“Getting My Life Together”

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I currently find myself in a transitional period, the likes of which I’ve never seen before.

I’m out of debt, I have an agent that I’m hoping will score me some sweet auditions (nothing yet), and I’m acquiring income by piecing together any freelance opportunities that come my way.

I’m staying afloat, paying my own way, and not starving for my art.

YET.

For those that know me in person, or have been reading this blog from the very beginning, you may be asking yourselves how I’m managing to live this new lifestyle while keeping depression and my anxiety disorder at bay.

The short answer is: I’m not.

I’m not.

That’s the honest truth.

I’m terrified, and I’m worried, and I’m anxious, and not an hour goes by each day when the ticker tape in my head doesn’t stream:

I NEED TO GET MY LIFE TOGETHER. 

In fact, whenever someone asks me how I’m doing or what I’m doing or where I am in my journey, my response is always, “I’m getting my life together.”

That single phrase both kills my confidence and my motivation in one foul swoop. It makes me feel guilty for not having full-time guaranteed income, makes me feel impotent (not in the sexual definition–the other one–google it, you dirty minded person) for not being able to control my career path, and just generally drives me insane because it implies that I AM NOT DOING ANYTHING.

[The shouty capitals are off the chain in this post because that’s what my subconscious is doing 24/7–it’s yelling at me. Sorry for taking it out on you, but misery loves company.]

But then, I stop and think about what it is that I am doing and I try to cut myself some slack:

  • I’m showering almost regularly (don’t judge!)
  • I’m accepting the work that’s being offered to me without thinking that I’m “taking a step back” by nannying or doing cashier work or menial assistant tasks
  • I’m really trying to meet up with friends more now that my schedule is flexible (which is hard when income is tight)
  • I’m not spending all day in bed depressed…at least not every day There have been quite a few in the past months where everything hurts and life sucks and I just need to try and sleep it off.

Other than that, I’m reminding myself to breathe.

And really utilizing the emotional support systems that I have because, MAN, this is tough. I’ve been talked off the ledge more times than I can count by my closest friends (who happen to be thousands of miles away).

I’m shaking while writing this because this is a “no income week” so far and I’m wondering if anything will pop up.

I’m looking ahead to March and my 30th birthday and wondering what I have to show for the three decades I’ve been circling around the sun.

I am not in a happy place, or even a good place for that matter (The Good Place on NBC is a great show that’s been helping me get by, just gonna plug that. 1st season on Netflix, 2nd season happening now).

It’s hard to be creative and to write when survival is looming over your head and you feel selfish for pursuing these astronomical goals and not abandoning them for stable work.

It’s lonely being a spinster sometimes, and modern dating makes it even harder to find and form an emotional/romantic connection with someone without the threat of being “ghosted” or ending up in a dead end relationship.

Things suck right now. Yes, they could always be worse, but HOLY CRAP, you guys!

But I’m always open and honest when I write on these pages, so there you have it. Things are ugly right now. But I know that once you’ve hit the bottom, you can only go up. And I’m thankful that my “bottom” hasn’t found me starving and homeless.

YET.

I wanted to end this post on a high note, but that would feel really disingenuous.

So here’s a pretty picture of the sunset that I took at The Grove last night.

Just because.

 

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Harry Potter and the Harassment on the Underground

I’ve been on radio silence for the last few months as my life has been completely devoured by my new-ish job as a Hollywood personal assistant (still love it, though). England is everything I had hoped it would be, my … Continue reading

The KKK is Marching in NC and You Don’t Even Know That It’s Partially YOUR Fault

To stay up-do-date on all of Short and Feisty’s posts, click the Follow this blog button at the top right of this page.

I keep trying to turn my blog back around–to be happy and cheerful and funny (at least to my own personal standard of funny, your mileage may vary)–but I’m just not there yet. It’s sad to think that this country elected a man that supports and espouses so much hate. That some people can just roll their eyes and be like, “He’s not REEEAALLLY going to be awful, he’s just not PC. He’s actually going to be miles better than Hillary because I hate Hillary and BENGHAZI and EMAILS! I love you, though, but I’m gonna go ahead with the go ahead and vote him in.”

What’s even sadder to see is all of the various hate groups crawling out of the rotten woodwork to do things like hold “Victory Marches” in places like North Carolina.

I posted that link to my social media last night with the caption:

“Grab your hoods, y’all. Your dude won.”

I almost immediately got a response from someone in my acquaintance that voted for Trump. She stated that she was “angry at those comments.” Being the naive little optimist that I am, I thought she was angry that the KKK were marching, that one of the most despicable, hurtful, violent groups in the history of this country is experiencing a furiously growing resurgence.

But no.

She was mad at my caption, said my caption was racist, and said that comments like my caption are what’s tearing America apart because she’s not bad like one of “those people that always brings race into things.”

Oh. LAWD.

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Photo Cred| imgflip.com

So here is my response to this woman (who, anecdotally, is white), and who will remain anonymous here for privacy reasons:

Dear Mrs. X,

I’ve had the privilege of knowing you for almost my entire life. Your sister was an excellent 5th grade teacher and I have many happy childhood memories with your daughter.

But here’s the thing: Your vote did this.

Whether you realize it or not, whether you like it or not, your vote put this man in the highest political position of this Great Nation and, by doing so, you gave everyone license to hate out in the open again.

“Hello pre-Civil Right’s Movement–welcome back!”

And what I don’t think you realized about my caption is that it’s nuanced (I’ll shoulder some of the blame if it wasn’t obvious). I know you’re not a card carrying member of the KKK–remember, I have been the recipient of you’re smile and your joyful greetings. The fact of the matter is you are complicit.

You KNOWINGLY voted for a man that not only accepted, but appreciated the endorsement of not only the the Ku Klux Klan, but also the American Nazi Party. Speaking of the Nazis, do you know what the worst part about Nazi Germany and the murder of over 6,000,000 people was? That their neighbors let it happen by remaining silent.

That their neighbors remained SILENT. Let that sink in, because you didn’t just remain silent, here. You spoke up with your vote and actively put this man in power.

Now, you may think my caption is racist (though, it does not ONCE mention the race of his supporters, you’re assuming I’m only addressing white people), and you may bemoan the fact that “those people are always bringing race into this”. But do you know what the KKK is? THEIR HATE IS ENTIRELY BASED ON RACE AND RELIGION. The color of my skin is SO distasteful to them that they are actively trying to disenfranchise me and millions of others. The fact that certain people don’t recognize Jesus as the Messiah sends them into a tailspin. And GOD HELP THEM if they have to sit next to “a gay” at the Golden Corral.

I never thought I would bear first hand witness of the KKK in 2016. I thought all that junk was something my mother, and uncles, and aunts, and grandparents suffered through in the past. That they fought long and hard so I wouldn’t have to live in a country where people like that are handed a microphone and spoon-fed government support. But now, this reality is my present.

Your vote did this.

But you don’t see it that way.

And therein lies the problem. And that’s the reason for this letter: I took a step back and realized that you simply didn’t know. There are those that did and happily checked that box for Trump. But you didn’t, and I know because I know YOU.

You don’t see that your vote means we will most likely be adding bigoted voices to the Supreme Court who will be hell bent on stripping people of their basic American rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

You don’t see that you had any responsibility in causing the country’s Jewish population, Muslim population, hispanic population, disabled population, black population, it’s myriad of rape victims, etc to begin a new life living in fear. You don’t see that by saying “yes” to Trump, you were saying “do your thing!” to all of these terrorist groups bent on hating other Americans, some of whom you may even have in your own friend group.

 

It’d be easy for me to say I’m not afraid because I don’t live in NC–I don’t live in VA or The South anymore, so I’m not near it. But you know my nephews and nieces. You see them almost every day during the school year. And I’m afraid for them–there’s no hiding that beautiful brown skin AND THEY SHOULDN’T have to. I fear for the children that bear witness to all of these heinous actions and are scared out of their minds. Children that are already being bullied in school.

Hell, my college campus is 30 minutes from you in Southern VA and minority students there are already being bullied:

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So maybe your privilege allows you to live in a little bubble of being “color blind”–race is never “the issue”. I can attest to the fact that my elementary school, where you work, is just like that–its own little Utopia. But outside of that, others are forced to see the full spectrum of color.

And I don’t think that’s a bad thing!

And I know that makes you uncomfortable to even think about–that you had a hand in this nonsensical hate.

And it should.

Maybe it’ll give you an inkling of the discomfort that all of the other Americans being targeted, not because they’ve behaved egregiously, but simply because of being WHO THEY ARE, are feeling.

There’s no undoing the election now, it’s done.

But I’m glad I’ve sown this seed into your conscience.

Now, I just need you to think about what I’m saying. Listen to what others are saying about what’s happening in our lives NOW. Maybe, if you truly listen, you’ll learn. And my most ardent hope is that maybe, just maybe, what I’m saying in this letter will inform your decisions in the future.

Luke 23:34,

Short and Feisty

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Photo Credit | The Daily Show

How Does it Feel?

How does it feel to know that you’re their target demographic?

How does it feel to know that your neighbor doesn’t secretly hate you because of the color of your skin? Because of your heritage? Because of your religion?

How does it feel to know that, even with the shift in power to someone who espouses hateful and vitriolic rhetoric, you’re going to be ok? Your life will go unchanged–you’re safe. You’re part of the fold. Because you’re one of them?

How does it feel to know the American Nazi Party and the KKK isn’t bothered by your presence among these amber waves of grain? That they won’t forcefully attempt to disenfranchise you over the next four years because you weren’t born heavy with melanin and you were raised worshipping one particular Nazarean?

To know that you won’t be mocked because you weren’t born physically different or not as able bodied as them?

How does it feel to NOT feel unwelcome in the country you’ve called home your entire life? That your grandparents, great-grandparents, etc called their land, as well?

To feel your marriage rights are not on the line? To feel your safety isn’t threatened by people who want to do you harm simply because of who you are?

I’d really like to know.

Because right now, all I feel is sad. And sick. But mostly sad.

Yet hopeful that the phrase “We never thought it could happen in America” isn’t something that you’ll be uttering within the next 4 years.

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Photo Credit| ShortandFeisty

A Conversation in the Key of #Depression

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Get up.”

“No.”

“You’re being depressing.”

“Probably because I’m depressed.”

(Beat)

“Do you plan on leaving your bed today?”

“No. No plans. Except when the exterminator gets here. Because he’s apparently forcing me to leave on account of spraying toxic chemicals.”

“Freaking tiny, endlessly annoying, quickly multiplying, nameless beetles.”

(Beat)

“How about a shower?”

“No.”

“You’re kinda smelly.”

“So?”

::huffs in exasperation::

“You know, you won’t get anywhere career-wise if you’re set on remaining facedown in your pillow.”

“I’m not getting anywhere career-wise when I put in the effort, anyway, and this position is much more comfortable.”

(Beat)

“Aren’t you hungry?”

“No.”

“You haven’t eaten all day.”

“Probably because I’ve expended no energy lying here; therefor, I have no appetite.”

“Sound reasoning, albeit flawed logic.”

(Beat)

“Don’t you think it’s been enough time? It’s been months…”

“It still hurts.”

“What hurts?”

“Everything. Everything hurts. My whole life hurts.”

(Beat)

“Still holding back those tears?”

“Yup. Too proud to let them go.”

“Patricia told you that you’d feel better if you just had a good cry.”

“Can’t. I’ve made it this far. I’m already committed to being obstinate. Plus, you’ll probably beat me up about it if I do.”

“No, I won’t. I promise.”

“Right.”

(Beat)

“Hows about some Netflix?”

Good idea, but that isn’t going to get me out of bed, I’ll just watch it on my phone.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“I know.”

(Beat)

“This is an unforeseen turn of events…are you going to stop pestering me about getting up?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“DID I STUTTER?!”

(Beat)

“Why are you relenting now?”

“Because…”

“Yeeeessss?”

“Because I’m very understanding, and gentle, and kind to other people experiencing depression. Why wouldn’t I be just as understanding, gentle, and kind to myself?”

(Beat)

“Maybe we’ll get up tomorrow.”

“Maybe.”

“Let’s think about ordering pizza.”

“Good idea…I love you, you know…even when you annoy me–errr…us.”

“I know…let’s get some Murder, She Wrote up in this piece.”

 

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