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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.
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.
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.
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.