the b-side
2B — Thursday, November 21, 2013
HEALTH AND FITNESS COLUMN
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
STEP INTO THE SALON
Addiction doesn’t Is Natalie Portman worth the hype? discriminate
O
n Nov. 3, I celebrated three years sober — yes, in a row. Not a single drop of alcohol or iota of a mindaltering substance has entered my body for the past three years … and I remember when I couldn’t string together three hours. CARLY I’ve accomKEYES plished a lot in life thus far — academically, athletically, artistically and beyond — but my recovery is by far my greatest achievement, for without it, nothing else would be possible. Freedom isn’t possible; life itself isn’t possible. I’ve been writing this health column for nearly a year, and I’ve courageously touched upon my issues with depression, but I’ve yet to directly discuss my alcoholism. It’s an even tougher topic to tackle. It’s personal. It’s complicated. It’s misunderstood. But I feel that now is the right time to share my story (or as much as one can when cramming a seven-year struggle into 1,400 words), as it’s one of the most pressing physical and mental health issues facing young people today — especially the college-aged — and in case someone reads this and can relate to my experience or knows someone who probably would.
Triumphing over alcoholism. I used to think I was a crazy person or maybe just a morally bankrupt individual. Some of the things I did in my drunken states were harmless, entertaining and even fun, but this portion of my drinking career was short-lived. The “good times” quickly faded, and my life morphed into a fast and furious, embarrassing and devastating saga of poor and dangerous choices. It’s not harmless when you drive drunk. It’s not entertaining to the police officer when he asks you to step out of the car, and you’re wearing nothing but a bathing suit and a hooded sweatshirt. And it’s not fun when he slaps handcuffs on your wrists, and you spend the night in jail. I’d just turned 20 when I got arrested for my first DUI. I’d been drinking since 15 and, from the get-go, I knew I didn’t have the same relationship with alcohol as everyone else. I couldn’t ever get enough. Soon, I grew frustrated having to wait to get drunk until parties popped up on the weekend, so I began hiding bottles of lemon Bacardi in my closet and getting drunk by myself. That’s not normal — for a 15-year-old, for anyone. But, isn’t an alcoholic like a
middle-aged homeless guy with a brown bag sleeping under a park bench? At the time when things really began to go south, I was fresh out of a privileged, middleupper-class upbringing and a student-athlete at an Ivy League school, so I couldn’t be an alcoholic, right? “What’s a nice young girl like you — Bloomfield Hills, Wharton School of Business, Division I soccer player — doing in the back of my car?” the cop asked as he led me to the station, took my mug shot, handed me a pair of jail scrubs and locked me up in a cell with nothing but a toilet in the corner and a cold, hard cement floor for the next 12 hours, or so, until my .14 BAC dropped below the legal limit. Good question, sir. It wasn’t that — deep down — I didn’t believe I had a problem with alcohol. That was pretty obvious given my track record when I drank. But I thought I was going through a phase or something. I needed more proof. And I certainly got it. I transferred to the University that fall, and things got even worse. Even on probation and facing random breath testing, I couldn’t stop drinking. During my lectures in the first two weeks of the semester, I went from sitting sober in the front row, to hungover in the back row, to drunk on my couch at home, to disenrolled entirely. I withdrew for the term and checked into a rehab facility called Caron Treatment Center in Wernersville, Pa., where they offered a program specifically for young adult females ages 20-25. When I showed up, they asked me, “What’s your D.O.C?” and I didn’t understand. “What’s your drug of choice?” one of the other young women asked me. “Alcohol,” I said plainly. “ … And what?” she continued. Again, I didn’t understand. “Just alcohol,” I said. “You don’t do coke? Shoot up? Pop pills?” another young woman asked me. My revelation about drug use and youth continued when we had a support meeting that night, and I discovered that there was an adolescent program for 13 to 19-yearolds, and while I was there, they had to make an exception in order to treat a 12-year-old who was addicted to heroin. It began to seem like I was the only one who hadn’t abused a drug other than alcohol ... yet. But “just” alcohol was bad enough. “Just” alcohol had gotten me in a rehab center at age 20. And according to a recent survey of eighth, 10th and 12th grade students done by The Monitoring the Future Survey funded by the National Institute on Drug Abuse, alcohol causes nearly seven times more teen deaths than all other illicit drugs combined. With addiction, it’s not always as much about what you use but how you use it. Alcohol is a drug, too, and it can be just as lethal as
anything else. It certainly was for me. I wish I could tell you that when I got out of treatment I stayed sober, but obviously the math wouldn’t add up. It is a very confusing and terrifying thing to be told — when you’re not even legally old enough to consume alcohol yet — that you have to quit drinking forever, and I wasn’t ready. So, I went looking for more proof. It took two more years of enduring a daily existence so dark and so hopeless and so tragic that I could never adequately describe it in words, another withdrawal from the University, a four-month stay at a treatment center in Arizona and a second DUI to get me to do what I now know I should’ve been doing since age 15: taking responsibility for my disease. There are two things I really want to stress with this personal divulgence. The first: Alcoholism and drug addiction don’t discriminate. They don’t target a specific sex, race, gender, social status … or age. Today in recovery, I’m surrounded by dozens of other people — both young and not so young — with whom, on a daily basis, I battle this chronic and, if left untreated, fatal disease. And the second: There is hope. Since hitting bottom on Nov. 3, 2010 and accepting the help I’d been offered, I’ve lived a life, drug and alcohol-free, of which I used to only dream. I’m pursuing my passions as a professional singersongwriter and aspiring filmmaker (Let’s just say, I have plenty of material to work with). My education is no longer a burden; it’s a gift. And my right to drive is no longer just a right; it’s a privilege. Do I have hard days? Of course I do. I’m in my 20s, and I don’t drink. I live on a college campus where waking up on the floor in your own vomit happens all the time … just not to the same person over and over again. I’m surrounded by thousands of people every day who can have a beer … without having to worry about winding up in jail later that night. But I have a disease called alcoholism, and this is how I have to live if I want to live. If I can’t change my circumstances, I must change myself. And though getting and staying sober in your early/mid-twenties isn’t easy, this seemingly insurmountable challenge is what makes the positives in my life all that more enjoyable. Tom Hanks probably put it best in “A League of Their Own” when he said: “If it wasn’t hard, everyone would do it. The hard is what makes it great.” If you or someone you know is struggling with alcoholism or drug addiction, don’t lose hope. It may seem like an impossible demon to conquer, but there’s help to be gotten, and no matter how much it seems like it, no one is ever alone.
COLUMBIA
“Do you know I’m wearing a wig?”
Jamie: Don’t get me wrong, I’m the last person to say that Natalie Portman ruined the great writing of George Lucas. But you cannot deny that she severely underacted those movies; her “you’re breaking my heart” delivery haunts me to this day. And face it, her best movies are the ones where she’s weepy and sentimental. I don’t care if you’re being versatile by being in a bad movie — you’re still doing a bad movie. In everything she does, she’s usually crying her eyes out or longing for better things. But as a side note, “Garden State” is one of the best movies of the 2000s. Akshay: A lot of people knock her for being a two-note actor: Either she’s crying or she’s extremely upset about some perceived wrong. I have a oneword response to those critics: “Closer.” The film showcases her ability to be emotionless, temperamental and capricious convincingly. In that movie, she teeters the line between collapsing into the depths of her own sadness and being able to move on from a long-lost romance. She’s never quite sad, but she’s also never quite con-
vinced she’s happy. The film is a perfect representation of how not to overact, and also a tragic testament to undeserved Oscar snubs. For everyone that’s convinced Portman can only scream or weep in movies, I’m sure you haven’t had a chance to properly examine her last scene with Jude Law in “Closer.” Jamie: I admit I haven’t seen “Closer,” and I’m always willing to give a decent actor another shot, so I’ll check it out. But the fact is, up until right now, I have never heard someone say “Natalie Portman is the best part of the movie.” Her Oscar win for “Black Swan” is completely undeserved — she won for being committed to preparation, and if that’s all it takes to win an Oscar then Christian Bale should’ve won for “The Machinist” (by no means a good movie, but the dude lost 63 pounds). All I’m saying is, she’s frequently outperformed by the other actors and, with the exception of one film, is always crying like the girl in “Jurassic Park.” She’s got time to improve on her work, but until then, I’m skeptical she’ll rise in the ranks of great actors.
FLY WITH US. @MICHIGANDAILY TRAILER REVIEW
NBC
otherwise lighthearted series, this episode shows us a side of Leslie we’ve rarely seen before: apathy. She’s always been that person who gets a drunk tattoo because someone dared them to, not because she’s lost any and all notion of optimism. Is it a step forward for her character? Probably not, but it becomes a weird
Akshay: Whenever I get into extended debates with my friends about the Greatests Of All Time in Hollywood, the biggest point of contention usually ends up being Natalie Portman. No, she’ll probably never join the likes of Meryl Streep, but is it really fair to call her a mediocre actress? This underpaid college newspaper editor says no. We’re talking about the person who, at 12-years-old, in her first-ever acting gig, managed to steal the spotlight from the likes of Jean Reno. Every one of her performances, even if the scripts aren’t always brilliant, manages to reflect a deeply personal side of her identity that isn’t just weighed down by melodrama. She’s a creature of nuance, and each of her films is a glowing testament to that reality. Jamie: Except for “Star Wars,” of course. And “Your Highness.” And “Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium.” Is that enough or should I name a few more? I admit, she has her moments. But every actor has “moments,” those one or two movies where the actor can really shine. But that is not the norm for Natalie Portman. She is consistently less than stellar and rarely lives up to the hype that always surrounds her. Akshay: OK, I’ll give you “Your Highness.” But let’s be honest, who, in their right minds, would’ve said no when George Fucking Lucas called you up while you were in college and asked if you wanted to star in a “Star Wars” reboot. Even some of the silly stuff like “Your Highness” represents her versatility as an actor. They’re not great films, but they give her a chance to extend her range in the industry and are a representation of how she refuses to be pigeonholed into playing the weepy, sentimental type. I agree that she needs to be more careful about the scripts she picks, but I think those debacles are more a result of bad decision-making than acting.
Keyes is not alone. To share your story, e-mail cekmusic@umich.edu.
EPISODE REVIEW Leslie Knope is out. After months of slaving away on the Pawnee city council to try and make a difference A as a politician, Leslie, Parks and our Leslie, is out of a job. Rec Instead of “Recall Vote” the perfectly wound smile NBC and flawlessly organized policy memos, we see her walking around carrying a perpetually confused look. She’s unsure how to move forward, sleeping on park benches and talking to children about why it’s stupid to ever have hope. Don’t get me wrong — it’s hilarious, reminiscent of that one “Office” episode in which Michael Scott decides to “declare” bankruptcy. But in every scene of an
Daily Arts Writers Akshay Seth and Jamie Bircoll step into the salon for a friendly debate on Natalie Portman.
reminder that this show is nearly at its 100-episode mark. If there’s something to look forward to, the writers seem to be setting it up. I don’t think Leslie will never get her job back, but I’m convinced the people behind “Parks and Rec” are smart enough to make the journey hilarious. — AKSHAY SETH
I’ll get straight to the point — the trailer for “Dallas Buyer’s Club” is a poor advertisement for what looks like a good Bmovie. Good trailDallas ers draw you in and then Buyers Club throw you Focus away almost immediately, leaving you with a thirst that can only be quenched when you watch the movie. This particular trailer doesn’t satisfy either requirement: It simply shows too much too quickly and doesn’t leave a mark in memory. The little bits and pieces that we are shown are impressive. The performances and the story itself are particularly intriguing. It’s not everyday that we are told the story of a dying man providing “unapproved” drugs to people afflicted by HIV infection. What bothers me is how
much the trailer reveals, both of the central character and the story. Having seen the threeminute trailer, we pretty much know all there is to know about Ron Woodroof. We know how he lives life before he is told of his predicament, how he handles the situation, his unusual relationship with his business partner, his romantic feelings for his doctor, how he cares for every patient strapped down by the rules of the FDA and how
FOCUS
he refuses to cooperate with the authorities. Granted, we don’t know how his saga ends, but considering that trailers aren’t supposed to give away the ending, that really isn’t a saving grace. Trailers must be judged not on what they show, but how they show it. Sometimes, even the ordinary can be made to look spectacular. It’s a pity that in the case of this trailer, it’s the exact opposite. — MAYANK MATHUR