A week and a half ago I woke to one of the most frightening things I've ever experienced - vertigo. No slight dizziness for me, thanks. My head was a rubber ball half filled with water. The room refused to be still. A fraction of an inch to left or right was enough to start the ship-in-a-hurricane sensation. I sobbed and sobbed, terrified, not thinking straight. Bizarre. And then I slept for nearly two days.
Then it was over.
It's been a strange week since then. Migraine, some dizziness (the doctor said I may be caught off guard by waves of dizziness for two or three weeks. I chose to disbelieve him and was soundly thrashed for my disbelief), gardening, cooking, work. Life. But sadness came with it all.
Not sadness at a specific event. Just general. Maybe it's a result of too much work and no play making Flea a very dull girl. Whatever it is, it took me by surprise. The trigger, though, was a rash of FaceCrack statuses posted by friends over the weekend.
Several people, between Friday and Sunday, said, "This is the perfect night to watch The Passion of the Christ." I don't know if you've seen it, and I highly recommend it if you haven't, but it's a fairly brutal rendition of the cruxifiction of Jesus. Well done, I think. Painful to watch. I've seen it exactly once. It's been my intention, for several years, to watch it again.
Seeing the status updates made me realize that I'll probably never watch Passion again, and why. The sorrow that swept through me was utter, devastating. I don't want to condemn or criticize my friends - please understand this is the way *I* feel. Everyone experiences things differently. So don't be hatin'.
The sorrow came when I felt that people were ENJOYING watching the film this weekend. Like seeing it again was a thrill (I hope it's not), or some kind of Christian duty to watch and experience it again. Why on earth would I want to watch someone I love dearly be executed? More than once? Why on EARTH would I want to view my best friend being brutally tortured and put to death? AGAIN?!? Even knowing the ultimate outcome. It just hurt. I know that the end, Good Friday, was not the end. I know that Jesus is alive. But I don't want to experience the torture and pain visually, repeatedly.
Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe it's just where I am right now. Maybe I took the updates the wrong way. I don't know. But please, let me rejoice in the Resurrection, not the agony. It makes me dizzy to think about anything else.
Until I write again ...