If I Were Being Honest

heart windows

I might say that I were running from some of the best things that have happened to me.

I might say I was running from my readers.

I might say that I was running from the intimacy of this place.

I might say that I’m afraid of people watching, speculating, critiquing me from up close and from afar.

I might say that I’m so afraid of making mistakes, that I don’t do anything at all.

I might say that I haven’t felt any emotions for the past two years and I kept myself that way on purpose–because the ability to numb myself was far easier than to see myself publicly fall apart.

I might say I hid.

I would definitely say I hid.

I’ve been hiding from every request, every reader, every “fan”, every person who is exactly like me–just sitting on the other end of the screen.

And for that, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you more. I’m sorry I ran when it got hard. I’m sorry I didn’t have the answers you needed, or that I needed for that matter.

I can’t say definitively that I’m back, only that I think about you and about us nearly every day. I talk about you often. I bring you up in job interviews, in therapy sessions, in conversations with my mother. And I try to cry, but I couldn’t cry until today when I read about another blogger wanting privacy in her life and I realized that there are no right ways to pull back from the public once you were so intimate with them; but sometimes it’s the healthiest thing to do. Sure, I put my career at risk and I’m not sure it will ever fully recover, but I had to take a break. It wasn’t the threat of suicide that was the problem–it was the threat of living with this suffocating paranoia and anxiety.

I had to breathe again. I had to learn to trust real humans face-to-face again. I had to learn to sit on my mother’s couch and talk about something OTHER than this blog and my issues with it. I had to walk into her kitchen–hearing the sound of the pan sizzling and smelling the roasted vegetables in the oven–and sit down on the bar stool and know that I was welcome again; because whatever hit me over the past two years did so like a fast train and I haven’t been able to recover friendships and relationships that  matter to me so very much.

If I were being honest, Blog, I hate you. I hate you so much. But if I were being more honest, Blog, I love you. You’ve taught me so much. You’ve forced me to grow through the pain. You’ve forced me to make mistakes in public. You’ve forced me to retreat, to be silent, to simmer. You’ve reminded me how much I love poetry and the Great Outdoors. You’ve reminded me who is important to me and how to hold them closer than I ever have before. You’ve helped me hope for love and find it. And most of all, you’ve helped me come face to face with the woman in the mirror and realize that she’s not so bad after all.

I’m Back, Full Force: Let’s Do This Shit!

In a recent profile on Brad Pitt, Salon talked about earlier parts of Brad’s career and what changed him over the years. Brad has come into his own as a great actor (and not just a pretty face) over the years, but as it turns out, he wasn’t always embracing the moment life had given him. He says:

For a long time I thought I did too much damage – drug damage. I was a bit of a drifter. A guy who felt he grew up in something of a vacuum and wanted to see things, wanted to be inspired. I followed that other thing. I spent years f–king off. But then I got burnt out and felt that I was wasting my opportunity. It was a conscious change. This was about a decade ago. It was an epiphany – a decision not to squander my opportunities. It was a feeling of get up. Because otherwise, what’s the point?

I spent the ’90s trying to hide out, trying to duck the full celebrity cacophony. It wigged me out a bit. I started to get sick of myself sitting on a couch, holding a joint, hiding out. It started feeling pathetic. It became very clear to me that I was so intent on trying to find a movie about an interesting life, but I wasn’t living an interesting life myself. (Emphasis my own)

As many of you personally know, I’ve had a rough time with attention (good and bad) and bouts of paranoia last year. In fact, the last two years have been brutal. Absolutely a wreck. I started hiding and even then I didn’t feel that great. I was planning on shutting my blog and social media (even private profiles) down completely and running off…line. I deleted hundreds of friends in an attempt to get more privacy and mainly because I was having a tough time figuring out who the Jesus trolls and haters were.

It was overwhelming. All of it. I could go on, but it was Dark with a capital D.

A few weeks ago I sat down with a very nice therapist with Great Hair. We talked about all of this–my blog, my story, my need for boundaries. As I talked it all out, I started seeing things more clearly and started realizing that this was manageable and it didn’t have to suffocate me like it was. I started to feel great again. Happy, even. Maybe I could DO this for real, I thought. I even got a “fuck it, who cares?” attitude about whether my mom or family reads my blog.

And suddenly, over the past few weeks, something miraculous has happened. My sense of humor came back. I don’t consider myself a comedienne but I sure as hell am starting to realize that sometimes, I am just that. I’m also a writer, sure, but not the kind of writer I thought I was or I was trained to be. I’m evolving. Plus, who needs categories all the time? Creators create.

My blog has been the bane of my existence the past 2 years because I just could not handle the eyes staring at me, and I’m not certain that’s going to change, so bear with me if I have an Amanda Bynes moment. I’m probably going to need Great Hair/therapist for awhile and that’s okay.

What’s about to happen now is what Brad Pitt talked about above: homegirl is going to embrace the shit out of it all and go for it. I’m not going to squander my opportunities anymore or hide from the ones sitting in front of me, because trust me, I have done just that over and over. I felt like Brad did and it’s a shitty ass feeling:

But then I got burnt out and felt that I was wasting my opportunity. It was a conscious change. This was about a decade ago. It was an epiphany – a decision not to squander my opportunities. It was a feeling of get up. Because otherwise, what’s the point?

The other day I spoke with someone in the TV industry and she was like “It’s great to talk to someone who’s doing it…creating. So many of us want to do just that.” I know, girl. For my entire life I wanted to create and I could not find my voice, my niche, until I started blogging. And then I lost it because I was scared and self-conscious. Well, I’ve found it again and I don’t give a fuck who says I over-share or disagrees with my opinions or doesn’t laugh at my jokes. It’s my life, right Bon Jovi?

It is going to trip me out still that things I say online are going to bother so many people, including half of my family members who don’t know that I’m really just joking.

hell to the no
When I blog, people on the internet be like…

 

But at the end of the day, I’m going to regret it if I don’t live my dreams and I am the single person who is currently holding myself back from all that. 

So, let’s do this shit!

teddy beardancing doc

dancing 2

FYI, I have heard the “Don’t forget me when you’re famous” line from SO many of you which is funny on many levels because: A) No one here is going to get famous, so chill. B) In the event I get popular, I will absolutely still be myself and we can do Google hangouts*. Deal?

If you enjoy what I post on my personal profile or my fan page, please help out by sharing my posts when you like them.

*Google hangouts subject to my nap time with cats schedule.