I’m starting to fear the emotions of change. For so long, I’ve been gripping through the trauma and fear of “What will they do next?” that I’ve been able to avoid the heartache and loss of this home I’ve loved so much for 2 years.
And the relationship that turned so very ugly, painful, and dangerous.
I loved him. He was my best friend. All of my girls had gone. He was my whole social life, my whole private life. We were happy in that house, for a long time.
I was. It’s embarrassing to realize in hindsight how much distance he was creating all that time. I wish I’d seen that he was yet another man lacking the courage to be truthful. I asked! Of course I was aware the connection was eroding. So he’s not strong enough to offer difficult honesty. Why hide it when approached with it?
Feelings are coming. Tears are returning.
My new apartment is fine. I’ll adjust. But it’s terribly dark, and it makes me sad for my cats. More than my plants, even, it makes me sad for my cats. My sunroom was such a joy to us. I couldn’t ever get a good shot of it, but it was so colorful and joyful, a place where a new, unexpected talent presented itself. It was a magic space, until that woman cornered me there, leaning me backwards over a table, and gave me the low-down on how it’s going down now that she owns this house. “Meaning no harm,” of course, with her finger in my face.
Since then, I’ve gone fairly numb. All that’s left is panic.
Now it’s anxiety of a real and changing kind.
And I feel so much guilt and anxiety about my show. We open in two and a half weeks and I’m not even memorized! I don’t know my dances! IT’S AWFUL.
What was I thinking, offering myself to a show I had no time or right to claim availability for? My character is spot on, but I don’t know my part!
I’m trying to memorize, but I still can’t keep my mind on the task at hand.
I’m freaking out.