ONE WOMAN (Cambridge Junction)***

 

By Sophie

Link: https://www.junction.co.uk/one-woman

Available until: 24^th March 2021

Content warning: 14+, mental health, mentions of suicide

I didn’t realise until after I paid that I was expected to have headphones.

To be fair, the play description does say it’s produced using binaural sound. But I’d never heard of binaural sound and I didn’t look it up because it sounded technical and therefore uninteresting. ‘Bi’ means two and ‘aural’ means listening and there was nothing in that to suggest I might need extra equipment.

I do, however, have borderline personality disorder, which is relevant to the play as it’s written and performed by someone with BPD. So despite being made to feel seriously rejected, irrelevant, useless and abnormal just because I don’t have headphones, I really wanted to watch the play and bring my own viewpoint to the review, so I watched it without headphones.

It’s hard to say if the headphones are necessary or not because it’s impossible to know if I missed anything or not. I think the only bits I missed where when several voices were talking at once, but that’s something I have problems with anyway so I don’t think headphones would have helped.

It’s good to be inclusive and the fact Cambridge Junction are hosting this play on their website shows they’re very inclusive, but technophobes come in all shapes, sizes and ages, and with all diagnoses. After searching the website carefully, I did find a page that said the play was ‘better’ with headphones, but the video just said I’d need headphones and that didn’t go down too well with my emotions.

As the title suggests, One Woman is the story of one woman with BPD and it’s very important to be aware of that. Cheryl Martin’s story is valid and relevant because it’s hers. It is artistic and beautiful, even when it hurts. It could provide great inspiration for anyone who still has hope. But that doesn’t mean everyone with BPD has the same story. Far from it.

Cheryl wrote has own story and she performs it in this video – sometimes painfully but honestly and beautifully. Juliet Ellis is credited as her director and collaborator and it is beautifully-directed. There are a lot of images. A lot of silences. A lot of peace early on, which is surprising because having BPD is not peaceful, but this play has a lovely atmosphere. There’s sadness in it, but also a lot of beauty.

The play begins with images of the sea. Someone stands there, covered with a white sheet. Hiding. A ghost. Because that’s what it’s like sometimes. The need to hide. The feeling that you’re not really part of the world at all.

There was a section about butterflies that had become extinct. Many butterflies have become extinct in the UK too. Some have come back, but not all. The Large Blues are back and spreading across England. The Large Tortoiseshells were last year reported to be making a comeback. Attempts to re-introduce the Large Coppers were unsuccessful. It’s funny that it’s often the large butterflies that struggle. There are exceptions, but the Large Heath is much less common than the Small Heath. I wonder if people expect them to be okay because they’re the large ones. Just like I’m expected to be okay because I have a degree, I always look nice and my family are middle class. But extinction can hit any butterfly, and mental health problems and BPD can hit any human being.

A lot of what is said in this play isn’t really spelled out. Cheryl hints at what happened to her and explains about her discovery of her physical scars so I can guess some of it, but I think there might be other parts I’m missing because it was told in images and not words. What happened to Cheryl is real and it’s terrible. Not everyone with BPD suffers from abuse. Sometimes it just feels that way. But there is a high incidence of abuse and Cheryl is very honest, telling us as much as she can remember.

It’s wrong, but I actually felt jealous of Cheryl at times. The reported conversations with the psychologist feel unhelpful but also accepting. No psychologist has asked me if something happened. They just told me it didn’t. No psychologist has asked if I wanted to talk about it. They just smirked and said in a sing-song voice that we weren’t supposed to be talking about that, were we? No psychologist has ever asked how I feel. They just told me how I ought to feel. Cheryl was probably luckier with her psychologist, but that wouldn’t have made her situation easy. Or even easier. BPD hurts.

As the play goes on, we slowly see and hear more of Cheryl. The white sheet is removed. She seems strong and powerful, but does she really feel that way inside? I don’t know, but you can’t judge mental health on the outside. There aren’t always physical signs. Sometimes, all you can do is listen. So many people don’t.

It is beautiful to watch Cheryl starting as the ghost she describes herself as and slowly peeling back the layers like a butterfly emerging. Watching her world expand. Knowing that she has a future and feeling happy for her.

I was really hoping One Woman might put my feelings into words in a way people could understand; that I could send everyone I know a link to this video and even pay for it for them in the desperate hope they might understand me at last. But this is one person’s experience, not everyone’s experience. It’s not meant to represent everybody. So much of what Cheryl talks about is outside my experience. Everyone within a particular diagnosis is still an individual. If you have BPD, you have to keep in mind that it is about Cheryl and not about you, but that was difficult for me and I took some of it quite personally.

But I’m so glad Cheryl had the platform to tell her story. It is really important to see people with BPD as complete human beings who aren’t violent and it must be inspiring for anyone who still has hope to know that recovery is possible.