No Good Deed
Ah, Luis, you almost had us feeling empathy for you a few strips ago, dude.
The Utopian: Foundation – a webcomic by Pj Perez
A webcomic serial about life after death.
Ah, Luis, you almost had us feeling empathy for you a few strips ago, dude.
For me, walking is exhausting. I used to be like Luis is portrayed here, basically demanding that I be allowed to do things on my own… and then I was tired one day and I let someone else hold a door open for me, and I realized that I had something that I hadn’t had in a while: energy to do more. You cannot understand how important this is, until you’ve been robbed of it by your body’s infirmity.
Someone by the name of Christine Miserandino came up with a way to model this kind of exhaustion (for her the condition which caused it was Lupus, but it applies to anything that exhausts you more quickly than you would become exhausted if you were fully hale and hardy), and called it “Spoon Theory”. It’s available to read and understand here: http://www.butyoudontlooksick.com/articles/written-by-christine/the-spoon-theory/
Spoon Theory is an explanation of disease-caused exhaustion that was thought up in a sit-down diner late of an evening. Christine was with a friend who had watched her and held her hand through the endurance of most/all of the indignities that came with her condition, but who didn’t actually understand how it all felt. So, Christine came up with a way to describe it by taking a bunch of the spoons in the dining room and handing them to her friend as a kind of role-playing token, and explained that various actions would cost spoons. (I strongly recommend reading the original source, she has a flair for explaining it that I cannot do justice by simply summarizing. I’d estimate it’s around 10 to 15 minutes of reading.)
Coming to grips with your body’s new incapacities and exhaustion is difficult, especially if you once didn’t have them. It is a long-term, multi-step, multi-stage process of acceptance. I cannot say that it’s the same for everyone, but I had to give up a lot of things over time that I found were just too tiring and too painful to do anymore. But I’ve been in various amounts of denial over the years, and tried to do things that cost me too many spoons, and my denial has led me to be somewhat short with people who offered to help me — just like Luis is, here.
So I’ve taken to using the disability plates at the library to trigger the automatic doors, because pushing/pulling them open is more difficult than it was when I was more able-bodied. I’ve taken to riding the electric carts when I’m at a store large enough to have them (even though I always have my cane in the cart basket, I still get a lot of dirty looks from people who assume that because I don’t look like I’ve got physical issues I should be walking like they do). I still insist on unloading my own cart into my vehicle, though — yes, it’s painful and tiring to push a shopping cart around (especially if you get one that likes to turn its wheels at a specific angle instead of in the direction of travel), but it’s one piece of independence that I still have.
Thank you, PJ, for depicting Luis’s actions and reactions in a very realistic manner. I can identify with this struggle. Since you wrote it years ago, I know that nothing I can do will change the outcome… but I hope he comes to accept his limitations without trying to do things that his experience should tell him that he can’t do, soon. If only to save himself intense frustration and depression. I look forward to following his story.
This is all just a long way of saying this:
tl;dr: People who have never endured what Luis is enduring will never be able to empathize or sympathize with the struggle he’s going through; as someone who has gone through it/is still going through it, I understand and identify with it all too well. Thanks for creating a comic that’s accurate (at least as far as Luis’s struggle to accept himself and his new limitations is concerned — and probably much more, but I can’t gauge accuracy of the depictions of journalist, editor, or copyeditor professions) is concerned. Even if most of the people who read this will be able-bodied and won’t be able to understand why or how it could be accurate, or understand the frustration that leads to Luis not wanting to accept help when it’s freely offered, or why Luis resents his situation so much that he acts like such a dick to people who do help… well, I get it.
Wow, thank you for that. I’ve never researched Spoon Theory, but now I feel even better educated about this, and heartened to know my portrayal of Luis’ situation is so relatable (and accurate). With my background as a journalist, I’ve had to learn to quickly absorb, understand, and explain the experiences of many different people in very short time periods, so I’d like to think that’s made me a little better as a writer in at least conveying the characteristics of these imaginary people with as much empathy as possible. I don’t want to give anything away, but yes, you will see a genesis in the way Luis deals with his situation, and I hope it continues to be at least somewhat realistic (but bearing in mind it’s still a made-up comic!).
(And to answer your question from Twitter: Yes, I do cursory research related to all of the characters I write. For this comic, I’ve had to research sororities and fraternities, challenges and opportunities for wheelchair-bound people, gang behaviors, school district policies, etc. But I mainly just try to put myself into each character and write them as I would experience their particular situation best I can.)