I just read the play by play synopsis of I Spit on Your Grave and while I’m totally for a woman getting her revenge on after being brutally gang-raped, I just cannot bring myself to watch it. Maybe it’s because I still feel like taking a shower every time I remember Last House on the Left (the original) or maybe it could be because I’m a big wuss. Mark is always commenting on my ability to get lost in a film and totally feel for characters like they are real people, and although this makes for a better film experience (I guess), I can’t help but wish I wasn’t so ridiculously empathetic. I watched Let Me In tonight and found myself crying a couple of times. Seriously. And this happens to me all the time, with movies, TV shows, you name it. Books! Oh my God, to this day I still can’t read Elie Wiesel’s Night again without turning into a sobbing, horrible mess.
I don’t know. Growing up I was very overemotional, up to my mid-teens, even and then when I turned 18 something clicked and all I focused on doing was completely shutting out and suppressing my emotions. It worked for a long time, I was blissfully numb. But now I feel like I’m right back where I started, almost. Not quite a crybaby or overemotional but just a little too in touch with my (and other people’s) emotions. I guess it has to do a lot with all the crazy changes I’ve gone through in the last year which have made me do a lot of self-observation and growing up. So I suppose I should embrace this kinder, gentler, older version of Kat, huh? The version that still loves zombies and horror movies but will get all gooey and gushy and teary eyed at a video about puppies (I am so not exaggerating).
Has that ever happened to you? Just getting completely engrossed in a film that you become a complete crying mess during it?