Yesterday, my mom, my sister, and I squeezed into a crowded theater to see Iron Man 3 on opening day. I was beyond excited. Marvel's first follow up after Avengers, with good crowd reaction thus far. I had my stuffed pig, Agent Coulson, and a bottle of Diet Coke I managed to sneak in. The promos starts to roll, and I was expecting nothing more than an excellent summer blockbuster.
The movie starts to hit it's stride. I'm sitting back, rolling with it, laughing a lot. Then, Tony is in a discussion with Rohdey when something goes wrong. I think perhaps the arc reactor is spazzing out, that maybe the Mandarin is messing with him. And then Jarvis says it. Tony Stark, you just had a panic attack.
I cried right then and there in the theater. My mom and sister can attest to it.
I don't know if you guys know this, but I happen to have an anxiety disorder. I had my first panic attack on my birthday last year. It sucks. It's not cute, it's not a quirky personality trait. It sucks, a lot. In fact, when I went to see Angers on opening day last year, I had to leave in the middle of the film because I started panicking. I hate it. And I still have that going on.
But you know got me through a lot of the unbearable things? The first day of school, the field shows in the strait jacket of a marching uniform, the unidentifiable fear that plagued me when I least needed it? Superheroes. The Avengers in particular.
To see Tony Stark struggling through something I struggle with was immensely powerful for me. I could hardly believe it when I saw it, and I applaud that film makers for their choice to include it in the film, and I also applaud RDJ's accurate portrayal.
Needless to say, I feel a lot braver now.