Deadwood, The Devil and Daniel Johnston

Adrian and I indulged in a 2-day orgy of Deadwood, Season Two watching. We literally watched every episode of the new Season two box set, one after the other. What a great show....great writing, great characters, terrific sets and locations, amazing acting....

We also had a cookout for ourselves and spent the day hanging out at home mostly. We did go out to look at another couple of houses....

This week, we also went to see The Devil and Daniel Johnston, which evoked a strong reaction in me. Daniel is an Austin singer-songwriter who has struggled with delusional manic-depression for a long time and now lives with his parents after having been institutionalized several times. The movie documents his life and includes interviews with his parents, siblings and friends. The interviews with his now elderly parents affected me to the point of tears, making me remember when I was hospitalized for depression. My mother and I were in my psychiatrist's office at the hospital in Dallas, discussing my spending time in the psychiatric ward. My mother was crying, asking the doctor if it was her fault, did she do something wrong.....I just sat there silent and trembling, wringing my hands, scared out of my mind. I had never been in the hospital for anything, let alone for being crazy, and my mother thought it was her fault.....
Daniel's parents have to take care of him now, and it's very sad listening to them describe all the things he's done over the years due to his illness, once even trying to take control of the small plane he and his father were flying back home in, causing them to crash into the trees. Luckily, his father was an experienced pilot and they weren't hurt. Listening to their pain that their son is so ill, made me think back to how my illness (which was absolutely in no league with Daniel's) affected my mother and it made me so profoundly sad. I always assured her after that that my illness was in no way her fault, but I think until she died that she harbored some guilt about it.
If there's any person to blame for my life-long depression, it would be my father, and he'll always be in denial that he ever did anything to affect my life other than cause my mother to become pregnant in the first place.