Who Are We, If Not The Stories We Tell Ourselves?

Who are we, if not

The Stories We Tell Ourselves?

“In the three months that I was in Treatment I was given written tasks to complete that were formulated around the first three of the 12 Steps: 

1. Admit you have a problem. 

2. Believe in the possibility of change. 

3. Ask for help and follow suggestion. 

In practice this meant providing accounts of when my drinking and drug use put me in danger or caused me to behave regrettably, examples of new habits I could adopt to support change, and ways in which I could get help that weren’t previously available. 

Nearly sixteen years later I use this formula when dealing with less critical problems of my own, and when mentoring other people. 

It is a near universal template. 

Having Chip as a witness and a guide as I undertook this as a novice was invaluable. 

When I gave accounts of the consequences of my drug use he was non-judgemental and offered stories of his own. 

He was able to validate ideas I had about how to change my habits and patterns and suggest better ones; and, importantly, he was a living demonstration of the success of the methods. 

He was also the first person that I was able to ask for help in a way that felt safe and free from hidden or unclear obligation. 

This is the first, and in a way most vivid, example of mentorship because the intention was so explicit, transition from drug user to abstinence; the method was established, the 12 Steps; and the environment supportive, a treatment centre for addiction. 

This meant that the relationship between Chip and myself had a good chance of succeeding as long as I was honest, open and willing, was able to accept my own flaws, believe I could change and give Chip the authority to steward that change. 

His obvious compassion, humour, honesty and experience meant that my decision to trust him felt safe. 

When I read my Life Story to him, a common therapeutic exercise which gives your mentor  : 

An idea of your version of events 

and 

Forces you to commit yourself to a narrative

He said, and I remember this most vividly and it still elicits a little, inward shudder, 

‘Poor, lonely, little boy.’

Hearing him say that made me feel understood but humbled, like I no longer needed to inflict an impression of myself on others, that I was no longer required to dupe or trick people into accepting a version of me that I constructed as I went along. 

It kind of winded me. 

It meant that I could accept that my shameful feeling about being that little boy could be addressed head on. 

It meant that I could tell Chip saw The Truth in What I Wrote. 

My mate Matt read the same life story the night before I handed it in, he’d come to visit me in treatment, rather sweetly. 

Let me tell you his assessment of the work was less sympathetic, he wrung it out for comedy in the most brutal fashion, cruelly pointing out my unconscious attempt to present my life as a kind of rock ‘n’ roll bio, scoffing at the bits where I ‘lived above pubs’, and coldly undermining the self-aggrandising tone. 

Humbling in another way.

For this reason I have peers, to remind me 

where the boundaries of My Tribe lie. 

But if I want to get beyond these boundaries I will need a mentor. 

Chip didn’t take The Piss. 
It would’ve been pretty unforgivable if he had (!). 

He saw past all the posturing and grandeur to the Deeper Truth; I was an uninitiated man and I needed to be recognised and encouraged.”

Excerpt From

Mentors

Russell Brand

“When Yogananda describes the first sighting of his guru, to a westerner the sincerity of his adulation is almost obscene. 

We only love so wholeheartedly and uncynically in adolescence, or when we revisit that hormonal tundra in juvenile adulthood. 

I was in my own storm of idiocy, my own adolescence beaten thinly almost into middle age, on a trip with a woman who I blindly adored, who I had ill-advisedly appointed as a custodian of my heart – one last throw of the dice. 

We Who Look for God in Romance are DOOMED. 

Your idol will fall and you will be too bereft to pick up the pieces.”

FAROUK: 

I've heard of This Beast.

Time Eaters, who live in Gravity Wells.

Black Holes.

The Laws of Time don't apply to them.

CLARK :

They live in black holes?

Uh, I mean -- 

FAROUK: 

Yes.

Think of Time as The Wood in The House, 
and they are like Termites living underground.

SYD :

David must have let them out.

KERRY :

How do we fight them? 

FAROUK: 

We can't. Not here.

They're too powerful.

We have to go to where they sleep 
and kill them there: The Nest.

CLARK :

Well, where do we go, and how do we get there? 

FAROUK :

To the Time Between Time.

There's a rift in the astral plane.

[FADING.]

An Imperfection.

It has been sealed -

KERRY:

Bombs, knives, guns? 

What do I need? 

FAROUK: 

Courage and Luck.

[CHUCKLING.]

Three years? 

[BOTH LAUGHING.]

So, if you're Me in The Future, 

then does that mean that this is My Future? 

[CHUCKLING.]

Yeah.

Maybe.

[CHUCKLES.]

Or maybe you'll make Different Choices 

now that you've seen me.

Like staying brunette? 

Very funny.

You know, last year, I was Syd in The Past.

But I never got to meet her.

Me.

If I did, I would have asked her 

The Same Question that you want to ask me.

What Question? 

Who Teaches You to Be Normal 

When You're One of a Kind? 

What am I? 

People get Too Close.

They Touch You and You Disappear.

And then They're Inside.

In Your Belly and In Your Head.

And when you get back, there's a smell.

Someone Else's smell is inside your nose.

And you check out.

You Tell People, 

"It's fine. I don't own my body." 

You Say, 

"My Power is like A Vacation.

I get to be a tourist in someone else's life." 

Who cares if every time I come back home, 

I feel dirty? 

I just want to be left alone.

I know.

People Die of Loneliness, too.

They drink too much.

Slit their own throats.

I went to The Shower.

Mom was asleep on the couch, and I went to The Shower.

You were curious.

I just wanted to feel something.

And he turned me around.

Why did he turn me around? 

Power.

I thought Sex was about Love.

It can be.

That was it.

The First Time.

My only time.

People talk about Sex, 

and all I think about is having my face pushed into wet glass.

How is that Romantic? 

Does it Get Better? 

You Fall in Love.

[CHUCKLES SOFTLY.]

And that's worth it.

To Feel That Feeling.

Do we get married? 

It's complicated.

I'm not a kid.

[SIGHS.]

Uh - He has Powers.

But he's unstable.

And for a while, it's Magic.

[QUIETLY.]

Magic.

And then - 

What happened?

"You had a bad dream."

He turned me around.

So we find A Desert Island and Live Alone.

I think about that, too.

Giving up.

[CHUCKLES.]

It's not giving up.

It's What You Wrote.

I know.

I'm afraid.

If I hug you, do we switch places? 

[GASPING.]

[SCREAMS.]

- [ROARS.]

- [SCREAMS.]

Fishy? Fishy? 

Where'd you swim off to? Babe! 

[CLOCK TICKING.]

[DISTORTED GIGGLING.]

[SALMON SCREAMING.]

Hey.

Hey.

Hey.

It hurts! Is it supposed to hurt so much? 

Um, push, right? Remember?

[WHIMPERS.]

[PANTING.]

You got to push.

This is it.

Push.

[LENNY EXHALING.]

[SALMON WHIMPERING.]

[SCREAMING.]

[BABY CRYING.]

[LENNY GASPS.]

My Queen.

We Did It.

[BABY CRYING.]

Mommy, I made that for you.

Bullshit!

Oh.

What is? 

That this is all we get.

Mom?

[LENNY GASPS.]

Do you want to hold her?

[BABY COOS.]

[LENNY LAUGHS.]

No.

No.

No!

Mom.

She's Tough.

Stubborn.

Listens to me and then does the opposite.

I guess it runs in The Family.

[BOTH LAUGH.]

Mom.

You came.

Of course I did.

Thank You.

For what? 

Always Being There for Me.

[CRYING.]

[CLOCK TICKING.]

[WHIMPERS.]

[SCREAMING.]

I seen the demons But they didn't make a sound 

They tried to reach me 

But I lay upon the ground I reached for feelings 

But they didn't make a sound 

They tried to reach me 

But I lay upon the ground 

[GROWLING.]

So, miles and miles of squares 

Where's the feeling there? 

[DISTORTED GIGGLING.]

Still nobody cares 

For miles and miles of squares 

Daydream I fell asleep amid the flowers 

Daydream I fell asleep amid the flowers 

[FAROUK WHISTLES.]

I seen the demons 

But they didn't make a sound 

They tried to reach me 

But I lay upon the ground 

I seen the people 

But they didn't make a sound 

They tried to reach me 

[SCREAMING, DISTORTED CHATTER.]

Something's wrong with Time?

[SIGHS.]

[DISTORTED GIGGLING.]

What Are You? 

It Doesn't Matter.

Ah.

You know what? 

Eat all the time you want.

I'll get it back.

'Cause You're Not Real.

Nothing That Hurts Me is Real.

No-one Who Hates me is Real.

[GIGGLING.]

For miles and miles of squares 

Acts of God.

Daydream I fell asleep amid the flowers 

I am God.

Daydream I fell asleep amid the flowers.

Oh, now you're listening.

Well, Listen to This.

You want to eat something? Eat shit.

Now go tell your friends it's not your time.

It's mine.

Go.

Or I kill every one of you.

What am I?

 [GROWLING.]

[TICKING.]

[WHOOSHING.]

[INSECTS TRILLING.]

[LENNY CRYING.]

How Bad?

[GROANS.]

Let me Help You.

[SNIFFLES.]

No.

I need to feel it.

[CRYING.]

ALL: 

Daddy! 

Stop.

Stop.

Stop! 

[SIGHS.]

Where's Switch?

Switch?

She's gone, Daddy.

What do you mean, she's gone? 

He took her.

The Scientist.

Cary took her? 

No, no, no! 

[LOUD RUMBLING.]

[INHALES.]

[EXHALES.]

War.