My life has changed dramatically over the past 5 months. It has gone from absolute mania to silent whispers. Now my life is only filled with whispers of desires instead of the typical cacophony of debilitating sounds that caused my mind to burst open. In plain english, my life has become normal and repetitive. Mind you this is refreshing and peaceful yet at times very uninteresting. Maybe all this normality is because my life is actually on track. Maybe it is because I finally feel like I can move freely in my own skin. I don't know what it is but all I can say is how odd, disconcerting, and astounding it is to see your own life change as quickly as a revolving door in fancy smancy hotel. One moment you are there and the next you are somewhere, nowhere to be seen. The revolving door can be an optical illusion for some people but for me it is just a sign of hope; Things are much better and will only continue to get better.
By no means am I saying that my life is as perfect as a peach because truly I am just as much ridden with hardships as I ever have been. And as I enjoy Rusko, dubstep extradionare and a reminder of my past troubles with alcohol and drugs, I think about how I have come too far to turn back now.
I watched Jersey Shore, the season where they are based in Italy, and all I could see on the Tv was myself. I saw myself falling down stairs drunk, vying for someone's attention and love despite their disgust, lying about the things I had done and all together just being an immature fool. I am of course not fully cleared of all my hiccups but I have to say that I am definitely past where those 23-30 year old Jersey kids are. Thank God for that.
And now I am here, trying to do things different, trying to follow my dream. I am changing the "maybes," into "I will!" This whole growing up and leaving NeverLand feeling has got me twisted with happiness. Though I still have a long way to go it is nice to have stopped fighting against myself to be something and someone I'm not. Now I am fighting alongside everything this big ball of magma spews at me: the good, the bad, the ugly.
Bring it on.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Friday, July 15, 2011
Word of The Day: ACCEPTANCE
Therapy day is always a good day. It is the day where everything becomes illuminated. Some therapy days you shed tears, you yell out in anger, you curse profusely, you even might realize that you are in the wrong, but overall it is good because you are growing.
And today was therapy day.
To reflect back on this morning's session I will pretend that I am teaching a particular word of the day to some youngins, like on Sesame Street.
The word of the day is ACCEPTANCE.
Acceptance of one's self, others, the things that go right and the things that go wrong.
(broad spectrum... I know)
I talk a lot about how I want to accept the fact that I might not get into USC's screenwriting program or how I might not get into any colleges at all. But, I then tell myself how I will actually keep following my passion no matter what.
Talk can be cheaper than food at Taco Bell.
I say a lot of things but my actions sometimes fail to follow through.
If perhaps you don't accept that you didn't get into any colleges you might let your life spiral downward into a slump of horse dung with flies and no return.
I don't want that to be me. I won't let that be me.
If someone thinks you're not good enough you have to accept their opinion for what it is, throw it out into the trash and not let it define you.
See, once again I can tell you how to live, but can I show you?
I guess only time will tell if I can accept what fate is to bring.
If you can't get where you want to be... find an alternative route.
And today was therapy day.
To reflect back on this morning's session I will pretend that I am teaching a particular word of the day to some youngins, like on Sesame Street.
The word of the day is ACCEPTANCE.
Acceptance of one's self, others, the things that go right and the things that go wrong.
(broad spectrum... I know)
I talk a lot about how I want to accept the fact that I might not get into USC's screenwriting program or how I might not get into any colleges at all. But, I then tell myself how I will actually keep following my passion no matter what.
Talk can be cheaper than food at Taco Bell.
I say a lot of things but my actions sometimes fail to follow through.
If perhaps you don't accept that you didn't get into any colleges you might let your life spiral downward into a slump of horse dung with flies and no return.
I don't want that to be me. I won't let that be me.
If someone thinks you're not good enough you have to accept their opinion for what it is, throw it out into the trash and not let it define you.
See, once again I can tell you how to live, but can I show you?
I guess only time will tell if I can accept what fate is to bring.
If you can't get where you want to be... find an alternative route.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
A short thought
My bouncer friend from work, Kingman, gave me some advice tonight and well, I think I shall share it.
Simply, guys will go out of their way for the things they love. If they aren't putting in the effort and time then they don't love you.
Secondly, if you don't fuck them then it is harder for them to fuck you over.
Thirdly, he said,"It is just not your time right now but it is okay, focus on the people who do love you."
Beneath his bulky seemingly bulletproof exterior there is a gooey guy under there who understands.
I guess I am just tired of guys leaving me once they get a piece of me (yes, that's the honest truth in all its horrid glory). Always discontinuity. I am tired of no effort on their part but Kingman is right. It is not my time. And I am not going to waste any more of my time wishing or hoping for people to love me like they should when I know they will not and do not.
I've said my peace.
The end.
Simply, guys will go out of their way for the things they love. If they aren't putting in the effort and time then they don't love you.
Secondly, if you don't fuck them then it is harder for them to fuck you over.
Thirdly, he said,"It is just not your time right now but it is okay, focus on the people who do love you."
Beneath his bulky seemingly bulletproof exterior there is a gooey guy under there who understands.
I guess I am just tired of guys leaving me once they get a piece of me (yes, that's the honest truth in all its horrid glory). Always discontinuity. I am tired of no effort on their part but Kingman is right. It is not my time. And I am not going to waste any more of my time wishing or hoping for people to love me like they should when I know they will not and do not.
I've said my peace.
The end.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Where the depressed things are.
Here it is. The faithful truth. I'll pretend like a million eyes are reading this and feeling some connection through their broadband internet ( as if anybody still uses broadband... that shit is too slow).
I get down. I get depressed. I am not happy go lucky all the time, probably not even half of the time. Recently I have been on a happy streak. But today was a huge blunder. I mean, a total shipwreck. I know... devote a whole horrible fucking day to a blog post... pathetic right? Maybe but it brought up a lot of issues that I am currently dealing with and care to write about. Yes, writing is my therapy.
As I said before, I get depressed. I actually have depression and anxiety and take multiple medications for it, so most of the time the pills are working but that's only half the cigar, the other half is me and what I put into it. Today I gave nothing. I gave into my depression. I know some people who are literally radiant, happy, jovial leprechauns 24/7 (or so it seems like) and explaining depression to them is like trying to explain that there's no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow... It just doesn't work that way. My depression is my demon, almost like something inside of me that takes over if I let it. There are things I do, and say, and think which make no sense to me when I look back on them. This is my depression. Even if you are reading this now it won't make sense because how do you explain to someone that you live a perfect life and that you sometimes have glitches in your brain where you feel like you don't ever want to wake up again. Depression doesn't make sense. Though you can usually always get to the bottom of why you're depressed.
So why, today, was I depressed?
1. No matter how you spin it, no matter how you say it, you're always going to get the same answer.
This guy I have been talking to compliments me and is sweet to me like cherry pie and I just don't get it. In this situation I think it is me because by the way he is acting I expect him to like me or want to date me or something but after many ways of asking him he still doesn't like me. Yet, he always tells me that soon a guy will not be intimidated by me and will soon ask me out or whatever. He's a sweetheart. Just, why can't it be him? Or better yet why can't I just accept that we can be friends only ( just cut down on the compliments ). First non-douchebag I have liked in a while.. can you blame me for wanting to hold on to him?
2.I want to make everyone happy. I don't want to disappoint.
I called in sick to work today. I haven't been feeling well for a while now and I don't know what is wrong with me but none the less I didn't feel well. I jumped into a full fledged routine of tears and shaking because my manager was upset with me and I knew that I was letting my coworkers down. It is a hostess job. See.. I am looking back now and saying OMG what a goon I am that was so not important.. you should've gotten over it... but I didn't. None the less the compulsion sometimes gets the best of me though I did break the mold this past week by wearing my huge nerdy specs to work. Why does this matter? I thought to myself.. guys won't think I am cute.. Derby hostesses have to be cute... and then I said FUCK IT and I wore my nerdy specs and all. (<--Maybe that has more to do with my self confidence.. oh well)
3.I don't understand why I am so unhappy when there is nothing to be unhappy about.
I have a prime example of someone who is happy, enjoying every day of her life though her life is plagued with tragedy. My best friend's mom was at first, I believe 4 or 5 years ago, diagnosed with GBM, a severe brain cancer and has now within the past week been diagnosed with some type of blood cancer. A tumor broke her hip and that is what sent her into the hospital this last week. She was happy with the news that the tumor the most treatable form of blood cancer. When I heard this it really shocked me. How can you be grateful that it is cancer again. I would be fucking pissed because it, as the doctor says, was probably the radiation treatment from her first cancer that made her more susceptible to cancer the second time around. And, here I am living in a gated community in MV, driving a car, with a job, a beautiful home, a loving family and friends and no worries... jesus... But people just say, "Be happy, just be happy there's nothing to be sad about." And, they're right but it's not that easy, not for me at least. I am thankful and I don't want to complain. I just don't know how to be optimistic instead of pessimistic. Sue me.
4. I miss my brother. I miss San Francisco.
Enough said. My brother is in San Francisco. I don't have the money to go up there nor the time.
So now I feel better but I still don't feel great. There is still a great deal on my mind but I think I'll save it for another time.
-Molly
I get down. I get depressed. I am not happy go lucky all the time, probably not even half of the time. Recently I have been on a happy streak. But today was a huge blunder. I mean, a total shipwreck. I know... devote a whole horrible fucking day to a blog post... pathetic right? Maybe but it brought up a lot of issues that I am currently dealing with and care to write about. Yes, writing is my therapy.
As I said before, I get depressed. I actually have depression and anxiety and take multiple medications for it, so most of the time the pills are working but that's only half the cigar, the other half is me and what I put into it. Today I gave nothing. I gave into my depression. I know some people who are literally radiant, happy, jovial leprechauns 24/7 (or so it seems like) and explaining depression to them is like trying to explain that there's no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow... It just doesn't work that way. My depression is my demon, almost like something inside of me that takes over if I let it. There are things I do, and say, and think which make no sense to me when I look back on them. This is my depression. Even if you are reading this now it won't make sense because how do you explain to someone that you live a perfect life and that you sometimes have glitches in your brain where you feel like you don't ever want to wake up again. Depression doesn't make sense. Though you can usually always get to the bottom of why you're depressed.
So why, today, was I depressed?
1. No matter how you spin it, no matter how you say it, you're always going to get the same answer.
This guy I have been talking to compliments me and is sweet to me like cherry pie and I just don't get it. In this situation I think it is me because by the way he is acting I expect him to like me or want to date me or something but after many ways of asking him he still doesn't like me. Yet, he always tells me that soon a guy will not be intimidated by me and will soon ask me out or whatever. He's a sweetheart. Just, why can't it be him? Or better yet why can't I just accept that we can be friends only ( just cut down on the compliments ). First non-douchebag I have liked in a while.. can you blame me for wanting to hold on to him?
2.I want to make everyone happy. I don't want to disappoint.
I called in sick to work today. I haven't been feeling well for a while now and I don't know what is wrong with me but none the less I didn't feel well. I jumped into a full fledged routine of tears and shaking because my manager was upset with me and I knew that I was letting my coworkers down. It is a hostess job. See.. I am looking back now and saying OMG what a goon I am that was so not important.. you should've gotten over it... but I didn't. None the less the compulsion sometimes gets the best of me though I did break the mold this past week by wearing my huge nerdy specs to work. Why does this matter? I thought to myself.. guys won't think I am cute.. Derby hostesses have to be cute... and then I said FUCK IT and I wore my nerdy specs and all. (<--Maybe that has more to do with my self confidence.. oh well)
3.I don't understand why I am so unhappy when there is nothing to be unhappy about.
I have a prime example of someone who is happy, enjoying every day of her life though her life is plagued with tragedy. My best friend's mom was at first, I believe 4 or 5 years ago, diagnosed with GBM, a severe brain cancer and has now within the past week been diagnosed with some type of blood cancer. A tumor broke her hip and that is what sent her into the hospital this last week. She was happy with the news that the tumor the most treatable form of blood cancer. When I heard this it really shocked me. How can you be grateful that it is cancer again. I would be fucking pissed because it, as the doctor says, was probably the radiation treatment from her first cancer that made her more susceptible to cancer the second time around. And, here I am living in a gated community in MV, driving a car, with a job, a beautiful home, a loving family and friends and no worries... jesus... But people just say, "Be happy, just be happy there's nothing to be sad about." And, they're right but it's not that easy, not for me at least. I am thankful and I don't want to complain. I just don't know how to be optimistic instead of pessimistic. Sue me.
4. I miss my brother. I miss San Francisco.
Enough said. My brother is in San Francisco. I don't have the money to go up there nor the time.
So now I feel better but I still don't feel great. There is still a great deal on my mind but I think I'll save it for another time.
-Molly
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
unorthodox can of wasps
Recently I've become accustomed to writing electronically on this blog or in a word document instead of in my journal or in a notebook and it is ridiculous because I feel like I am cheating writing. I am an unorthodox writer which is no big deal because nowadays most people use computers to write everything from blog post to work write ups on a computer. Nobody worries about that paper and pen shit anymore. Plus this is eco-friendly YAY! I don't care about trees, really I would just like to be able to pick up a goddamn pen and write in my journal like I used to instead of coming to this screen. I feel like an untrue writer or something.
30 minute time limit to say all I want to say. GO!
Alright I have gotten over the idea, the concept, the fantasy of me ever finding a cool guy in my life whether he be a friend or more than a friend. And until recently I had been staying away from all of them. I was free of men and their misgivings. Hallelujah.
And now I have opened a can of worms or more like a can of wasps ( a little more intimidating ). Why did I crack open this can of wasps with my bare teeth like a hillbilly? I felt attracted to someone and I thought he seemed attracted to me too and, well, I am experienced enough to know how to get some of what I want and of course so inexperienced that I get another bit of what I don't want. I guess you could say that thought though 382 miles are separating us I found a way to increase his likeness for me but of course it came with a catch. I think I must be an idiot or have a curse or something. Anywho, I got what I wanted but I suppose not in the fashion I wanted it. I'm saving the gory details for something not so public like my journal ( that's if I can actually pick it up and write in it ). And to make everything amplified like Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World ( love that movie! ) another girl comes into the picture, a friend. By the way this is in no way referencing to a ménage à trois. So now I am struggling with the whole friend situation because she talks to me like she already knows she is getting some from him the next time she sees him. And she is planning on seeing him. So, where does that leave me? Nowhere, because I never expected nor do I expect this whatever to go anywhere mainly because we are both so far away... maybe if I was back in the bay it would be different. It was always just fun and butterflies and cake and boxing... carefree talking with him. But now a part of me that likes being admired and complimented by him wants to make sure I don't get hurt if he fucks my friend. I've been the girl who gets to find out the guy she likes fucked her best friend... one of the shittiest feelings: Like an uppercut you are not fucking expecting. But I don't want to ask him or say anything to him because it is too much drama and I don't want it to seem like I am trying to control what he does. Go ahead fuck her, I am all for it... just don't tag me along to watch.
And now that I post this I am going to have to say something just in the case that someone reads this shit... though nobody actually does.
goodnight
30 minute time limit to say all I want to say. GO!
Alright I have gotten over the idea, the concept, the fantasy of me ever finding a cool guy in my life whether he be a friend or more than a friend. And until recently I had been staying away from all of them. I was free of men and their misgivings. Hallelujah.
And now I have opened a can of worms or more like a can of wasps ( a little more intimidating ). Why did I crack open this can of wasps with my bare teeth like a hillbilly? I felt attracted to someone and I thought he seemed attracted to me too and, well, I am experienced enough to know how to get some of what I want and of course so inexperienced that I get another bit of what I don't want. I guess you could say that thought though 382 miles are separating us I found a way to increase his likeness for me but of course it came with a catch. I think I must be an idiot or have a curse or something. Anywho, I got what I wanted but I suppose not in the fashion I wanted it. I'm saving the gory details for something not so public like my journal ( that's if I can actually pick it up and write in it ). And to make everything amplified like Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World ( love that movie! ) another girl comes into the picture, a friend. By the way this is in no way referencing to a ménage à trois. So now I am struggling with the whole friend situation because she talks to me like she already knows she is getting some from him the next time she sees him. And she is planning on seeing him. So, where does that leave me? Nowhere, because I never expected nor do I expect this whatever to go anywhere mainly because we are both so far away... maybe if I was back in the bay it would be different. It was always just fun and butterflies and cake and boxing... carefree talking with him. But now a part of me that likes being admired and complimented by him wants to make sure I don't get hurt if he fucks my friend. I've been the girl who gets to find out the guy she likes fucked her best friend... one of the shittiest feelings: Like an uppercut you are not fucking expecting. But I don't want to ask him or say anything to him because it is too much drama and I don't want it to seem like I am trying to control what he does. Go ahead fuck her, I am all for it... just don't tag me along to watch.
And now that I post this I am going to have to say something just in the case that someone reads this shit... though nobody actually does.
goodnight
Thursday, June 23, 2011
womanly womaness
Today was full of yelling, arguing, cursing, many decisions, and stupid head boys.
For film class we had to come up with a page and half narrative in script format, choose the best script then write a storyboard for the best script.
My script wasn't the best which was fine. So, we picked someone else's.
My storyboard was the best but we picked someone else's.
I didn't vote for my own because I read that you are never supposed to vote for your own and I didn't want to be the black sheep causing trouble. But, honestly my storyboard was the best. Now regardless of whether it was or wasn't the best doesn't matter... it is all about the execution. When my storyboard wasn't picked I went into the situation with a smiling face, good attitude and open arms. And then all of a sudden I start suggesting stuff once our lights go up and no one is listening, it was like they changed the channel on their radios just to tune me out. Plus during the shoot they mention my cleavage and how it could get us extra points in our project... fucking obnoxious pigs. I knew my tits were hanging out but there was nothing I could do since I was wearing a low cut shirt while having to look for fake contact lenses. The directing was shit. The shots were shit. Execution of it all was shit. I seriously wanted to choke the director with a weasel and pull out all my hair and then shoot out my brains and have them all clean up the mess with only their tongues. Crude, I know.
I was the talent in the script. Since the script had a girl originally and I was the only girl in our group I felt like they eliminated mine first off because they didn't want to have to rework the script or they just didn't want two guys playing the roles. I don't know. All I do know is never in my life have I felt so belittled between these three guys though I know they weren't doing it on purpose. Maybe it was all instinctual like they were trained to be superior over me. I have talked with a friend before about women in the film business and how they can at times can be overlooked because there aren't many of them and it just makes me think... should I have spoken up about my storyboard in the beginning? What should I have done?
For film class we had to come up with a page and half narrative in script format, choose the best script then write a storyboard for the best script.
My script wasn't the best which was fine. So, we picked someone else's.
My storyboard was the best but we picked someone else's.
I didn't vote for my own because I read that you are never supposed to vote for your own and I didn't want to be the black sheep causing trouble. But, honestly my storyboard was the best. Now regardless of whether it was or wasn't the best doesn't matter... it is all about the execution. When my storyboard wasn't picked I went into the situation with a smiling face, good attitude and open arms. And then all of a sudden I start suggesting stuff once our lights go up and no one is listening, it was like they changed the channel on their radios just to tune me out. Plus during the shoot they mention my cleavage and how it could get us extra points in our project... fucking obnoxious pigs. I knew my tits were hanging out but there was nothing I could do since I was wearing a low cut shirt while having to look for fake contact lenses. The directing was shit. The shots were shit. Execution of it all was shit. I seriously wanted to choke the director with a weasel and pull out all my hair and then shoot out my brains and have them all clean up the mess with only their tongues. Crude, I know.
I was the talent in the script. Since the script had a girl originally and I was the only girl in our group I felt like they eliminated mine first off because they didn't want to have to rework the script or they just didn't want two guys playing the roles. I don't know. All I do know is never in my life have I felt so belittled between these three guys though I know they weren't doing it on purpose. Maybe it was all instinctual like they were trained to be superior over me. I have talked with a friend before about women in the film business and how they can at times can be overlooked because there aren't many of them and it just makes me think... should I have spoken up about my storyboard in the beginning? What should I have done?
Sunday, June 19, 2011
A week of disappointing news.
This week, this month, has been overloaded with disappointing news and it has within the past 48 hours only gotten worse.
It is odd because just a month ago I felt on top of the world with an internship in hand, a job landed and dreams that needed to be tended to. Here I am now upset, devastated, distraught, discouraged and all together just ready to give up. For fuck sake I haven't really created anything in so long.
I feel empty like a tomb.
No ideas.
No hope.
No vacancy
No time.
I found out that my best friends mom, who I consider my second mom, most likely had her hip broken by a tumor. About 5 years ago she was diagnosed with GBM, a very debilitating type of brain cancer. This tumor or mass in her hip is not the GBM but as a result of her chemo and radiation treatments for her GBM it has made her more susceptible to getting cancer. And now after all this time of happiness and good health she is back in the hospital, in pain, possibly with more cancer.
My other second mom was diagnosed with breast cancer a month ago and had a double mastectomy. She had to have reconstructive surgery and does not have any feeling in her new breasts. We found out their dog died today. I loved Radar. As if the breast cancer wasn't enough.
Cancer took my grandfather away from me a year ago in May.
Cancer. Cancer. Cancer.
Death. Death. Death.
It has been a constant fucking reminder like a bird chirping in my ear saying, "life is not everlasting," or "life isn't fair."
I want to squish that fucking bird.
I remember when my grammie got breast cancer. I was young when it happened and at that point, to me it didn't even seem that prevalent (probably because my young age). And now it seems like no matter what age you are, you are at risk of getting cancer.
All I can think about is when will I have to endure another death in my family like my grandfathers because though not blood related both those women are just as close to me as any relative. I think of how I will react when I get the news or where I will be. I know...morbid. But I figured out this is how I brace myself for the reality of the situation. This is how I prepare myself for the worst. I find it nearly impossible at times to think positive because I don't believe in miracles, I don't believe God is listening to my good thoughts, I don't believe that I can do anything to help. But it is funny because I find that a positive attitude is key to getting through most things, even illnesses, not because it has magical powers but because of its biological powers. Somehow I find cancer so deafening to life that any positiveness is just drowned out immediately, regardless.
And to add to it all I have been so busy and out of sync that I haven't been writing, painting, or photographing anything. I made a schedule hoping to get on track with this creative stuff. I am going to try and turn my negatives into positives. I am going to try and workout too.
But mostly in all this pain and sadness, I feel alone. I wish there were people outside to comfort me or to tell me it will all be okay.
It is odd because just a month ago I felt on top of the world with an internship in hand, a job landed and dreams that needed to be tended to. Here I am now upset, devastated, distraught, discouraged and all together just ready to give up. For fuck sake I haven't really created anything in so long.
I feel empty like a tomb.
No ideas.
No hope.
No vacancy
No time.
I found out that my best friends mom, who I consider my second mom, most likely had her hip broken by a tumor. About 5 years ago she was diagnosed with GBM, a very debilitating type of brain cancer. This tumor or mass in her hip is not the GBM but as a result of her chemo and radiation treatments for her GBM it has made her more susceptible to getting cancer. And now after all this time of happiness and good health she is back in the hospital, in pain, possibly with more cancer.
My other second mom was diagnosed with breast cancer a month ago and had a double mastectomy. She had to have reconstructive surgery and does not have any feeling in her new breasts. We found out their dog died today. I loved Radar. As if the breast cancer wasn't enough.
Cancer took my grandfather away from me a year ago in May.
Cancer. Cancer. Cancer.
Death. Death. Death.
It has been a constant fucking reminder like a bird chirping in my ear saying, "life is not everlasting," or "life isn't fair."
I want to squish that fucking bird.
I remember when my grammie got breast cancer. I was young when it happened and at that point, to me it didn't even seem that prevalent (probably because my young age). And now it seems like no matter what age you are, you are at risk of getting cancer.
All I can think about is when will I have to endure another death in my family like my grandfathers because though not blood related both those women are just as close to me as any relative. I think of how I will react when I get the news or where I will be. I know...morbid. But I figured out this is how I brace myself for the reality of the situation. This is how I prepare myself for the worst. I find it nearly impossible at times to think positive because I don't believe in miracles, I don't believe God is listening to my good thoughts, I don't believe that I can do anything to help. But it is funny because I find that a positive attitude is key to getting through most things, even illnesses, not because it has magical powers but because of its biological powers. Somehow I find cancer so deafening to life that any positiveness is just drowned out immediately, regardless.
And to add to it all I have been so busy and out of sync that I haven't been writing, painting, or photographing anything. I made a schedule hoping to get on track with this creative stuff. I am going to try and turn my negatives into positives. I am going to try and workout too.
But mostly in all this pain and sadness, I feel alone. I wish there were people outside to comfort me or to tell me it will all be okay.
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