cothurnus: For most of the time. (Default)
I was going to save this post until later in the week, but, given that I had a little bit of a breakdown last night, I thought it fitting that I post this now. You’ll see why:

I know I’ve spent a good while talking about how I feel when it comes to a certain couple of arrancar, but I have only touched upon my feelings for the series’ protagonist. This isn’t because I don’t like him, or, even necessarily because I prefer Ulquiorra and Grimmjow as characters. It’s just that my thoughts about Ichigo were always kind of nebulous up to this point. I mean, he is a nebulous character – and, that’s good. It’s in the nature of a protagonist whom you have forever to develop in numerous ways that their essence will be hard to pin down to a specific speech or specific fight. However, what’s changed is that certain events before and during the short-lived fullbringer storyline and now in the more recent episodes which have helped me to crystallise my thoughts.

So, to sum up my attitude towards Ichigo, frankly I will say that, most of the time I find him to be a guilt-free emotional focus for the story, through which I can live vicariously. But, sometimes, I find him to be a real inspiration. Because, while he spends most of the story so far super-powered and steadfast, he is not always so, and the way that Ichigo is presented in these instances, to me, really shows how talented Tite Kubo is.

The examples which come to mind are Ichigo’s funk after his inner hollow prevents him from being able to fight Ulquiorra and Yammy, and most potently, what happens after Ginjou steals his newfound fullbring powers. I suppose I also might like to talk about the nuances of his feelings after losing his shinigami powers to the Final Getsuga Tenshou in relation to these things, but, in the interests of keeping this post short and pertinent, I think I’ll give that stuff its own post sometime.

I’ve already talked quite a bit in previous posts about the first of these, and I don’t want to repeat myself. But, I will say that what Ichigo’s depression and fear taught me was that it is natural for even the bravest of us to feel these emotions when we fail or face something unknown. I know I’ve already said as much in a previous post, but I think I should acknowledge it specifically with regards to my current situation.

As I have said, last night, I lost my composure. My arm was in severe pain, I was terribly cold, tired to the point of delirium and all I could see ahead of me were the uncertain weeks when I would still be confined to this hospital room. In that moment, I identified strongly with the Ichigo that would scream his heart out on a rain-spattered rooftop and even plead to have his powers returned. Indeed, therein lies some of the skill of Tite Kubo: Ichigo's depressions are always so relatable.



But, even as I cried, I thought about the Bleach page which is my current desktop wallpaper (below), and I thought that Ichigo Kurosaki also showed me that even the bravest of us sometimes need those close to us. If even Ichigo needs to ask for help, I felt, I shouldn’t be ashamed to do so.



And all of those arrayed shinigami who lent their power to him reminded me of all the friends who are helping me everyday to overcome this. Of course, it also helped with the comparison that Rukia’s words could have been directed at me personally, as I have “come through much worse despair”.

However, even as I felt overwhelming gratitude for what my friends did for me, the little voice of doubt in my head, which creeps up on me in these moments in a manner not wholly unlike the way Ichigo’s inner hollow taunts him, started. It said, “You’re not like Ichigo. Because, every time he pulls himself together, it’s for the good of others. You are only trying to save yourself.” And you know what I did with that voice before it could continue? I told it to fuck off. Out loud. And it stopped. It took me some time to realise this, but the reason I was able to do this difficult thing was also partly down to Ichigo. I can think of two instances where he dismisses arguments against his determined course. Firstly, when he tells Ulquiorra that the difference in their power doesn’t matter, and later, when Ginjou tries to turn him against the shinigami establishment. Similarly, I realised that it doesn’t matter that I’m accepting all this help and fighting as hard as I can to get better with little sign of a righteous end. Do you know why? It’s because I realised that I would do the same for any one of my friends – and it wouldn’t have anything to do with duty or hope of gain. I would do it because it is what I believe and because I love them.

This, once and for all, proved to myself that I have the potential to be like Ichigo, that I can mirror his resolve. I just hope that I’m not the only one who can derive this comfort from Bleach, because I know I’m not the only one who needs it.

P.S. I'm going to have to leave this blog for a little while, as, yup, I now can't use my right hand to type. (I could only upload this because I'd written a good portion before last night. However, some urgency has been taken out of the equation, as I definitely won't be having surgery until at least the middle of next week.
cothurnus: "I set my sail ..." (Bastion)
I know that this isn’t quite what I promised when I wrote my last post, but upon further thought, I realised that my idea for the last post in my series might be kind of difficult for me to achieve from a hospital bed, as I’ll be needing some scholarly resources from home which I can’t easily get. I’m trying to be optimistic that I’ll manage to do ALL THE BLOGS! But anyway, these thoughts here just struck me as more urgent. I actually wrote them last night, around midnight, as soon as they hit me. I thought it better that way. I tried to fight the urge, but it would not be silenced. So, here you go:

(By the way, I really recommend you listen to the music mentioned at the bottom of this post to get the full effect of the feeling I was having.)

A few times now, as you may recall, I have talked about the Kill Bill films, mainly focusing on one particular scene in Volume 1, namely the bit where she visits Hattori Hanzo and gazes upon his collection of swords. But, tonight, in a thrilling turn of events, I would like to talk instead about an episode from Volume 2, this one being the part where the Bride is buried alive.

What happened was that I was re-watching this film, while waiting for my latest antibiotic dose to finish, (my arm had to be completely immobile for the two hours it takes) and it came to the part with the ‘Texas funeral’, and a thought suddenly hit me: being in hospital is a lot like this.

I know that sounds kind of melodramatic, but it bears comparison, really. Think of this: I, like Beatrix Kiddo, am trapped in a situation over which I have no control. Seriously, for the short-term future, I have a tube coming out of my head which means I cannot move from my bed most of the time. Then, I reacted in the same way that she did, at first. That is to say, I cried and freaked out. But, afterwards, I realised that I have the determination, tools and skills to fight my way out of here. I determinedly squirmed the knife out of my boot, and I set to cutting at the figurative rope on my hands, and I have started punching my way to freedom.

All of these comparisons are merely psychological, but useful nonetheless. Whenever I manage to adjust my table with only one hand or pour myself some juice likewise, that is me cutting the rope, doing the little tasks which make the big one of preparing for my next, and hopefully final, surgery possible. Every day I spend hooked to this tube, every sample that they take, that’s one punch closer to freedom.

To everyone who is helping me through this and those don't realise how they have helped in the past, I say, “I’m coming.”

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cothurnus: For most of the time. (Default)
Ashleigh

November 2012

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