Ringing In

I’m not sure what’s happened, tonight.

Tonight, my best friend and I were watching Breaking Bad. We’re in season 5 now, which is arguably more intense than other seasons, though I’ll admit that we’re only 4 episodes in. In other seasons, I have HATED Walter White for most of the things that he has done, I’ve wanted to kill him since very early on in the show. But never have I felt like I do now.

In the new season, Skyler is reacting to her husband’s continued meth-sale and the fact that he’s responsible for the recent murder of three people. Understandably, her reaction is not a calm one, and she’s clearly shaken. She’s distant, she doesn’t speak much, she looks constantly uncomfortable with Walter whenever they’re in the same room, she never faces the ceiling or the other side of the bed when she goes to sleep. She doesn’t look at Walter often.

Now, Skyler White is an out-spoken character. Whenever she doesn’t like something, she makes it known. Whenever Walter does something he shouldn’t (i.e.: Every day, essentially), she lets him know it’s a terrible idea. And even when she doesn’t have a super strong opinion on something, she usually talks. Makes light conversation, talks about her day, whatever. She’s a person with a very strong personality. She makes conversation without much difficulty and she knows, generally, what to say and when. She’s good at it.

That’s why it’s important to note when she stops speaking. Now, Skyler’s not like her sister Marie. Marie likes to control, likes to make assumptions and accusations and she complains about things she’s not directly in control of. Skyler, on the other hand, talks about things that affect her, and that affect her family. She speaks up not because she needs or wants to be in control of something, but because she has something to say.

If Skyler’s not talking, there’s a problem.

The first time she showed this behavior with Walter was in Season 1 or 2, when she first realized Walter was lying to her. The second cell phone. The minute that happened, she took to just staring at Walter. She let her displeasure be known by shutting him out and not communicating with him. That’s something that’s key for her, I think. Communication is vital in any relationship ever, and I think Skyler operates in a very relational, very communication-oriented way. She’s… maybe not an extrovert, but someone for whom discussion and conversation is important. If she shuts you out, you have fucked up.

In Season 5, she does this. But it’s not the same as before. It’s not an ‘I’m upset with you because you’re lying to me’ silence. This is a much darker, and much less healthy kind of silence that stems from Walter’s admission to murder. She’s terrified.

Even after Walter’s “I am the danger” speech, Skyler didn’t shut down like she does in Season 5. While she was a little quieter, she was still able and willing to get shit done and say what she needed to. In Season 5, there’s none of that. She hardly says a word to anyone other than to blow up at her sister, which I can’t say I fault her for. I don’t know if that was part of her plan to make her sister and brother in law think that the kids needed to be away from her and Walter, or if it was just a time bomb that went off because of too much emotional distress, but Skyler needed that outlet, and she needed to have that cry she had.

At one point, Skyler does what is essentially an attempt to kill herself. She walks into a freezing cold pool, and keeps herself down there for long enough that Walter jumps in after her. Later that night, after the kids go with their aunt and uncle, Walter talked to Skyler, and basically torments her. Skyler wanted the kids out of their house and away from their murderous father who produces meth, but because she considered herself connected to the illegal activity, she made plans that she thought would get the kids to safety, but not herself.

At this point I continued to scream what I’ve said since Season 1, that she should divorce him and get full custody of the kids. Of course, because she considers herself guilty, she won’t do that. And more than that, even, is the fact that she is in an abusive relationship. She’s scared of Walter, and she told him that the kids shouldn’t be near him, and that she was going to be bearing through it until the point that Walter dies. Because what else can she do? Her husband is a murderer, and told her to her face that he is unafraid to be the one to pull the trigger. He got loud and angry when she suggested getting the kids away from him, and he undermined any plan that she could think of that wouldn’t hurt the kids, so what could she do? She’s in a situation where if she divorces him and takes the kids, she does not know that he won’t kill her. Hell, she doesn’t know that he won’t kill her for something like making him mad. Walter White is a two-faced abuser, and Skyler is only just starting to see the side of him that is the one who cooks meth and murders people. She does not know how to handle him, or who he is at this point, and she’s terrified.

I love Skyler White. She’s brilliant and resourceful and kind and brave and unafraid to fight for what she believes. I have spent the better part of 4 seasons empathizing with her, and understanding where she is coming from completely, and that is still the case. When Nico and I watched episode 4 of season 5, something happened to me. All that empathy that I have for Skyler, and the ANGER that I have against Walter White for doing the things he’s done…. I don’t know, it just kind of culminated. I had… an episode is not the right word for it. A reaction, I suppose.

I felt hollow. I couldn’t feel things properly, was unsure what things were or how or why and what I was to do. I was just sitting on the couch and watching something, but it felt like I wasn’t there, or that I wasn’t me. Disassociation, maybe? I’ve seen that word tossed around, and maybe it’s not being used right by me here, but perhaps that’s what it was.

We paused the show. I wasn’t sure what to do, how long I needed, what was going to happen, but over the span of an hour, I did… nothing. I tinkered around on my laptop for a little while, but I didn’t care about what I was doing. I didn’t feel it. I didn’t actually take in anything I was seeing. I didn’t understand the feeling of my robe against my skin, or what my breathing was. I realized, at one point, that it had been a long time since I’d eaten, and that eating and having something to drink might make me feel better. I needed to take care of myself. So I made some food, got some water. Eating and drinking felt the same as doing anything else. I had taken off my robe for this, to feel air against my skin, and see if that helped. It only did by a small amount.

When I put my bowl away, I put my robe back on and walked outside. It had rained, as I’d gathered from my roommate who had gone outside earlier, and it’s cold here now. I wanted cold, and I like rain. I walked outside, didn’t go farther than a few feet from the front door because I would have gotten my socks wet and I didn’t want that.

It was cold, but I didn’t feel it much. It was kind of nice, but also a bit scary. I should have felt it more. I could see my breath, but it didn’t feel cold enough for that to have happened. It wasn’t seeping in, I didn’t actually feel much at all. It was very cloudy out, but I could see the moon a little from behind them. I kept hoping that it would come out a little more, cause I wanted to see it. I love the moon, always have, and I figured that seeing it would make me feel better.

After a moment, it came out. It was bright, and not quite full, because the full moon doesn’t happen until Sunday, but it was lovely. I don’t know, something about it got to me, and I started to cry.

Like I said, I wasn’t far from my front door, and Nico was on the couch near the window, so I could hear everything they were doing down to sighs, so I stayed as quiet as I could, but I cried. I let out as much as I could get out. Whenever I cry, I never feel like it’s enough, you know? Like I have more crying to do, I need to get out some feelings, but the tears don’t flow quite as long as I predict.

Then again, I think I’m bad at time-keeping when I’m disassociating.

The tears flowed while I was out there, again, not as long as I thought, but in definite streams, and I was surprised about that, but kind of pleased? I thought that was right. I stood out there for a while, and then while I watched the moon get covered and uncovered by clouds, I wiped off my face (I’d had a peanut butter, banana, and bacon sandwich, so my hands smelled like PB, which was off-putting). Right as I was thinking about going in, I heard Nico fiddle with the blinds, and knew they were looking for me. So, after a second, I turned around, but I lingered before I opened the door.

Nico was on the other side when I did open it, we’d gone to it at the same time. I grabbed my things and came upstairs, and now I’m here. Talking is difficult during this time. I don’t want to say nearly anything at all, but I make words come out when I’m spoken to, even though it feels wrong. I don’t know what I need right now, so I’ve typed this. I may shower, since I haven’t today, but that’s unlikely, honestly. It’s 1:30am. I might just sleep. I don’t know.

All I do know is that I’m going to spend tomorrow doing things that aren’t marathoning Breaking Bad. I’m gonna clean. Do laundry, dishes, clean my shower. I’ll take my notice of publication to the local paper for my name change. I’ll put up my new shower curtain, make some good food. I don’t know when I’ll pick up BrBa with Nico again. Doesn’t matter much.

Oh, well.

Happy New Year.