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2012: Talkin' 'bout a Resolv-o-lution

01/02/2012 12:02:00

January 1, 2012

I resolve to actually make some resolutions. I don’t usually bother, since I feel like I’m setting myself up for disappointment.

This year is different. I’m going to make a few resolutions as an act of faith and/or desperation.

I can honestly say that 2011 was the worst year of my life. I’ve had worse things happen to me in other years, but I’ve never had SO MUCH crap piled on me in one year. It’s unbelievable. I’ve lived on some horrible fright-coaster, threatened, betrayed, heartbroken and hurt beyond imagination.

So now I know, things have to change. They just have to. It’s time. So it’s time for a perspective shift, because I can’t stay in this place; I can’t keep trying to figure out a way to kill myself and make it look like an accident so no one will think I’m rude and inconsiderate. Plus I can only handle so many worried looks and interventions.

So, I resolve to savor every bite. Food is not a curse or an inconvenience, it’s a blessing. And you pretty much die without it.

Which is why I also resolve to visit my local food bank at least once every month to donate bags of food – because some people go hungry… And that’s not cool.

I resolve to honor the amazing beauty in women, and even more I resolve to include myself in that list. I resolve to honor the Goddess.

I resolve to give myself a damn break once in a while.

I resolve to buy some damn clothes. Finally. Pretty ones.

I resolve to deal with my mail phobia. And maybe my male phobia.

I resolve to wear more lingerie – even if I don’t have someone in my life that wants to look at me in it, I’ll know it’s there underneath my clothes, and it will make me feel sassy. Maybe I’ll dance around my house in it.

I resolve to appreciate all the truly amazing people that I have in my life, that have loved me, stood by me, put up with my whining, screaming, crying and despair. To those of you that have the courage to still be standing next to me, the ruins of my life, and the madness of my sadness… thank you. I resolve to love you even more.

I resolve to find my way back to hope, to let go of whatever else I need to let go of to get to the next adventure. I resolve to trust the process again; to reclaim my faith.

I resolve to strut. Walking is for sissies.

I resolve to go with the flow…

So bring on the flow 2012, I’m counting on you. 2011 didn’t leave you much to work with, but I believe we can salvage something from the ruins of my Self, and build something smart and sexy… and freaky like I like it.

"Bring on the wonder, bring on the song." ~Susan Enan, Bring on the Wonder

1 Day, 11 hours and 10 minutes to go!

12/30/2011 12:53:00

So last night was rough. I went to some extra-scary dark creepy places in my head. Couldn’t sleep or do anything really but turn this crap over and over in my mind.

I am pretty convinced that I’m truly a pathetic loser for holding on so tightly to something that is hurting me. I have been so angry at the Universe, the gods, HIM – for not being in love with me. I was angry with him for still trying to maintain a casual, meaningless text relationship with me, even after I said we needed to “sever all communication” so that I could give “my heart a chance to let go.”

But the fact is: I haven’t let go. I’m holding on like crazy, so convinced that if I hold tight enough, love hard enough, it will somehow make a difference. He will show up, love me, want to be with me… and so on. I’ve realized that my feelings don’t matter. MY feelings have no bearing on what he will or won’t do. HIS feelings do. And if he had those kinds of feelings for me, I would know it: because he would have showed up by now to tell me.

So the question that stopped me dead in my tracks last night was this: “Self, you are still holding on so tightly. You won’t let go. Why? HOW DOES THIS SERVE YOU?” How does it serve me? Is it making me happy? Is it bringing me what I want? Is it bringing him back to me? No, no and no.

So, the year is ending, very soon, and it’s time I made a resolution – I don’t usually care for New Year’s resolutions because I’m not very good at really following through. But I know what I must do.

I have to let go. I have to release this. It doesn’t matter if it’s my ego or my heart that’s holding on so tightly, it’s hurting me, and it does not serve me, in any way.

Okay, so I’m still in love with him. He’s not in love with me. Maybe he never was; maybe he tolerated all the other stuff so he could get the sex and now that he doesn’t want sex from me there’s nothing left – there’s no reason for him to hang out with me, or have dinner with me because it’s not worth it to him. I want him to love me madly, but he doesn’t. He just fucking doesn’t.

So, maybe I’m not at a place where I can wish him happiness. I’m not. I want him to be miserable without me, but he’s probably happier. He can finally breathe again without worrying if he’s hurting me, or making me mad. So maybe I’m not ready to wish him well, but I have to set him free. I have to set myself free.

My next step can be wishing him well – for now, if I’m honest, I want him to suffer… to suffer even half as much as I have. I know this isn’t very evolved of me, but one step at a time.

For now, only this to him: you are free. I give up. I release it. I release it all. I will never beg for your love again. I shouldn’t have to.

“Let’s say I wish the worst for you.” ~Old 97’s, Wish the Worst

2 days, 11 hours and 13 minutes until this shitfest 2011 ends

12/29/2011 12:51:00

I’m pretty sure I’m having a nervous breakdown. My life is a joyless, faithless, hopeless pile of cat crap. I don’t have a cat, but I might as well get one, since I’m pretty sure I’m what they would call a “spinster” in the olden days. In modern times, I think it’s okay to be single, as long as you’re focused on your career. I also have no career. The only things I have are a sluggish metabolism and a drinking problem.

My crying jags are out of control. I can barely operate a car anymore because driving around is apparently some kind of catalyst for tears. Then again, walking around, laying around, showering, getting dressed, doing laundry, washing dishes, silence, loud noises, checking the mail or breathing oxygen also seem to be catalysts for tears.

I want to be who I was before I met him. Before I cared if I had a stupid-ass “relationship” or not. Back when I was really okay with being a drunk slut and could quietly judge the lonely singles and trapped marrieds. Before I was a damaged, paranoid lonely miserable fucking freak.

I swear, some SHIT has happened to me in my life. But that man… oh my god. He is absolutely, without a doubt, the worst thing that has ever happened to me.

Now, if I could just get over him. I could have my life back… couldn’t I?

But what if I’m ruined? What if I’m so damaged I can never love or trust ever again? I mean, I used to be pretty cool. Now, I’m a total nut job. And frankly, I’m the kind of woman that needs to overcompensate for my appearance with a “swell personality” – so where am I now? I’m angry, bitter, cynical, insecure, paranoid and jealous of everyone and everything. Literally, I’m jealous not just of pretty girls, but of dogs, and trees, and rocks. I’m jealous of the sky. Clearly, I’m crazy. And, I’m a man-hater. I hate them because they talk about how crazy women are – but HEY ASSHOLE! HOW THE FUCK DO YOU THINK WE GOT THIS WAY?

I used to just be a normal girl with low self-esteem and an eating disorder. Totally NOT crazy. Just American. But now, I’m a certifiable whack-a-do.

I’m heartsick, soul-sick and I miss the “good” him – I didn’t get too much of him, and I try to remember that whoever that guy was, he’s gone. He doesn’t see me anymore. I could stand in front of him, naked, or in my sexiest button-pushing lingerie, and he wouldn’t see me. I have become the Invisible Woman. And it hurts like a million knives of fire.

“I've broken both my legs falling for you.” ~Silverstein, Bleeds No More

Day: Oh Crap, it’s Christmas Eve.

12/24/2011 20:37:00

Well, here it is. The ever-so-festive Christmas Eve is upon me, and it’s even more horrible than I imagined it would be. I mean, I should be happy. I have these amazing friends, and I…

Well, all I can do is remember… how different my life was a year ago. Before things got so bad. Before I was told I’d have to move out of my house and the theatre so it could be demolished. Before I was horribly betrayed by someone I thought I could trust. Before things were bad between him and me. Well, I shouldn’t say that, there was always an element of the dysfunctional to our relationship, but it was about as good as could be expected between us.

What is it about Christmas that is so horribly lonely? I mean really. It’s just another day. But I really feel more empty, more lost, more alone than ever. And the really sad part is, the more I try to be around people, the lonelier I feel. I find myself almost grateful that I’ve been ill lately, because it gives me an excuse to hide from humanity.

I hate this. I hate this. I really feel like I cannot take another step.

I am so miserable. And wherever that jackass is, I hope he’s miserable too. Though I doubt he’s given me a second thought. I’m so fucking pathetic.

In another week, this shitty fucking year will end. Is there any chance next year will be any better? I don’t know that I can really afford to hope anymore. Hope = Disappointment.

DAY: 12 days until this crappy year is over

12/20/2011 02:30:00

So, I haven’t bothered to blog in a while. I mean, what’s the point? I have the same old tired shit to say, and no one reads it anyway. Not that I try to get anyone to read it, because I’m too embarrassed that I’m such a loser.

12 days left of 2011. I am seriously counting them down. I am physically ill, psychologically damaged, emotionally ruined and so exhausted that I can’t believe I’m not dead yet.

I’ve really been trying to just let it all go… you know, get past my ego, my pride and all that, and surrender to the Higher Purpose, the Plan, The Will of the Universe, God, who or whatever. But I’m having a really hard time with it. I’m having a hard time trusting.

I am faithless. I am without faith. I am devoid of hope. I keep thinking it can’t keep getting darker; sooner or later, some ray of light simply must sneak in – but it doesn’t.

It is darker and darker and darker and dark.

I would give anything to stop loving the man I hate so much.

“Still I wish there was something you would do or say, to try and make me change my mind and stay…” ~Bob Dylan

DAY: 23 MORE DAYS TIL THIS YEAR ENDS.

12/08/2011 16:40:00

Counting down the days, until Christmas is over, until the year is over, until my life is over…

I just count the days. I wake up and think, “If I survive today, I get to go back to bed.” That gets me through every single day.

Eventually, I will have survived Christmas.

Eventually, I will have survived New Year’s Eve.

Eventually, I will have survived 2011, one of the worst years of my life.

Unless of course I die before then, but that’s not likely to happen, now is it?

This might sound like I’m tempting Fate, but I’m not. I know I have 43 years to go before I die.

So if I survive 2011, I only have 42 years to go. I’m almost halfway to the end.

Eventually, I will have survived it all, until I finally don’t have to survive any more.

“And miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep.” ~Robert Frost

Occupy the Public Hearing! A Fairy Tale

12/05/2011 21:18:00

Today, we occupied the public hearing where plans to demolish our theatre (and my house) were discussed. The Big Bad Real Estate Developer Wolf was present with his pack of drooling cubs, Grannyma was present and as feisty as you want her to be, Little Red Riding Hood innocently stated her case to a cold and unforgiving room, and though all seemed lost… the heroic Woodsman did in fact, make an appearance as well.

I have transcribed the event as it occurred, to the best of my memory. The entire event was filmed, so anything that I may be recalling incorrectly can be verified, and/or corrected.

The cast of characters:

M: The Mediator, aka The Shill for Corporate Greed

BBW: In this case, not a big beautiful woman, but The Big Bad Real Estate Developer Wolf

A: Architect LR: Little Red Riding Hood – me!

G: Grannyma, representing Cheviot Hills neighborhood

CM: A councilman’s representative

WM: The Woodsman, representing Motor Ave

V: Various Villagers

The scene: West LA Municipal Building, or You Can’t See the Forest for the Greed

M: We are here to discuss the proposed project at 3425 Motor Ave. We don’t really care what anybody says, cause really, Mr. BBW can do whatever he wants cause he’s a rich white guy. We don’t give a crap about commercial interests, unless they are the commercial interests of a rich white guy. Small businesses can suck it.

BBW: We want to build a big huge stupid thing. Here is a shiny picture of it. Blah blah blah infrastructure. Blah blah blah no environmental impact. Blah blah blah, it’s great, and won’t cause any problems because it’s totally awesome.

A: Um, did you see the picture? It has a courtyard and a café. I’ll stand in front of it while I talk, but trust me it’s awesome.

G: This isn’t awesome. It sucks. No one was informed. It will cause traffic problems. It will cause parking problems.

CM: Mr. Councilman also thinks it sucks. We are opposed.

M: Wait… did you say OPPOSED?

CM: Yes, opposed. Your idea is stupid.

WM: We know you’re going to do what you’re going to do anyway, and we don’t like it, but can you at least build something less stupid?

LR: We know you’re going to do what you want anyway, and we knew that someday we would have to leave, but just know what you’re doing. You want to talk about what you’re building, but I want to point out what you’re tearing down. You are tearing down affordable housing for me, and people like me. You are tearing down affordable work space for both of my companies. You are tearing down the education and enrichment of children, and of artists. You are tearing down history. You are tearing down art. You are tearing down culture. And we realize you don’t care, but we do.

Then, the room erupted in a slow clap which turned into a pep rally…. (slightly editorialized)

BBW: To address the concerns presented today... None of you had any “expert opinions” but we had an expert “traffic consultant” that we hired and paid and he said there wouldn’t be any problems. And there won’t be any parking problems, and did we mention this place is awesome? And there won’t be any problems.

GM: I will hire my own “traffic consultant”

M: Go for it bitch.

GM: I will.

BBW: By the way I live in Pacific Palisades in a big shiny rich white man house and traffic is bad there too. So there. But the efficiency apartments we are building will be totally affordable for the poor losers that we are displacing from their groovy bungalow style apartments.

V: We are being bullied out, and they don’t want to pay us relocation fees, and we’ve lived here 13 years.

M: So, in summation, no one who lives or works in this community wants this project, but rich white men who don’t live or work in this community want it, so it’s going to happen. The end.

Or is it?

We understand that big business can tear down buildings, and build more crap, because they have “the right” to do it. And that small business has “no rights” because we will always have to rent buildings from big business.

We spoke our minds, for whatever it’s worth, and they can build more and more crap until there is nothing left, no resources at all. But we are storytellers. And we will never run out of stories. Never.

And for the record, the Woodsman approached Little Red Riding Hood and gave her his card with his cell phone number on it, and said, “If this goes through, call me, because we want you here. We want theatre on Motor Ave.”

So, Mr. Wolf, in case you don’t remember how the story ends, the wolf does devour Grannyma and Little Red, but the Woodsman cuts him open, and they jump out unharmed, and they tell their story.

Days 7 and 8: I hate weekends. And also weekdays.

12/04/2011 11:19:00

Well yesterday marked one week since my dramatic un-friending on FB of my dumb-ass ex. Fortunately, my day was so insanely full that I had little time for foolish things like heartbreak blogging. I still managed to cry a lot though, don’t get me wrong.

Last night (or early this morning really) was another veil of tears. I am so tired of waking up with my eyes so swollen I can barely see, surrounded by wadded up pieces of snotty toilet paper, unable to breathe, to move, to sleep, so horribly alone that I want to tear my skin off. Now, I’m used to being alone. Heck, I even used to really like it. But this is a different kind of alone, much more sinister. I’ve got my friends. I’ve got some really great friends, but I’ve hit a point where I’m afraid to even try to express the anguish I’m in to anyone, because it’s getting downright pathetic. My kind of misery is unbearable to watch, and frankly, it’s getting old. I tell myself that if I can just keep faking my life a little longer, someday I will feel something again besides anguish. Or I will have become so good at faking it that I will even have myself fooled.

I used to look forward to the weekends – especially when we have a show running. I could perform, play with my friends after, and back in the day… maybe he would be there. Maybe we would fall into bed together at the end of another crazy night. Even when there was no show, there were those times, back when he used to like being with me, when we would have… So. Much. Fucking. Fun. But that was a long time ago. And for so many months, when it was really bad between us, and then over, but we still had contact, at least I could carry this silly hope around that one day, it would be good again. One day, he’d be back, looking at me like he used to look at me.

Now, there is no hope. He will not come walking up. He will not call. He will not text or email. He won’t push the ‘like’ button on my status. Because WE ARE NOT FRIENDS. We are nothing. He will stay away, because I asked him to stay away. He will leave me alone, because that is what I asked of him. It wasn’t what I wanted, but I had no choice.

This kind of alone is terrifying, because I fear it will last forever – Because I will never be able to trust again. Not just men, that’s a given that they are impossible to trust, but worse, I will never be able to trust myself; never be able to trust my own feelings. I had myself fooled. I thought I had found something spectacular. I was wrong. I used to think the pain love puts you in was worth it, but I don’t think that anymore. It is not worth it. If I could take back my love from him, I would. He doesn’t want it anyway. He would rather be alone.

“The person who tries to live alone will not succeed as a human being. His heart withers if it does not answer another heart. His mind shrinks away if he hears only the echoes of his own thoughts and finds no other inspiration.” ~ Pearl S. Buck

Day 6: Is it over yet? The day I mean.

12/02/2011 18:02:00

Too busy to blog today. Still managed to cry a lot. In the car where no one can see me, and it's the only time I got to do that.

I have more resentment than I know what to do with. I am really, really bitter, and I don't like the way it feels.

Is it over yet? This relationship, I mean. Why does it take so long to be over when it's already been over so long?

It feels like a dream... that what's been over for him for so long will someday, finally be over for me.

"Hey now, hey now, don't dream it's over." ~Crowded House

Day 5: Moving on. Just kidding. But it’s a nice thought.

12/01/2011 10:19:00

All I can write for today is this: I want my heart to let go. I want my heart to let go. I want my heart to let go.

“You will never love me, and this I can’t forgive.” ~Jill Sobule, Mexican Wrestler