Wednesday morning. Early December. Time to do the Holiday decorations. Hopefully I’ll get to it today.

In a weird headspace the last week or so. I’ve been doing a lot of exposure therapy in the form of documentaries focusing on survivors of sex crimes. I specifically focused on Epstein and R. Kelly, which was pretty intense. That means I literally sat down at 9am last Thursday and proceeded to watch all 15 hours of the Surviving R. Kelly series. Yeah. It was a lot. Let’s just say I’m very glad he’s in jail forever. Don’t ever let him out. Ever.

The important thing was listening to the stories of the survivors. This made me feel less alone in some of the things I went through when I was younger. It’s like, “Okay, that part of the movie is over now. These creeps and weirdos can’t hurt you anymore.” Like, they’re not even characters on the Island anymore. Most of them are just… fading away into the background. Except… for one. Well, aside from Andrew that is. Andrew is apparently just a permanent fixture now. Whatever. I guess that means I really did make him myself and he’s not actually based on anybody. That probably explains why he’s so weird and why every single person who reads my blog says they don’t understand him. I clearly generated him completely from my own mind. Clearly.

So I was trying not to think about him, as per usual, and I stumbled upon a completely different idea while in the shower. This idea was actually based on my time in college. Sort of? Many, many changes have been made, but the original inspiration can be traced to a certain time of my life. Anyway, the point is, I came up with a new idea! Voila! All of a sudden, it was there, on the page: the character list, the plot points all fully laid out according to proper screenplay structure, and the triangle of conflict at play between the main characters. It was actually quite brilliant. I’m quite proud of myself. I mean, not because of the idea, but because the idea came out on the page in a very neat, organized, professional manner. That means all the classes I took at the Paris Writing Workshop and online during the pandemic were 100% worth it! I learned something! And now… now I can have fun finally writing a real screenplay without worrying about whether or not it makes sense because I already have it all planned out. And the best part is, it’s not about Andrew! Yay!

Yes, it’s true, it turns out I am indeed a Plotter, not a Pantser. I prefer to have everything neatly planned out in advance so I can keep the train from the going off the track. That is probably why I care so little for all of the projects I spat out between 2012-2018. It’s basically either very intense-but-cathartic emotional purging, or it’s random, disjointed, fragmented crap that doesn’t really make sense. Insert innuendos about pants and Bloody Mary’s here. I don’t have time to make all the jokes about the owner’s pants as I could, but we all know they’re there. Anyway, my attempt to write a memoir on this blog is clearly proof that I do have CPTSD because it shows how fragmented and disorganized my own memories were for a long time. Now they’re out on the page, I’ve made some attempt to put them in order, and I’m currently spending a lot of time learning to understand where the connections between said memories were broken and how to repair them. Now I’m sitting here looking at it like, “Oh, yeah, this is definitely an attempt to heal myself and it’s actually working well enough that my ability to create, plan, and write a real story is coming back to me. This is the most exciting thing that has happened in a long time. I’m going to be okay!”

Anyway, back to the owner’s pants. No, I’m just kidding. I can’t make those jokes anymore. There’s a new one now. Hopefully they’re just as ridiculous as the last six were. Gotta join that Celebrity Hall of Fame. There’s nothing quite like it, lol. But seriously, this story is definitely over for me. It is interesting to look at though from a screenwriting standard. The spirit is there. It’s just not very well executed. That’s fine. I think of that project like playing in a sand box. Here are some random action figures and dolls, a bucket and a pail, and a box of seashells I just collected from the shoreline. Go crazy. Have fun. Build whatever you want and then tear it all down again. Write, draw, make shapes, build castles, wait for the tide to come in and wash it all away, then start all over again. Perfect metaphor, right? Right. I agree. Loves it, grateful for it, so happy I don’t feel like I wasted all of my time, but now that part is over for me. It’s time to go build a castle for real…

Speaking of building castles for real, I am currently She-Hulk Smashing my way through my workplace anxiety. Really working hard to do the necessary reframing of my attitude and beliefs. It really helps that I am not going back to the service industry ever again. I am going remote. I have taken so many classes. I have the skills and experience. I am ready. I am confident. I can totally achieve this goal. I can contribute something positive and constructive to society. I do not have to suffer in a toxic workplace because not all workplaces are toxic! Some are pretty great! Some people are good. Not all people are bad. I just live in a place where it happens to mostly skew bad for whatever reason that clearly has nothing to do with me as a person. Think positive thoughts!

Overall, I would say I’m heading in a positive direction right now. Things are going as well as they can. My focus on being healthy is paying off. I’m starting to write again. I’m feeling inspired again. I’m rebuilding my self-confidence after it took a pretty heavy hit. I’m positive about my job hunt. I can cook. My apartment is clean. Things are getting back on track. As long as I don’t go to the bars, things are back on track. Key words… as long as I don’t go to the bars… ugh. Hate that aspect of myself. I really do. So many nights I’m just sitting there like, “What have I become? This is the worst.” Definitely hate that. Working on it though. It’s so not worth it.

Time to go on with my day now. Thank you again to everyone out there reading who is actively supporting me on my journey and rooting for me. It’d be great if I could hear back from you more often. I feel like I’m talking into a void and the only response I ever get back is some asshole coming out of the woodwork to berate me. Welcome to the internet, I guess. It is what it is. Anyway, thanks again. It’s been tough, but knowing that I have people who want to read my writing makes me feel better about my life, even when I’m messy and drinking at the bar.

Have a lovely day, y’all!