I watched this movie a year or two back and remember seeing myself as the Adam Sandler character in all his mannerisms.
I couldn't see this when it was released, as it was rated R so I couldn't get into the movies to see it at the time. I was a big Sandler fan then, and I recall reading the reviews. I distinctly remember reading one review talking about the "gay boy" reference, because I discussed it with my father. He laughed a bit, and then later on in the conversation referred to me as "gay boy." And I realized later that he was saying it in jest, but at that time, it shook me just as you saw it did Sandler in that scene. And it's still something that reverberates with me today when ever I see or hear about the movie.
Part of my anxiety that still exists is taking things people say to me too personally, and I actually had it worked out in college for a while, but after college, that part came back, especially since I had moved back with my parents.
I'm not quite sure why, but for all the good lessons my father tried (and still does) to teach me over the years, I'll always remember his criticisms more. And it's hard for me to express this to him, because I want to show mercy and not make him feel as bad as he made me. But now the problem's become that when he asks me to go somewhere with him "for fun," I'll decline, because I distinctly despise his lectures on the car ride home.
On Christmas Eve, I was the only one of his three children to agree to go with him and my mother to the midnight mass (church). Now I had been recently laid off, but on the car ride there, my ever-loving mother was giving me words of encouragement about working on being more outgoing in general so that one day I can meet someone and eventually settle down and have kids, as my older sister recently had twin sons. Now to yang that yin, my father replies (paraphrasing here), "But they're not going to want to hang out with someone who doesn't have a job or doesn't take care of himself properly." My emotions felt like Charlie Brown and my dad was Lucy pulling away the football. And I sat through 30 minutes of the mass, trying to forgive my father, but that was a tipping point. I literally walked out before Eucharist and walked home (about 3 miles).
And now as I'm typing this out, I realize I should keep more things like this in a journal to reflect upon, and I also need to re-learn how to forgive my father, because I recently let him know that I don't want to go anywhere with him because of his negative (though unintended) rants.
I apologize to anyone who has read this far, but my mind races all the time, not just in social situations. It just gets worse in social situations.
