Religion and Mental Illness, why do they seem to go together? Maybe because religion is pretty much universal as well as considered as close to magic or mystery as society will permit. Mental Illnesses are universal too and societies tend to treat them as if they’re big mysteries. This is over simplifying the whole comparison between the two of course. There are some movies that almost seem to be made to bring up the parallels between the two so that fruitful conversation can happen. Unfortunately both are very touchy subjects and are avoided at all costs. Jacob’s Ladder is one of my all time favorite movies. It is not a happy movie and if you get disturbed by most things you will have nightmares after seeing this movie.
If you are like me and you enjoy horror, psychological or just plain bizarre movies you will like this movie. Pay attention, some real weird @ssed sh!t happens throughout the film. There is much symbolism and whenever I am seriously deep in an episode I can freak myself out with the Mental Illness/Religious connections.
This particular deleted scene from Jacob’s Ladder is almost blatant in it’s demonstration of the parity between religious and psychological themes. The doctor as curer or priest as he applies the cure to the afflicted. The demon that is a hallucination.
(Just a list of movies that were on Wiki’s website for Jacob’s Ladder as similar, I believe.)
*Angel Heart*, Dead End, Deathdream, The I Inside, Johnny Got His Gun, *Open Your Eyes*, Passengers, *The Others*, *The Seventh Seal*, Soul Survivors, Stay, Sublime, *Vanilla Sky* and *Memento* (*Tetsuo*)
Every d@mn night I feel that she hates me. She’s thinking that she’s saddled with me. I wasn’t what she deserved. And I wished she’d just killed me, got rid of me back before this whole ride became a sh!tstorm. Because if she didn’t deserve me, I didn’t deserve this.
I’m seeing the things. They crawl, pop up, creep, fly, hang out, they do whatever they want. And the whistle, I don’t mention it anymore. There are so many signs lately. I want to be ready but I have sunk so far into complacency.
Tonight I fell asleep before the news. I dreamt that I was shut in a room that someone had defecated in. Because I knew the people in the house didn’t want me there I figured I’d ingratiate myself by cleaning up the mess. The mess was horrid. It stretched from the floor of the room onto a chair. I was wearing a sheepskin coat. I picked up the broom and the dust pan. I found them covered in feces. Ugh, I turned to the sink and blasted the hot water.
The sleeves to the fur coat roiled. Mice were crawling up my legs and biting me and digging into my clothes. I shook my arms and kicked my legs, mice went flying. I forgot about the cr@p while I tried to find out the source of the mice. They disappeared, so I went back to cleaning up the smeared stool. Again the mice invaded my coat and clothes. I felt like my skin was being ground by small pieces of glass. I slammed my arms against the walls. In a moment of enlightenment I asked myself “WTF am I doing here?” I dropped the coat and walked out the door.
I have to write a “list poem”. I have no clue what that even means.