Is It Time Go?

Spoilers for the movie Project Hail Mary ahead.

Last Tuesday my son dragged me to the cinema to watch Project Hail Mary. He’s already seen it multiple times and declared it his favourite film of all time, which at this point I think makes it an official special interest.

I, on the other hand, haven’t been to the cinema since the deeply cursed Alien Resurrection experience of 2004, because enclosed, dark rooms with no obvious escape route are apparently where my brain decides I am now a caged animal.

But he was so excited about it. He needed someone to sit next to him while he talked at me about it afterwards, and I wanted to understand what on Erid he was on about. Like Rocky, my son gives me a reason to be brave.

The Enclosed Space Anxiety

I can’t entirely blame Alien Resurrection for this, although the deeply cursed hot alien lesbian energy didn’t exactly help. The anxiety was already there. That film just happened to be the last time I willingly put myself in a dark, enclosed room with no obvious escape route.

This is a thing I’ve dealt with for most of my life. I’m fine – for a while. Then something shifts. The anxiety builds quietly until it suddenly isn’t quiet anymore, and I go from “coping” to full caged animal mode. All I can think about is getting out. I start shaking, pacing, mentally spiralling. There is no logic left, just:

LEAVE

It’s not just the cinema. It’s happened at the doctors, the hospital, even in my own house when people are here doing work and I feel like I can’t leave. Not being able to leave makes me feel unsafe. It’s worse if there are no windows, or I can’t clearly see where the exit is. My brain decides that this is now a situation I might not get out of, and reacts accordingly.

The anxiety actually started the night before we went. I got really upset about it, and then immediately felt ridiculous for not even being able to go to the cinema. In the end I just told myself: we are going, that’s it.

My son was so excited for me to see Project Hail Mary. He’s deep into it – this is clearly the new special interest. Having been on the receiving end of many of my special interests (Mass Effect, Cyberpunk 2077, me explaining what Loop Quantum Gravity is at midnight), I wanted to give him that feeling back. That feeling of someone actually knowing what you’re on about.

He doesn’t get attached to films like this often. This is “The One” and that deserves to be celebrated – even if it means sitting there while he explains, in great detail, why some random person on the internet has fundamentally misunderstood the entire meaning of the film.

Honestly, I would quite like to say the last film I saw in the cinema was Project Hail Mary, and not Alien Resurrection over 20 years ago. Or even better, 28 Days Later. The one I saw before that one. That one was actual cinema.

Instead, I’ve been walking around for two decades with “hot alien lesbian movie” as my final cinematic experience.

Mummo, Son Get Starbucks, Question

The cinema was in Cardiff, right by the train station, so I met my son after uni. I was already horribly anxious, but the train ride helped. Despite it also being an enclosed space I’m completely fine on trains. There are big windows though. Logic? None. But windows fix everything apparently. Someone should tell the Geth in Mass Effect.

The journey is only about 20 minutes, which sits firmly in my “I can tolerate this without turning into a feral animal” range. I just stared out of the window and watched the sky, which was ridiculously blue for once.

He was waiting outside the station, super excited to see the film again, and even more excited that I was actually going with him. We had half an hour until the movie, so obviously: Starbucks.

I hadn’t slept properly because of the anxiety, so the coffee was not optional. I was that specific kind of tired where my meds make me feel slightly sedated – honestly, not the worst thing given the situation.

I got an Iced Americano, which was genuinely great, and we sat there with our plushies like always. The people next to us asked about them and were really lovely about it. My son had matched his bear to Ryland Grace – full outfit, tiny plush Earth and everything. It was adorable. That whole moment helped more than I expected.

And then it was time for the film.

Mummo, Son Watch Movie, Statement

Project Hail Mary made me laugh, cry, and feel very seen. I saw myself in Ryland Grace more than I expected.

**The penguin that gave me best friend magic**

I never feel capable. I don’t feel brave or strong, and I’m definitely not made of whatever astronauts are made of. That hasn’t stopped me fantasising about escaping to space most of my life, although realistically I’d only cope if I could sit in the Cupola of the International Space Station the entire time and not move.

Being forced into something important you’re completely unready for, though – that I understand. That’s been my life more than once. For someone who doesn’t feel brave and would quite happily opt out of everything, I keep ending up in situations where I have to do it anyway.

That’s what recovery feels like right now. I don’t feel ready. I don’t feel strong enough. And somehow, I’m still doing it.

I loved Rocky. And I couldn’t help but draw a parallel with my son. Before him, I felt like I was just floating around on my own. Then suddenly I wasn’t. I loved him, bonded with him, learned how he communicates, realised his brain works completely differently to mine, and then bonded over that even more. I’ve done so many things I didn’t think I was capable of because of him.

Including sitting in a cinema, feeling like a caged animal, and staying. You really do have to find someone to be brave for.

There were moments where Grace looked brave, even though he still clearly wasn’t. He was still scared, still trying to get out of it, still not ready. He just cared enough about Rocky to do it anyway. That hit me harder than anything.

Because that’s what I’ve learned too: you do the right thing scared.

I also loved how differently the film handled aliens. I’m tired of the usual “are they a threat?” debate where humans inevitably prove they’re worse. Instead it was just, “finally, I’m not alone, and we can work together”.

It was simple, and honestly kind of adorable.

I was also surprised by how funny it was. My son had only mentioned crying, so I was expecting something heavy and tragic. It wasn’t. It was warm. Which makes complete sense, because it’s very him. He’s a ray of sunshine, drawn to the light, not the darkness. “Of course this became his special interest” I kept repeating to myself the entire movie.

I really loved it. I can’t wait to watch it again at home so I can actually catch everything – I feel like I only got half of it. It’s one of those films that probably changes a bit every time you watch it.

My only complaint is that it felt compressed. My son’s read the book, so I immediately started interrogating him about everything that got left out. It probably deserves to be about four hours long.

My anxiety, however, was very grateful that it wasn’t.

Anxiety, I Feel It Quietly

My anxiety was there the whole time. I managed to let it exist quietly instead of reacting to it like a feral animal, which is new. I did squirm a fair bit in my seat but usually I don’t get that far. I was really enjoying the film, and then halfway through my brain started its usual:

IS IT OVER YET? WE NEED TO LEAVE. GET OUT. GO HOME.

I held my plushies so tightly my hands cramped and hurt by the end, but it helped. I had my little penguin with me – the one that reminds me of my best friend, WeeGee. I was basically trying to absorb her courage through osmosis. She had it in spades, even when she was scared.

Every time it spiked, I’d look at my son. He was the physical embodiment of 😀 That helped more than anything. I took deep breaths, pulled myself back to the film, and then it would happen again. It came in waves. I’d get immersed, and then:

WHAT ABOUT NOW? TIME TO LEAVE?

**Plants growing between the tracks in a busy train station reminded me how life finds a way to bloom, even in places that don’t seem built for it.**

So I grounded myself in whatever I could. The audio in the cinema is ridiculously good now, by the way. Genuinely impressive. The screen was also massive, which I found funny because most things feel smaller than they did 20 years ago. Apparently cinemas went the opposite direction.

My son had picked perfect seats – centre, eye level – and gave me his precious aisle seat, which I fully appreciated. Knowing I could get out if I needed to made a difference.

I focused on the room. The glittery lights on the steps. The man in front of us eating what I can only assume was 100 individually wrapped snacks. I decided they were Biscoff biscuits, one at a time, with maximum wrapper noise.

Then back to the film. Then back to the anxiety. Then back again.

The film actually made me feel better about not being strong or inherently brave. Even though I wasn’t anxious about saving the world – I was anxious about sitting in a cinema. But still, I did stay. I don’t think being scared of everything is something to be ashamed of.

When I say I’m not strong and I’m too sensitive, people rush to correct me, like I’m being negative or self hating. Like it’s something that needs fixing. Like I should just become brave and strong for everyone else’s benefit. For inspiration.

I’ve even seen people online in their reviews criticise Ryland Grace for that. But I don’t think it works like that. Yes, it’s stopped me from going to the cinema for over 20 years. But it also means that when I do do something like this, it matters. It shows how much it mattered to me to stay.

And I stayed because it mattered. It mattered to my son that I was there, sitting next to him, watching something he loves, and stepping into his little Erid based world with him. It’s mattered ever since. He’s loved explaining everything to me, and laughing at my terrible Rocky based jokes. I’m speaking his language again.

Project Hail Mary was amaze, amaze, amaze, and I love Rocky so much.

On the train home I was completely wiped out. Relieved. And, if I’m honest, a bit proud that I stuck it out.

We spent the evening in the glow of my son’s excitement. His friend had actually gone to see it at the same time as us, which was adorable, and she immediately started sending him a flood of Hail Mary TikToks.

Despite the anxiety, it was a good day.

Ironically, having anxiety about this felt like a bit of a break from my ED recovery anxiety, which has been relentless lately. I don’t think you’re supposed to fight fire with fire, but apparently fighting anxiety with different anxiety works. Temporarily.

I’m really looking forward to it coming out so we can watch it at home, properly, multiple times. Especially now that our flat has been fully converted into a Project Hail Mary shrine. I mean that literally.

There are Rocky plushies. A Hail Mary ship made out of Lego. A Rocky made out of Lego. Earth hacky sacks. My son walking around dressed like Ryland Grace, complete with his new “Ryland glasses” worn at increasingly questionable angles.

It’s chaos. It’s brilliant. And it’s really nice to finally understand the world I’ve apparently been living in this whole time.

I’ve been singing this constantly since I wrote the subtitle for the anxiety section, so I had to add it :-