August 16, 2018

I have my moments of realizing it’s a beautiful life and moments of thinking it’s hard and tonight I felt that combo very acutely. I am always trying to live my happiest, best, most beautiful life while feeling deeply sad in my very bones. And also while being the most cynical, pessimistic, anxious person on earth.

You can try to fight me on that, but you will not win.

The things we inflict on ourselves and our families and the ones we love with one choice or one action or even a series of choices or actions can haunt us and them for the rest of time. Why do we do these things? Why don’t we all make better choices? Why did I date ANY of the guys I’ve dated before? Why did I buy those flowery pants? Why did I see a dress I bought recently in People Magazine on the body of an 84-year-old? Why did I say that one thing that one time (this question can apply to almost anything I’ve ever said to anyone at any time)? Why why why?

Life can be so beautiful. I think it’s meant to be. But then we fuck it all up with moving away from our families and living alone and working long days and driving everywhere and long commute hours and short vacation time and limited financial resources and interacting with idiots.

These thoughts run through my head a lot. When I eat all the foods, the anxiety gets full and bloated and needs a nap, so I get a short break from them but they always return. Today they reappeared like an angry pimple on a 16-year-old’s face the day before Prom. Go. The Fuck. Away.

Day 67 – Choices Choices Choices

August 14, 2018

Another tough day. When will it get easier? When will I be able to function normally again? Ever?

I tried to write today but couldn’t due to stressful circumstances and the endless grief. Then I tried to watch Netflix to distract myself, but instead bit off all my fingernails that I’d finally grown out and ate a bag of Milanos. Wouldn’t want to stop there, so I also ate half a baguette and drank 5 glasses of iced tea and a bag of Smart Food, THEN I finally put on a bra at 8 PM to leave the house and realized I haven’t showered in 4 days. I left anyway.

Grief is hard. It’s very distracting and emotionally draining and devastating and makes it nearly impossible to do anything useful with your time. I’m supposed to have a script done by tomorrow, but I can’t focus on it and just keep randomly cutting out lines of dialogue or deleting sections or adding new ones in that don’t make sense and don’t fit. So I took an appropriate-length 30 page script and turned it into 40 pages and then got distracted by cookies and stress.

Day 65 – Grief Sucks

August 13, 2018

Here’s the thing… The thing is… I can’t articulate the thing. I spent the evening at a work-related workshop I got invited to, and I can’t quite capture my feelings. On the one hand, it felt good to be in a space working on my craft. On the other hand, I don’t think I had a lot to contribute tonight. Maybe I was off my game. Maybe the material wasn’t accessible to me. Maybe the writing worked well enough that it was easy to ignore the flaws but not so well that it blew me away. Mediocrity, or something just north of there, is easy to gloss over because it’s hard to correct.

So, instead, I ate chips and thought about whether or not my stuff would land. Would I be mediocre without a solution? I had no notes for the first person, but I honestly thought it was okay. It felt like a scene I’d seen before (do NOT pardon the pun), so it must work because someone has put money behind that at one time or another and it probably met with some level of success. So who am I to say it doesn’t work? It DOES work, it just isn’t exactly what I would want it to be. But who am I?

Should I tell her that if I wrote it, I’d want it to show more push and pull, more fighting, more struggle, more frustration, more lightness, more everything? Or should I smile and nod while eating a seemingly endless bag of chips, which is what I actually did?!

And then there’s that very real moment where I had to wonder – really, really wonder – if what I would bring in is actually better. Or worse. Or the same. Or neither. I listened and I watched and I felt like I was truly being faced with things that needed a lot of work. Great. Let’s work them. But why these are all working writers and directors? What are they doing differently than I am? Maybe they’re not bitching about it online… Hard to know for sure. I don’t know anything anymore.

But then I left my confused state behind in that theatre momentarily when I got a text from my parents bringing me back down to the reality of my life. I hate those texts. I hate that I look at my phone afraid I’ll have one. I hate that I hate hearing from them and I hate that I hate the way even a confused moment can seem “good” in comparison. I just wanted a normal moment where I thought about my career and not about the pain and the struggle and the fears and the deep down awfulness of the rest of everything. Thank goodness for modern technology reminding me that that’s not possible.

Day 64 – I Don’t Know Anything Anymore

August 5, 2018

If we adapt, does that mean we forget? If we can go on with our lives, does that mean we don’t care? I struggle with this a lot. I am not okay.

There is not a day that goes by where I don’t regret how things went or ever feel like my old self or feel okay in any way. But I also laugh. I think about my future. I take naps and walks and buy clothes I like. I book trips and go out to dinner. I take vacations. I watch Parks & Rec with a smile on my face. I dream of waffles. I do all the mundane things, too. I do my dishes and clean my bathroom and try to remember the last time I washed my sheets. I text my friends about their everyday problems, and I genuinely want to help them even though a second later it all seems so silly. Lose 5 pounds. Don’t lose 5 pounds. Who cares?!

I cry at inopportune times over chicken piccata or walking down the sidewalk. I can’t watch certain commercials (I’m looking at you, Sarah McLachlan) without it ruining my whole day and I can’t visit certain places (so long, Hawaii) without having a mental breakdown. I think in equal parts with a brain of absolute all-encompassing grief and with hope for my life and future. Devastation is like that, maybe. Maybe everyone goes through this. Maybe we have to survive, because we’re animals, and that’s what we do. And survival means adapting. Means moving on. Means ignoring or forgetting. But then we’re humans again, and we can’t imagine that we could ever have moved on.

I think my mom feels the same way, but we don’t talk about it.

Day 56 – Grief and Comic Relief

July 31, 2018

All that matters about today is that it’s Harry Potter’s birthday. I KNOW I AM TOO OLD FOR IT, BUT I DON’T CARE. Alan Rickman said he’d love it forever and he did and since I am basically on the same level as Alan in every way (except I’m thankfully still alive…knock on wood), it’s fine that I still love HP.

HP changed my life. It truly did. I’m sure it did for a lot of people, but I hate other people, so I don’t care about them. Boiled down, HP was, for me, the ultimate fight of good vs. evil with humor and love and acceptance and friendship without any of the usual over-dramatized, dystopian, or unrealistic elements. Truly, magic included, it just felt so real.

JK Rowling is a genius and I will love her forever for creating that series.

Now that I’m done being mushy, I will tell you that today is ALSO the day where I wore nude Spanx under a black dress and everyone saw them both because they were too long but also because they were NUDE UNDER A BLACK DRESS. You’d think I was taught nothing. If you met my family, you’d know that’s pretty close to the truth…

Not to just stop there, today was also the day I set my friend up on the worst possible date, feeling very innocent about my choice at first, until I got a post-date call at 7 PM (HOW DID THEY EVEN GO ON THE DATE YET?) and realized the error of my ways. Emily, I’m sorry, I love you, I made a mistake, I thought he seemed nice, I suck, please still be my friend.

In other, unrelated news, I have a sudden opening for a new friend…

Day 51 – Harry Potter and Many Mistakes

July 27, 2018

Ups and downs, baby. Today was a mixed bag of crazy, but in the end, I’m on my couch watching Netflix, so I’m not going to complain.

Oh, by the way, living up to my potential SUCKS. What is with people deciding I have potential? Then I just disappoint them. My mom explained the amount of disappointment today. But I was eating a giant chocolate chip cookie at the time, so all I heard was, “yum, this is so good.” Probably coming from my mouth, but who cares? Life hack.

I remember the glory days when my good grades and hard work and big dreams were rewarded, and I didn’t have to PAY ANY BILLS or WORRY ABOUT REAL LIFE THINGS and then during spring break, SOMEONE ELSE PAID FOR MY VACATION TO HAWAII. Why did I want to grow up so fast? Oh, yeah, living with my family. Well, now I’m being dragged back and there are STILL BILLS and NO VACATIONS so I feel like that did not work out at all in my favor.

I’m not complaining, I’m just saying being an adult is THE WORST. I get the “freedom” to eat whatever I want and do whatever I want. If I can afford it. Which I can’t. So… What exactly did I get out of this? No idea.

Day 47 – Adulting and Potential SUCK

July 26, 2018

Normally, surgery is not funny. But usually AFTER the surgery is hilarious. Nothing is better than someone who is on heavy painkillers and thinks it’s the absolute right time for confessions, opinions, ideas, and an insistence that they have a burning cigarette up their nose.

It was a pretty good day if I look at the individual moments, which isn’t usually my strength. USUALLY I notice how the whole thing is full of annoying moments (people) and it all adds up to a really annoying day (with people) and then it seems annoying overall (mostly because of the people). But today, there was laughter in the face of tough times, and that’s really what I love. I know it sounds a little weird, but if any of you knew what my family was like, you’d realize that laughing through tragedy is just a normal Tuesday (yes, today is Thursday, don’t sass me).

So when my dad pulled the oxygen out of his nose to try to find his invisible burning cigarette, or when he tried to get up and leave the hospital because “it’s time to go,” or when he called the nurse in because he had to pee, but instead insisted he was in the wrong room and then proceeded to pee during the conversation, I enjoyed every moment of it. And then I had cake. Oops.

Day 46 – Comedy/Tragedy