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Even superheroes get the blues

Last week, Roger and I had a rare date opportunity so we actually got to see a movie. In the theater. What a treat! We seized the chance to see the latest Iron Man flick.  It is rare that we miss a superhero movie. Admittedly, some sequels are better than others (Batman and Robin, anyone?) but it's tough to screw up a good superhero story and the latest crop has had a good track record.


Iron Man 3 was no exception. It had just the right balance of action, violence, romance, callbacks to previous films, and hints of what is probably to come in the forthcoming Avengers sequel.  Here is what I didn't expect: apparently Tony Stark and I have a few things in common.

No, it's not the endless supply of revenue.  It isn't the supersonic brain that slips into hyperdrive and invents objects that in the "real world" would be worthy of a Nobel Prize. It isn't even his ability to charm the pants (literally) off of most members of the opposite sex.  Our common thread seems to lie in the blinding glimpse of the obvious revelation that trauma can wreak havoc on everyone...even Superheroes.

Every superhero has a fatal flaw.  Superman has kryptonite.  The Hulk has rage issues.  My favorite supers aren't necessarily those who are gifted with out of this world powers or genetic mutations.  I love the super smart billionaires with a cause.  Batman and Iron Man are the first that come to mind.  Biologically based superheroes seem destined for greatness, almost like they have no choice in the matter (although the X-men could demonstrate otherwise) but billionaire superheroes could just run their companies or live off of their trust funds.  Instead, they feel compelled to change the world.

In Iron Man 3, Tony Stark reaches a breaking point and the fallout is eerily familiar.  The events of the first Avengers film seemed to push Tony right to the edge.  He's not sleeping. He's working himself to the point of exhaustion. The smallest mention of New York sends him into a panic attack. Meanwhile? The world treats him as the hero that he is.  "Hey! You're Tony Stark! That amazing guy who did those amazing things! You're awesome!" 

Except he doesn't feel quite so awesome. Sometimes the hero moniker just means that your eyes have been open to a host of dangers most folks can't even imagine.  Before there is even time to heal from one trauma, a new one comes your way.  Scar tissue needs a chance to grow before it makes you tougher.  

There are many ways to fight your demons and manage your fears.  You can talk about it. You can throw yourself into a passionate cause. You can find comfort in the people you love because you know that they will understand. They will keep you safe.  Whatever means you choose (hint: usually it takes more than one), one thing is for sure: even superheroes have to remember that the solution isn't quick  or easy.  

While I am proud of all of the things we have accomplished through CJSTUF, I sometimes bristle at the superhero moniker that some bestow on me.  I am honored. It gives me a reason to keep striving and keep working for our cause. But I also know that I am human.  I have my flaws and my moments of anxiety around grief and my future.  Being busy is good but overscheduling myself can be a way to compensate and it isn't always healthy.  Perhaps knowing our limits can be an important step in acknowledging the hero that lies inside all of us.  


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