September 28, 2018

I was trying to walk into my boss’s office, but instead I got my foot caught in the strap of my backpack and I tripped trying to get out of it and FELL into her office. She hasn’t stopped laughing. It was amazing. What an entrance.

That moment alone reminded me of how much I love comedy. I just want to make people laugh, you guys. I don’t want to talk about murder all day. I like murder (when it’s not me or anyone I know or love or care about or have ever met…let’s not murder people). But I don’t want to talk about it all day. I want to make jokes and fall over and write comedy.

How did I get so far from my goal?

Well, reality. Bills and such. Expectations from my family. But really – I am to blame. It was me. I didn’t react well to the grief. I still haven’t recovered. So here we are. Killings instead of killing at stand-up.

I got sad. I got angry. I curled up in a ball. I crawled inside myself and never came out. Every time I think about making people laugh, I also think about how sad I am.

Can I even do it anymore?

Day 110 – I miss laughing.

September 15, 2018

I spent the day helping my friend move. He has helped me move no fewer than 4 times. I have helped him move 0 times. (He’s never moved…calm self.)

I hated every damn second of it. When I moved, I had approximately 1,000,000 things to move and he helped me do it without complaining even once. He had: a bed, dresser, box of clothes, some little knickknacks, shoes in a suitcase, a few board games, and a bookshelf. You would have thought based on my annoyance and exhaustion that he had as many things as I have. Not even close. AND we had help. AND I barely did anything. I complained when he asked me to make his bed while he carried in other items from the U-haul. I sighed and moaned when I had to take the clothes out of the garment bags, and not just leave them there. I almost hyperventilated when he asked me to go through one of the boxes when I was just uselessly sitting on the floor pretending to be useful. How dare he?!?

My instinct is to blame how overall tired I am from being sad all the damn time. Sadness takes a lot out of you. I imagine it’s similar to hatred/anger. I wouldn’t know, because I feel them both simultaneously, so I can’t tell them apart. It is exhausting to be wrecked from sadness, though.

I have almost no patience for anyone or anything. I get upset when people ask things of me or expect a normal level of participation/help/being present/caring/showing up. So I “helped” my friend move but really I wanted to sleep in the corner and believe I was anywhere else, living someone else’s life.

Not moving that stupid, heavy dresser with its stupid, heavy clothes and its stupid, heavy expectations that I be normal.

Day 97 – Just be normal

August 18, 2018

I had a great time with friends tonight and simultaneously realized I am 95 years old on the inside and want to be home in pajamas by 10. WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN???

I genuinely tried to talk my friends out of going out after we watched THE LION KING in the park like children. We ended up going out. It was lovely, but I swear to you the minute one of my friends yawned, I pointed at her and was like, “YES” then said I felt the same and was ready to go. I left before her.

On another note, I think sometimes people don’t live up to our expectations, however low we feel they are, and it can be really hard to accept and navigate. I give 100% to every thing I do. If I commit to a project, a person, a lifestyle, a sport, an activity, to help someone with something, etc. I will go to the ends of the earth to be successful at it. Apparently, not everyone is like that. I feel pretty frustrated by this realization because even though no one has to be AS committed as I am, I cannot believe people want to half-ass things or agree to do something but not really do it. WHAT? Don’t agree to it. People are counting on you. Don’t accept responsibilities. Don’t pursue a difficult career. Don’t claim you’ll do something. If you are a flaky, non-committal, irresponsible, half-assing, low-effort, inconsiderate, unreliable person, don’t agree to anything with any other humans. People deserve to be able to count on others, however large or small that thing is. I know that it might seem easier to agree sometimes and then work out the excuses later, but that’s crap and also only works when you’re low on the invite list to an acquaintance’s party where they won’t notice your absence.

Honestly. I want to be able to count on other people. I know we’re taught to look out for ourselves, but it’s in everyone’s best interest to be present and to follow through. Everyone wins. I cannot see a downside. BE A PERSON. SHOW THE FUCK UP. That is all.

Day 69 – Unreliable People and Pajamas

July 16, 2018

It’s time.

I have spent so much of my life ignoring what I’m really good at. I’ve danced around it. I’ve hung out in its vicinity. I’ve let everything and everyone derail me from it. I’ve ignored my best interests. I’ve gotten in my own way at every single turn. Even when it was obvious that I should stick with it, that I should dig in and try harder, I scared myself off.

It’s not easy to follow your path. It’s not easy to take the difficult path because it’s not like the hardest thing was deciding to do it. Fuck, that was hard. But it’s the every day. It’s continuing down that path that some days seems downright impossible and convincing yourself that it’s not impossible. That you can do it. That it’s somewhere inside you and you have to keep pushing through all the bullshit.

And there is A LOT of bullshit. Like, more bullshit than not bullshit. First, there’s the men in my field. Then, there are the expectations – or lack thereof – depending on the day, because we can’t just PICK ONE OF THOSE, we have to have both of them so I never know what I’m going to get. But worst of all is the way that any little thing is a setback and I have to claw my way back to equilibrium. We’re mostly talking EMOTIONAL equilibrium here, people. A small incident for some registers as nothing, for me it’s Hurricane Katrina and I’m standing alone in the 9th Ward when the levies break.

I get WRECKED when anything sets me back. Family stuff, mostly. But also friend stuff and career stuff and men and a high electricity bill and stubbing my toe and a cashier looking at me weird and making me feel like I must be an ugly, horrible person. Live in this head for a day, people. ONE DAY and you will never laugh at me again. I want you to laugh, actually, so never mind.

It’s goddamn time. I don’t know where to start, don’t get me wrong. I’m not about to jog out into the street Rocky style and defeat the steps of some building downtown. I’m not about to play a motivational song while I take on my enemies and win. I’m not about to get off this couch, even. But I know it’s time to stop with all the excuses or I’ll be old(er) and (more) useless before I know it, still making excuses.

Day 36 – Time.

June 29, 2018

I had a conversation with my friend today, and after watching me practically fall apart in the passenger seat next to her for no apparently reason, she told me it’s time to let go and be free. Right now – and for the last two years – I have been doing what feels to me to be things exclusively for other people. And I have been burying my own needs and mental health concerns underneath all of that. That is NOT to say I haven’t had plenty of selfish moments because to be honest, I have them far more often than I want to admit. But I do a lot to make other people happy/not mad at me/not disappoint them, and it’s starting to take its toll.

Or else, I suppose, I wouldn’t have been crying in a Prius. Actually, there’s probably plenty of reasons to cry in a Prius, but that isn’t what happened tonight. Tonight, I realized I can’t make everyone happy.

Other people’s expectations, man. It’s hard to live up to them and it’s hard to be responsible for them. You know what I’d do on a dream day? I’d wake up early, play tennis, eat (obviously), go to rehearsal all day for a show that I wrote, do stand-up comedy at night, eat intermittently throughout all of that, spend time with friends, and go to bed with the person I love and my dog because my dog is the cutest. Yes, she is, and no, yours is not cuter or better in any way.

At no point in my dream day would I have to live up to anyone’s expectations of me or feel like I’m failing anyone or in any way feel the constant guilt I feel that I’m not what I’m “supposed” to be. Because, for real, I literally want to eat and hang out with friends and travel and do comedy and write and be on stage and cuddle with my awesome dog and the love of my life. Why do we want more than that? That, to me, is success. So why can’t it ever be that simple? I know life is hard, trust me. I know I’m acting idealistic and unrealistic. But, seriously, if people didn’t have so many expectations, I could have all of that free of judgment and guilt.

Also, I should probably see a therapist, but that’s a thought for another day.

Day 29 – Other people’s expectations suck.