"Unfortunately, no one can be told what the Matrix is.
You have to see it for yourself."
~Morpheus
I got a mere one paragraph (the final paragraph, oddly enough) into my promised post on Silda Spitzer and the nature of the universe (I know, that's my problem, I think small) when I realized that I might want to use this concept of "The Matrix" yet again. And I found I've never adequately explained it (in spite of the fact that my friend Tigermom asked me to nearly a year ago). So, let me take a step back, pause and explain The Matrix. After all, even if I don't end up using it in this particular upcoming post, I know I'll refer to it again (and again and again) eventually.Those of you who've been hanging around reading me for any substantial length of time already know that I find the movie The Matrix to be a brilliant metaphor for addiction (and codependency). And I know that many of you who have both seen the movie and lived with addiction (either as an addict or a family member) have told me you've experienced that same resonance. But many of you haven't seen the movie (in spite of the fact that I assigned it to you as homework nearly a year ago) and/or haven't lived with addiction. If so, this post's for you.
First, a quick plot summary: Neo (played by the inimitable Keanu Reeves) is a humdrum cog in the corporate wheel by day and computer hacker by night. In his computer prowlings, he hears of something called "The Matrix." After several tense and eerie scenes (with special effects to lend a nightmarish quality) Neo meets Morpheus, who knows there is something wrong with Neo's world and offers to share his knowledge of The Matrix. However, Morpheus says he cannot tell Neo what The Matrix is, he must show him. (The first time I saw the movie, I thought, "For goodness sakes, just tell him!" But I was in The Matrix then myself.)
Morpheus offers Neo a choice between two pills: one red and one blue. "You take the blue pill, the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill, you stay in Wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes." Neo takes the red pill, of course, and when he does, the world changes: a mirror melts and swallows him, he chokes for breath, and finds himself in an egg filled with goo, attached to it with wires connected to him through jacks in his skin. The wires are ripped from him, and he plunges down a chute into dark water, where he is scooped up and rescued by Morpheus and his crew in the real world.
Neo finds that everything he's lived, everything he's experienced, was a virtual reality dream fed to him by a computer. He (and the billions of other people in The Matrix) never actually walked or talked or breathed or touched another living being. He lived his life in a perpetual dream, in the womb of a machine, and has only now been born to the real world: a world that is cold, sunless and decimated by war (you know, the typical post-apocalyptic world of the future).
The movie goes on with guns and prophecies and romance and groundbreaking special effects, and while there are other parts of the movie that resonate, for the most part, that disconnect between realities, that violent birth, that birth as an adult, that birth of consciousness, that is what I'm talking about when I talk about The Matrix.
Addiction and codependency center, each in their own way, on fantasy. Addicts and codependents aren't attempting to escape from reality, they've never in their lives experienced reality. And that sudden, brutal awakening in The Matrix, more than anything I've ever seen or read, captures what it felt like to have that fantasy ripped away and to wake to reality. It captures what it felt like to me to find out that my husband was a sex addict and what he tells me it felt like to realize he himself was an addict. And I never took a breath, never walked a step, never truly saw and touched my husband until I left The Matrix.
A clip, for your edification. (Unfortunately, I couldn't find one that ended where I wanted: after Neo is in the ship, when Morpheus looks at him and says, "Welcome to the real world." You'll just have to imagine that yourself.) It made my chest tight just to watch this again...
I've never really thought of it that way before, though I do enjoy that movie. Do you like the second two movies in the trilogy, do they resonate with you the way the first does?
ReplyDeleteAn interesting post.
ReplyDeleteI got the "eebie jeebies" watching that. I can clearly see your perception of it and how it connects with your experience. pretty deep.
ReplyDeleteThanks MPJ,
ReplyDeleteI suspected the general outlines of the analogy and appreciate the explanation. I TIVO'd the Matrix this weekend in your honor to rewatch it. Always loved it, but have always loved time warp kinds of plot lines anyway.
I once briefly experienced this when I had a scare that one of my kids was very seriously ill and had flashes of, "My whole world has now changed forever. What the F#$% just happened?" And a good friend is having that experience now with a seriously ill spouse. She lives in a totally alternate universe now ripped away from her old reality. But still dealing with the old reality since many of the people around her do not know of her new one.
Ahh, I get it now. I'd always taken your reference too literally, thinking that Keanu wasn't an addict in the movie. I only saw the movie once since I'm not really into that kind of movie. Started to say that I prefer reality, but that would be too ironic.
ReplyDeleteHave I told you lately that I love you? I do... I really really do.
ReplyDeleteI had only ever applied that movie to the whole dystopia level of thought... You have opened my eyes to the real world (in movies). I completely agree.
I read something you wrote a while ago leading up to this - but now I can say I get it - I see your point and I think that this is the closest that I have come to understanding addiction and my ow co dependance.
ReplyDeleteThat is the closest thing I've ever seend to what disclosure/recovery feels like. May I repost this on my blog?
ReplyDeleteAmazing.
I've never seen "The Matrix". Now I understand why the ex loved it so much. Am off to put it on my Netflix queue.
Kellee, absolutely! Go for it!
ReplyDeleteI've never thought about addiction this way, but it is so true.
ReplyDeleteI'd love to hear more of your story about addiction and codependency. Do you have specific blog posts you could point me towards that relates of your story?
I work for a minsitry called Covenant Eyes. We help people to avoid the temptation of Internet pornography through accountability software. Have you heard of Covenant Eyes?
Luke, on my right sidebar I have a section called "Greatest Hits," which includes some of my (and my readers') favorite posts on addiction and codependency, as well as a seven post series on how I came to discover my husband's addiction. That would be an excellent place to start for more of my story.
ReplyDeleteI have not heard of Covenant Eyes, but I will take a look at your website. Thanks for visiting.
http://onwardoverland.com/matrix/philosophy.html
ReplyDeleteYou might enjoy that link. My favorite is actually the Matrix:Reloaded. Genius.
[...] else is lost in The Matrix.” I nodded knowingly, automatically thinking of MPJ’s now-famous Matrix metaphor for addiction. He explained further, “It’s like the dating world is basically fantasyland—virtual reality. [...]
ReplyDeleteI had this same thought when I found out. That I'd just woken up from The Matrix. And actually, the humans-as-batteries for the robots idea resonated with me as well -- because my ex could be incredibly draining. After we broke up after two years, a good friend told me that she had watched me just get more and more tired and shut down, but she never said anything because I seemed happy and maybe the costs were outweighed by the benefits. And this was before I even found out about my ex's sex addiction. The other women said that they found him draining too...it was like he was trying to fill that gaping need, the god-shaped hole, with a whole bunch of women...
ReplyDeleteWow, thanks for helping me connect the dots. The only thing for me is that I didn't get to choose to go to reality; but I don't think I'd go back to blissful ignorance. And now what to do in the ugly reality....
ReplyDeleteI'm late to this post by a few years but it really gave me another clear metaphor of the slow realization that my husband has a narcissistic personality disorder. Rather than being addicted to sex, he was mostly addicted to whatever antics he needed to do to get attention and admiration from others. Our life was a house of cards filled with props. It took me several years to see through the fantasies and that his behavior was very disordered. I had to sink with him or jump ship-I jumped. Thank you for this.
ReplyDelete