So I’ve been sitting here staring at my computer for most of the day. In truth, the only times I’ve moved are to take my dog or myself to the bathroom or to make dinner.
I’ve been sitting here all day, penning my biography. Every last sordid detail; I mean I still have a lot more stories to tell about my life, other things that I have to add, to round it out, to make it into an actual book worth publishing, but the bones are there. The skeleton has been built and I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it all.
I know there is a ton of work to do before it’s done, and I know damn well if I don’t finish it, then the memories, the secrets, and the shame will always hold me back. I know that as much as I want “Where do Stars come from?” to be my first book, it’s important I start with this. That I let go of the past, it’s the final nail in the coffin to breaking down the wall between who I was and who I am supposed to be.
Today was spent mostly screaming, yelling, kicking and cursing the universe, all internally of course, because it was hard.
It was hard to write down the map that shows how I kept making the same mistakes over and over and over again, it’s hard to admit that a lot of what happened to me, was because of my own behavior, because of old scars that had not healed, that still haven’t healed.
So it’s coming. My life as a book is coming, I wish I could go back to that five year old girl that decided she had to have an interesting life to write a book, and smack her, repeatedly. I’m of course smiling as I say that…but I’m serious, I’d really like to say “no, pick anything else, become an actor, but be anything but a writer…”
If that were possible however, I wouldn’t be who I am today, and she’s pretty fucking awesome.
So now that I’m done, I’m going to go smoke a joint, relax and decompress, so that tomorrow I can begin the real work.
I have to send a massive shout out to Shareen Mansfield of OTV Magazine. She’s the one beta-reading and editing the book, it has to be her because a) she has no connection to my life, and b) she’s the only one that can do it without being triggered, and with a critical eye.
So thank you, for taking this on, for standing by me, for supporting me and knowing I could get through this without slitting my wrists, it was touch and go for a moment.
There are of course a lot of other thank you’s to get to, but not today. Those will end up in the final product. I’m excited and nervous and scared, but…for now I’m content.
I admit I cried a little bit, there was a voice in my head that said “see? That wasn’t so hard.” I wanted to smack that voice too, yes it was hard, but I did it. Thirty four years of life fits into fifty pages – it will be much more when I am finally done, when I finally write all the tiny important parts that take the skeleton and turn it into a body.
Anyone who stalks my social media (yeah I know you do, crazy bitch) should be afraid. I’m not holding back any more. If you mattered you’re in the book, good bad and the ugly in between.
Okay that’s a lie, I’m keeping some stuff to myself, but mostly because it would end up with me being shot otherwise, and since I’ve made it this far, I’d rather that not be my end.
So with that, I’m going to eat, I haven’t eaten a fucking thing today.