Saturday, April 14, 2012

I am the Mockingjay…

Someone (who has obviously living under a rock for the past few months) asked me about the mockingjay pin I have on my jacket.

I told them that it was just a pin. Nothing special.

Which is, of course, total bullshit.

What they want is for me to truly take on the role they designed for me. The symbol of revolution. The Mockingjay… I must now become the actual leader, the face, the voice, the embodiment of the revolution.—Katniss Everdeen, “Mockingjay”

As I’m crawling out of the abyss, I’m looking for things to cheer me on, since the majority of my friends have stayed silent this entire time. I get it - I wouldn’t know what to do, either. I don’t hate them for it. I’m just disappointed.

I fell in love with Katniss the moment I met her. Her strength. Her naivety. Her ability to inspire others to do great things.

Here’s a girl who lost her father in a mine accident. Whose mother couldn’t handle it and mentally checked out. Who had a young sister who depended on her. Despite the odds, she made sure her family didn’t starve - including the distant mother she grew to hate and the cat she tried to kill.

When her sister’s name is called at the Reaping, she volunteers to take her place, even though it means certain death.

Twice she puts the Capitol in their place - once when Rue dies, and again at the end when she decides a Romeo & Juliet like suicide pact is the way to get both her and Peeta out of the arena.

She faces certain death again, during the Quarter Quell, when she’s forced back into the arena with other winners. The there’s her undying devotion to Peeta - she’ll sacrifice herself before she’ll let him be killed, simply because she cannot lose the boy with the bread.

Yes, there’s certainly a bit of a love story there, but it’s never played out the way you think it would be. It’s a second thought, almost, to the rebellion she’s started. Without meaning to, she’s put every one she loves in grave danger. 

But she survives. Peeta survives. And her children never know they play on a graveyard.


It’s her strength, in spite of all she’s faced, that’s been giving me hope. To remind me that it gets better.

When I see that mockingjay pin on my jacket, I remember that I’m stronger than the bipolar. That I’ve survived the worst several times, and that I always find a way out of it.

I have to remember that, while I’m mostly powerless against it, I have learned its tricks. I know how to sidestep the traps it sets for me. I know how to block out the voices in my head when they’re at their loudest.

I know how to survive.

I just need a reminder from time to time.

Posted by Matty on 04/14 at 10:07 AM