Tuesday, January 29, 2013


I’ve had many moments like this and today isn’t any different, but sometimes I feel really discouraged and disappointed when I have to interact with people in this industry who work behind the scenes.  While most are professional and courteous, there’s an alarming number who behave completely unprofessionally and just downright mean.  I wish I could bypass contact with them altogether but it’s really impossible since these are the majority of people I come across on a near daily basis. 

I understand people don’t like to be walked all over and constantly deal with temperamental actors/models/dancers aka “the talent” with sometimes stupid and/or mundane questions, but I don’t think myself stupid and I really hate when people talk to me as if I were.  I also try to remain professional and friendly but find my behavior met with brusqueness and sometimes blatant disrespect.  It’s draining!

So what’s the solution?  I cannot expect anyone to change and lord knows they won’t.  We all go through this and know when to speak up but also went to step down.  I don’t really know.  I tend to bark when provoked but I know I have to rethink this strategy.  Maybe kill them with kindness?  

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Starry Night

There’s a redundant theme in my life, one that has been developing since I was 16 years old perhaps—that’s almost half my lifetime—quite a long time when I think about it.  And I often wonder until what point will I have reached my ultimate stand-still?

I never quite felt right in my own skin but I used to fall back on the crutch of adolescent angst and awkwardness.  I didn’t have good friends with whom I could confide and I often resorted to foolish acts of self infliction.  Again, adolescent angst and awkwardness were my scapegoat. 

Until I hit my 20s and realized, this just isn’t going away.

In and out of therapy between the ages 10 and 25, on and off various medications, various clinical diagnoses, and a few exhausting missteps, I find myself at 26 years old feeling incredibly drained.

It takes an extraordinary amount of strength and fortitude to build oneself into a contributing member of society and even more talent and skill to become a successful contributing member of society.  I’ve often been described as one with strength and fortitude, but these days I’m beginning to wonder why the hell these characteristics are eluding me?  Why do I constantly feel that positive thinking is just beyond my grasp; that someone like me can never hope to attain a clear mind?  Maybe I’m just too sensitive for my own good.  I’ve often been called sensitive, sometimes in a good way and other times as an insult. 

Joining the ranks of humanity with several cases of immense heart break I often felt—like millions of others—that I could never survive or dig my way out.  And I know it’s simply not true but yet I do not really believe it either.  Now I’m given the opportunity to work on myself, to fix the relationship with me, to learn to feel okay with who I am and what I have to offer this godforsaken earth.  Except that I don’t really know how to.  Sometimes I feel like the world is so full of exciting possibilities waiting to be discovered or I break into joyous laughter from hearing an amazing song on the radio.  I relish these moments because I know them to be extremely short-lived.  Like the first 5 minutes of waking from a dream, I know these feelings will deceptively flicker away to a faraway place and all I’ll be left with is the memory of something warm and happy…and false.  For the rest of my conscious being is spent in misunderstanding and extreme sensitivity to just about everything and everyone.  It’s crippling.  I don’t want to move, feel, or see anything anymore.  I just want to bury myself under the cover of darkness and wish it all away.

Except that life does not work that way.  I don’t drink alcohol or do drugs and I have no way to dull my senses.  I simply feel everything and overanalyze all the possibilities and feel utterly powerless.  I create stories in my head that often times drive me to insanity and obsession and I spin out of control.  I’ve grown to distrust all the people around me, perhaps to the point of paranoia and I’ve lost sight of the line between reality and my imagination.  I don’t know how to think reasonably anymore and I often cannot see things for what they really are.

I really don’t know how much more I can handle.  My mind is stuck in neutral and when I try to switch to first gear, the engine stalls going uphill.  I often think there’s really only one choice left given the overall disdain I feel towards myself, but I don’t want to give in so easily.  But I also absolutely hate waking up each day.  It’s a dilemma- a dialogue in my head each morning (or afternoon) - that I feel on a constant basis and I’m just so tired of it.

It takes me a really long time to get over things and honestly, I’m still not quite over lots of things years past.  So how the hell am I supposed to get over occurrences of more recent days? 

I feel a lack of drive and inertia.  I feel paralyzed.  I feel like a prisoner of my own brain.  And I’m telling myself that I need to do something before I end my story while it’s still being written.

Saturday, January 12, 2013


My chest contains an empty hole like a vast desert devoid of life.  I gave myself wholeheartedly to another and am now in the slow process of taking it back, little by little.  I need to pick it up, clean it off, put it back together, fit it inside me and nurture it back to health.  Before I can even think of sharing it once more, I have to do these things first.  It’s a painful and tedious process.  

Bits of my heart are still stuck under her shoe…