Today I went with my mom to the Walled Lake Western High School's production of The Phantom of the Opera. We go every year to the local high school performances and I leave more upset than any bad day off my meds could ever leave me. I can't even sit in my seat and have the lights dim before anything even starts without my eyes filling with tears. And yes, I am an emotional person, but if I didn't live with daily regret of my past then I wouldn't feel this way.
When I was twelve I got the lead in my junior high's play. It was where I was meant to be whether the entire thing was atrocious. When I got to high school I was not in the plays and musicals solely because sports took up far too much of my time. My junior year I tried out for Hello Dolly. I had to sing a song and then do a few lines from the play. I picked the song "Stardust" by Nat King Cole. One of my most favorite songs to date. Then came my lines. I had to recite about a paragraph from memory and about ten words in, they stopped me, laughing hysterically, and asked me to start over. They apologized but they said my accent was fantastic and they had never stopped an audition before. I got a call back to be in the chorus, I didn't get any of the leads due to lack of seniority. It was kind of a bummer, but I understood. I was one of the lead dancers and I put my heart and soul into my part. That is the beginning of when my life started drifting downhill. I quit the dance team and I became tangled in a web of all things destructive. I wound up quitting the play and it broke my heart. I left my fellow actors in the lurches because of selfishness. I began dating a guy who was most definitely the king of the losers and from there my life was easily defined as a mess. He treated me poorly, cheated on me, talked to me like I was scum, while I worshiped the ground he walked on. Inevitably my Senior year, I didn't go on the exchange trip to Germany like I should have, I didn't go to Prom, Graduation, any of the senior events, I wasn't on any sports teams and I didn't do the play or musical. Christ, if I hadn't done so well my previous three years of school, I wouldn't have graduated at all. I let someone who didn't even care whether I was alive or dead dictate every move of my life. The pining for the stage never left me.
I had my daughter when I was 19 and it put a lot of things in my life on hold. I work and spend time with her and that is all that is important to me. Or so I tell myself. It isn't all though. Every year when we go to these productions and I leave I am in physical pain because of how much hurt I have in my heart over not being a part of it. So I looked up the Farmington Players & Avon players. They have auditions coming up. I don't even know if it is something I can do with work, but I am going to try. I have stopped working on making myself happy for the last thirteen years and I am breaking myself apart.
Did I mention that The Phantom of the Opera is my number one musical? I know, literally, every single word. Every line, every pitch, every tone, every note. Today I sat in the audience lip-syncing every single word imaginable. And while it left me with a gaping hole, it felt amazing. Like being around the stage gives me a sense of euphoria.
Maybe I am losing my mind. Maybe I have dreamed up this whole regret and passion idea. Maybe I need to give this acting thing a second change to see what I have been missing for the last decade plus. I know that without it in my life... something is definitely missing.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Monday, November 14, 2011
Damn PhD's
So today was incredibly frustrating!! Slight back story: Last Wednesday I rolled my ankle at volleyball and the pain burned like fire up my leg. I tied my shoe on as tight as it would go, elevated immediately, and proceeded to pop a Xanex cuz I knew I my blood pressure was going to sky rocket! Now this is not my first ankle-breaking rodeo. I have done this a time or two.. or three before. I know what it takes to heal this sucker back up, however, this time was the least awful of all the times I have hurt myself in the ankle region.
The very first time, in '03, I was black and blue to the knee within a day and on crutches for 2 weeks all while camping. The second time, was a product of a volleyball game gone wrong. I went up to block with a behemoth of a man who had to compensate for my lack of height by jumping across my entire body. He landed and then I landed... on his feet... rolling my ankle to the ground. This time was, again, at volleyball. I went up to block, blocked, came down so tight on the net that I knew I was going to go under and onto the other side therefore having the whistle blown on me, so I compensated by throwing my body one way while my feet went the other. Crunch. Oh and the whistle was blown on me after all. Guess my ankle went on the wrong side. *shudder* I went onto my back and laid there in pain knowing exactly what had happened. Knowing that I was done walking like an average human being for at least a month. If I had a dollar for every time I have given myself "cankles"... I might be in the ballpark of ten bucks.
Wednesday, crunched the cankle. Friday, went to the doctors for the x-ray. Do I even get to see my doctor? No. I have to see the P.A. who IS NOT A DOCTOR! The last six appointments I have made at this office, I have seen the P.A.. I like her. She is nice, but what am I paying for? Monday, 12:30p.m. I leave for work with still no phone call from the office as to whether my ankle is indeed broken or not. Am I supposed to just guess? If I would have opted to pay $50 and go to Urgent Care, I would have known within an hour, not 4 days! They called around 1:30 to tell me it wasn't broken. And when I say "they called" I mean not the doctor, OR the PA. It was no one I ever heard of before while I could hear the PA in the background dictating what to say. Really? Hand her the gdamn phone!!
Here was the phone call:
"Mary, we've reviewed your x-ray and everything is normal."
"Oooookay, so what should I do?"
"Well just resume activity as you normally would."
"Well I am on my feet 9 hours a day just at work so what should I do."
"When you are not on your feet, make sure to ice and elevate."
A) My 9 year old could have told me to ice and elevate. Shit, I knew that from the 475 previous times I've effed my ankle up.
B) My ankle is normal? No, it may not be broken, but it is NOT normal. It is the size of a grapefruit with mass bruising. That is not normal.
C) Did you know a sprain is harder to heal and WORSE than a break? Yeah, fuck you doctors office.
Of course I went into tears after this phone call ended. The sap that I am. I was red-faced and pissed. I immediately called my insurance and changed doctors. Talk about dramatic. I also plan to write a very strongly worded letter to the practice. We will see if the doctors even read it. Maybe they'll let the PA read it.
The very first time, in '03, I was black and blue to the knee within a day and on crutches for 2 weeks all while camping. The second time, was a product of a volleyball game gone wrong. I went up to block with a behemoth of a man who had to compensate for my lack of height by jumping across my entire body. He landed and then I landed... on his feet... rolling my ankle to the ground. This time was, again, at volleyball. I went up to block, blocked, came down so tight on the net that I knew I was going to go under and onto the other side therefore having the whistle blown on me, so I compensated by throwing my body one way while my feet went the other. Crunch. Oh and the whistle was blown on me after all. Guess my ankle went on the wrong side. *shudder* I went onto my back and laid there in pain knowing exactly what had happened. Knowing that I was done walking like an average human being for at least a month. If I had a dollar for every time I have given myself "cankles"... I might be in the ballpark of ten bucks.
Wednesday, crunched the cankle. Friday, went to the doctors for the x-ray. Do I even get to see my doctor? No. I have to see the P.A. who IS NOT A DOCTOR! The last six appointments I have made at this office, I have seen the P.A.. I like her. She is nice, but what am I paying for? Monday, 12:30p.m. I leave for work with still no phone call from the office as to whether my ankle is indeed broken or not. Am I supposed to just guess? If I would have opted to pay $50 and go to Urgent Care, I would have known within an hour, not 4 days! They called around 1:30 to tell me it wasn't broken. And when I say "they called" I mean not the doctor, OR the PA. It was no one I ever heard of before while I could hear the PA in the background dictating what to say. Really? Hand her the gdamn phone!!
Here was the phone call:
"Mary, we've reviewed your x-ray and everything is normal."
"Oooookay, so what should I do?"
"Well just resume activity as you normally would."
"Well I am on my feet 9 hours a day just at work so what should I do."
"When you are not on your feet, make sure to ice and elevate."
A) My 9 year old could have told me to ice and elevate. Shit, I knew that from the 475 previous times I've effed my ankle up.
B) My ankle is normal? No, it may not be broken, but it is NOT normal. It is the size of a grapefruit with mass bruising. That is not normal.
C) Did you know a sprain is harder to heal and WORSE than a break? Yeah, fuck you doctors office.
Of course I went into tears after this phone call ended. The sap that I am. I was red-faced and pissed. I immediately called my insurance and changed doctors. Talk about dramatic. I also plan to write a very strongly worded letter to the practice. We will see if the doctors even read it. Maybe they'll let the PA read it.
Monday, November 7, 2011
Once Upon A Time...
Watching ABC's Once Upon A Time really makes me think. Especially when Ginnifer Goodwin's writers give her lines to say that make a lot of sense...
"If guess if true love was easy, we'd all have it."
No words spoke more true. I'm not exactly sure why love is on the brain as much as it has been as of late, but I do know that it is weighing heavy. It's been in everything I say, do, & see... and dammit! I am afraid of love. I do not want it staring me in the face all the time. I do a lot in my every day life to avoid all things love related - even as far as saying that I do not believe in it- but here it is, throwing itself all over my life.
I suppose if my daughter were in my same predicament I would not want her to fear love. I would want her to embrace it, but I would want her to see clearly which I am certain most people do not.
I can remember having a conversation with my friend Brandon about 2 years ago now. He had just broken up with one of his girlfriends and was pretty distraught. I asked him how when he kept loving so strong and losing so great how he could still have such passion in his life for love. How could he still wake up every day and want to love, because I was the exact opposite. My passion was exhausted and I spent more time hating love then I ever spent doing anything else. Perhaps that is my biggest problem. Perhaps that is why love has never found me. Because as much as I fear it, it fears my hatred for it.
"If guess if true love was easy, we'd all have it."
No words spoke more true. I'm not exactly sure why love is on the brain as much as it has been as of late, but I do know that it is weighing heavy. It's been in everything I say, do, & see... and dammit! I am afraid of love. I do not want it staring me in the face all the time. I do a lot in my every day life to avoid all things love related - even as far as saying that I do not believe in it- but here it is, throwing itself all over my life.
I suppose if my daughter were in my same predicament I would not want her to fear love. I would want her to embrace it, but I would want her to see clearly which I am certain most people do not.
I can remember having a conversation with my friend Brandon about 2 years ago now. He had just broken up with one of his girlfriends and was pretty distraught. I asked him how when he kept loving so strong and losing so great how he could still have such passion in his life for love. How could he still wake up every day and want to love, because I was the exact opposite. My passion was exhausted and I spent more time hating love then I ever spent doing anything else. Perhaps that is my biggest problem. Perhaps that is why love has never found me. Because as much as I fear it, it fears my hatred for it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)