A Week of Healing ...

I stay busy, not intentionally to not process my own feelings but that is an unfortunate side effect of “doing.” And I do the initial processing. The triage. After bandaged, and sufficiently stabilized, I send them to the emotions specialists (I know I’m not the only one who imagines the mind as this department of departments.) It’s just often there’s a backlog.

And, in the before times Eddie and I were better, it seems, about taking vacations. The first few days are always about processing emotions and health for me. When I stop for a bit, the adrenaline/cortisol stops and that usually means my body and mind can do a deep repair. Process any illnesses that may need to be taken care of. And emotions. 

So, in taking this week off (from the shop. My other life doesn’t have off days, really) I started processing last week at work. Doing some of the emotional legwork so I could go into this week … braced, so to speak. There was a journal entry/blog post about why I work so hard and feel so driven (financial stability and also, bottom surgery). And in realizing how I’ve spread my dreams underneath so many feet, while wishing for the clothes of heaven, the idea of making The Waltz and/or The Decision are tied to being able to complete another step in my journey of transitioning (because medical care in this state is really a joke, and it’s why elections matter but we’re held hostage by fuckheads, and that’s a different conversation). 

One thing that’s emerged from this year is grief. Loss. The death of three family members within my circle. The loss of grants, fellowships, opportunities, auditions, and film finance forums. There had been a bit of processing, in some meditation weekends, but not in the same form of reflection as one approaches one’s solar return. 

So, it’s a bit of a maudlin week for me. As I go deeper into processing grief of all kinds. Including the continued loss of me. Or former me. 

Sunday, I had to portray a particularly difficult and emotional case, and without fail I thought of my dreams, of not just making a feature film but finding some sort of financial stability and being able to afford bottom surgery - and imagine the probability I may not find financing. These films may not get made, with the markers that I’ve deemed as success (being able to pay my crew a wage at least enough to make sure a daily rate can pay their bills). That, what feels like the perfect cast, something may happen and it may not get made. For both projects. I’ve found a dream cast for both, and I want to capture their beautiful performances on film lest something happen to any of us. 

Suffice it to say, all of those emotions and thoughts swirling around led me to tears without fail each and every time. I thought I would have been all cried out, but even now when I think about it I’m still emotional. 

And part of what fuels that emotion is not knowing. Just not knowing the next steps. Not trusting. Previous burns with The Decision and industry promises made leave me … nervous. Leading with emotion in what should be a better business decision. But also feeling that, for either project, it’s probably not gonna get done unless I do the bulk of the work myself (which probably isnt true but then leads to one of my deepest insecurities in asking for help, or even deeper not knowing what I’m asking for help and really being unable to verbalize my needs which frustrates me and then leads to me just wanting to do it myself versus trying to struggle with communication. First hand, Eddie saw this during our Summer of Discontent when we were trying to talk/argue/whatever and I literally cannot communicate or verbalize what I’m feeling or thinking at high emotions. And therapy helped a lot in coming further but I always wonder - am I communicating effectively? Am I being understood? At times it feels asymptotic, where what I am thinking or feeling is there in my mind, and as I’m talking it's almost there but never really quite there. That’s my perfectionism seeping in, though.

Anyways, the next phase of self-care and healing involves cleaning. The physical action of sweeping and clearing out. One of my usual first steps in self-care and mental health.  This week will also involve cooking. Chili one day and the next a southern Sunday dinner (dressing, mac and cheese, greens, baked chicken, lady peas if I can find any although it’s rather late in the season). It’ll be cold out this week for an outdoor bath, but I cleansed my spirit over the weekend in a video I’m sure you’ve seen by this point. I need to wash my hair, and there are a few other self care rituals I do. 

This is a week about embracing, healing. Never mind it comes as we begin to transition to Scorpio season, or that there’s a partial eclipse in the astrological forecast. Looking for signs and meanings. Apophenia. 

Anyways. It’s a lovely crisp fall day. 

Oh wow. A memory I locked away surfaced, about the 20th anniversary of me coming out. It was incredibly traumatic. My parent’s didn’t reject me (they actually only loved me harder and let me know in no uncertain terms) but it was traumatic nonetheless. And involved one of the coldest breakups I’ve ever done. I … that level of coldness actually frightened me … Actually a lot of feelings are coming up now. It’s gonna be a day …