Confronting My Obscurus as a Victim of Emotional Abuse
As an entertainment journalist, I’m afforded some pretty cool work perks — from movie screenings and television screeners to interviews with talented actors, directors, and writers. As an entertainment journalist, I’m also forced to confront certain harsh realities of my life and myself through the media that I cover.
It’s strange, sometimes, how my personal and professional life will line up. This summer, I reviewed MTV’s Scream and Freeform’s Dead of Summer; both series had me crying nearly every week as I watched young men and women grieve for their murdered friends — as I was in the process of grieving for a friend I lost to cancer this year.
So, I suppose I shouldn’t necessarily be surprised that mere days after I made the decision to cut off communication with an emotionally abusive parental figure, I saw Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them at an early media screening (a screening that was held on my abuser’s birthday, no less). To briefly recap why these things are related: It was revealed per Deadline shortly before screenings of Fantastic Beasts began that Johnny Depp would appear in the already-announced sequel — with the timing of such an annoucement indicating he would appear in the first movie as well. But, earlier in the year as reported by ET Online, Amber Heard filed for divorce from Depp, and was granted a restraining order against him on allegations of domestic abuse shortly after. Although Heard later withdrew her restraining order request and reached a divorce settlement, court documents made her allegations public — and I, for one, believe her.
Knowing all this and bracing for the moment that Depp appeared on screen in the third act of Fantastic Beasts didn’t quite prepare me for the visceral reaction I had. In that scene, Depp is revealed as the dark wizard Grindelwald, who had been disguised throughout the movie as a character who, at best, emotional manipulates (if not outright emotionally abuses) the teenaged Credence Barebone. When the reveal began, my stomach clenched, and I could feel the heat of anger wash over me.
Thankfully, I wasn’t tasked by my editors to review Fantastic Beasts (although, technically I did — in podcast form) because that reveal and my visceral reaction to it completely took me out of the movie. All I could think about was how fucking dare Warner Bros. cast this actor in this specific role and not issue an apology to all the abuse victims who have found solace in Harry Potter. However, even as I had those thoughts, I didn’t include myself as a victim of abuse.
After the screening, I met up with a friend of mine so we could take an Uber together back to her apartment in Brooklyn. I was staying the night, then heading into Manhattan the following day for interviews with the cast and creative team of Fantastic Beasts. I told my friend about my decision to cut off communication with the person who had been emotionally abusive toward me. When we got home, I even showed her the Facebook message that had prompted me to block this person’s Facebook, Twitter, email, and phone number.
I know exactly what was underlying these revelations and what I wanted from them: I needed my friend to affirm the message was not normal, that I wasn’t being overdramatic by how much it hurt me, and that the message was so severe it warranted such an extreme response as cutting off all forms of communication. It wasn’t the first time I took the words of my abuser to friends for affirmation, simply the most recent.
To be perfectly honest, though, I’m still coming to grips with the idea that I’ve been emotionally abused. Even in telling my best friends and closest family members about my decision to sever communication in November, I had a screenshot of that particular Facebook message at the ready as proof. I still have that screenshot saved on my laptop in case I need the receipts of the emotional abuse I’ve suffered — both for someone else (should they question me) and, more importantly, for myself.
Frankly, I think I put distance between my own abuse and Fantastic Beasts’ connection to an alleged domestic abuser out of personal necessity. I had to sit in a hotel room with a table full of journalists the day after my abuser’s birthday and listen to director David Yates and producer David Heyman praise Depp’s work. I had to listen as Yates uttered the comment that has since been derided on Twitter — “You’re a star one week, people are saying odd things the next, but no one takes away you’re pure talent.” — and all I could do was grit my teeth and get through it. It was easier if I didn’t admit how much those words hurt me personally.
I got through that day the way I’ve gotten through most emotionally difficult points in my life, by throwing myself into work. I made it through the rest of my interviews, I transcribed parts of them on the subway ride home, and I wrote two articles in quick succession as soon as I walked in the door. Was it the most healthy reaction to the situation I was in? Probably not. In fact, putting that emotional distance between myself and Fantastic Beasts probably set me back in terms of accepting my own abuse.
I will say, though, I don’t regret covering the press junket for Fantastic Beasts, especially since it gave me the chance to participate in a roundtable interview with Ezra Miller. His character, Credence, experiences both physical abuse at the hands of his adoptive mother and emotional abuse from Graves/Grindelwald. Miller spoke earnestly in our interview session about working with experts to learn how victims of trauma carry that weight in their body. He spoke to his character’s angry turmoil, as well as how portraying those emotions and carrying the weight of Credence’s trauma in his body impacted his own mental state.
At one point, while he was talking about how Credence carries his abuse, I had to look down at my notes. Miller is particularly good at making eye contact and I could feel the pinpricks of tears in my eyes; I was not going to cry in an interview, and I certainly wasn’t going to let the person I was interviewing know that his words hit such a chord with me that I was near tears. However, that interview forced me to confront the similarities between myself and Credence. I recognized the anger he feels, I recognized the anger and self-hatred as a result of abuse that led to the formation of Credence’s Obscurus. Because of my own abuse, I spent a lot of my teenage years walking around feeling like my anger could swallow me whole if I let it — but I didn’t, and I won’t.
The timing of the media screening and interviews for Fantastic Beasts forced me to confront my own identity as a victim of abuse. In fact, the only times I’ve admitted publicly to being a victim of abuse have been in connection to my emotional response to Fantastic Beasts. It has helped me realize I have so much work to do regarding coming to terms with my abuse, and it motivated me to get started on that work. (However, that doesn’t absolve Warner Bros., Yates, or J.K. Rowling herself for normalizing the actions of an alleged domestic abuser.)
So, I’m taking steps forward, first by writing this essay. Next, my 2017 resolution is to go to therapy so I can attempt to come to terms with my identity as a victim of emotional abuse and learn how to talk more openly about my experiences. I know how to prevent my Obscurus from consuming me, but now I need to learn how to heal and move forward.
