No Laughing Matter

I've been playing around on Twitter lately.  I had an account years ago, but I lost interest in all of the drama that seemed to come along with it.  I'm not sure what made me go back.  I guess I was just curious to see if anything had changed.  It doesn't seem that much has changed at all. There are lots of famous (and infamous) people of course, and there are cliques (both good and bad,) and there are people just looking for a laugh.  And there are still a lot of trolls and assholes.  Of course, Twitter has been known to help spread important messages, so it's not all bad.

I'm normally not the type of person who gives a shit about what famous people are up to.  Many of them seem too self-absorbed, and I have better things to do than pay attention to what Gwyneth or Beyoncé are doing.  Don't get me started on the majority of the reality show celebutards.  I will never understand the fascination of those Housewife or Bachelor shows.  Or most of the "let's follow a star around their life" shows.  Maybe if there was a series that revealed a different aspect of their life, rather than just the fluff, I might be inclined to watch.  There are a few actors/performers, though,  that I really admire, so I started following a few of them over the last couple of weeks.  One in particular really caught my attention.   She's a little different from the majority of the Hollywood types- she actually interacts with her fans regularly.  She is very smart and quick-witted, and also brutally honest about herself, and I think a lot of people (myself included) really appreciate her humanness (is that a word?  If not, it is now.)  That type of honesty and openness also comes with a price for her though (in my opinion anyways.)  A lot of people seem to think it means they can say whatever they want, with no concern for her feelings.  Of course, dealing with public commentary is one of the realities of living a public life. It's probably an evil that is (mostly) happily ignored, as a trade-off for doing something they love. Anyways, this particular actress is no shrinking violet, and has no problem telling people to piss off when it's warranted, but Christ on a cracker some people are just plain rude!

Recently, this actress posted about an issue that is very serious to her- addiction.  I'm pretty sure that the majority of people in the U.S. have been affected by substance abuse in some way.  (I have no data to prove this, other than the fact that almost everyone I know has either had a problem themselves, or has a family member that has.)  There was a lot of positive commentary on what she posted- in fact I'm pretty sure most of it was positive.  And then (cue the assholes) a lot of really inappropriate jokes about drunks and addicts started popping up.  I felt myself getting so angry at the flippant attitudes, that I really wanted to lash out.  Instead, I signed off and found something else to do.

I got angry because I am the daughter of an alcoholic.  My father was the son of an alcoholic.  Alcoholism is woven into every moment of my childhood, and helped shape who I am today.  Don't get me wrong, my father was wonderful, and loving, yet somewhat distant.  He worked hard to make sure we had everything we needed, sometimes working a second job to supplement his military pay.  He was what would be considered a functional alcoholic.  But he was still an alcoholic- a skill he learned from his father.  A skill he used to shroud the pain of his own childhood, and that he sharpened to a fine point during and after the Vietnam War.  No matter how many times he tried to stop drinking (usually after a hairy-assed fight with my mom) he would start again within a couple of days.  We didn't talk about his problem in our home though.  There was never a discussion of Dad going to get help to stop.  He would spend the nights and weekends drunk, and we acted like he wasn't.  I hated it.  It hurt me to see him stagger down the hallway at night... to hear his slurred speech.  I drink very little because of what I witnessed from my father.  I drink very little because I like how it feels when I've had a little too much.  And when I do drink, I always have just a little too much.  When I do drink, I can feel how easy it would be to just not stop. 

I am also the sister of two drug addicts.  We did not grow up together (we have different fathers,) but I have been getting to know them over the last several years (that's a whole different topic.)   My brother has been in and out of prison all of his adult life because of drugs and alcohol, and because of the horrible choices he has made due to his addiction.  He tries to get clean, and does well for awhile.  But then something happens in his life, and he falls back into old habits.  He's back in prison now, where he will be for the next two years.  My sister has struggled with drug addiction for several years, but thankfully she has been clean and sober for the past year.  I hope that she continues to do well.  My siblings' lives have been wrecked.  Some would say that they chose this life- that they are only hurting themselves.  But that is not wholly correct.  Their children's lives have been forever affected by their illness. 

There is nothing funny about addiction.  There is nothing funny about the lives destroyed and lost because of substance abuse. Yet people make jokes as if none of those lives matter... as if the pain isn't real. Do these people who think it's so funny really have nobody in their lives that have struggled with addiction?  Or are they just callous and uncaring?  Would they make those jokes to their own addicted or recovering loved ones?

Not Quite Regrets

I had big dreams.  When I was six, my dream was that Cher was my real mother.  When I was eight, I wanted to be a singer, just like Dolly Parton.  By eleven, I just wanted to be rich and famous.  Once I started high school, I fell in love with drama and dance.  I just knew I would become an actress and a dancer someday.

I got a part in the first play I auditioned for my freshman year.  I played "Rose the Bag Lady" in Sweeney Todd (the non-musical version.)  I had the time of my life, but I never acted in another play, because although I loved it, I couldn't handle the teasing, and being called a drama geek by the popular kids.  I worked backstage for several other plays during those four years of school, but I didn't enjoy it nearly as much as being onstage.  There was just something so magical about being under the lights, and becoming someone else (a skill I practiced in my head often as a young child.)  I always envied the people that stuck with theater- the ones with thicker skin, who apparently already knew that when high school was over, none of that crap would matter.  I really wish they would have let me in on that secret!

I managed to stick with dance through high school, and it was the only place I felt truly happy.  I still didn't quite fit in.  I was still mostly an outsider, but I pretended it didn't bother me much.  I busied myself with dance rehearsals, and having the outward appearance of being self-confident.  When I moved on to (community) college, I was shocked to find out that I could major in dance.  For the next couple of years, I worked hard to hone my craft, dancing up to six hours a day. I connected with an amazing teacher, who gave me so much confidence in myself, that I believed I would someday have a career in dance.  She also connected with me on a personal level, and made me feel like I mattered to her.  She encouraged me to move on and audition for a spot in the Dance Department at Long Beach State.  I was terrified the day of the audition, but I just knew I would be accepted- and I was!! 

I only spent a year at Long Beach though.  All of my insecurities came crashing back around me and were suffocating me.  So I quit.  I wanted so badly to go back, but I was paralyzed with fear and self doubt.   I have always wondered what could have been.  Would I have joined a company?  Danced in videos?  Failed miserably, and ended up right where I am now?  I'll never know.

I've often said that I regret not sticking with acting and dance, but that's not quite true.  If I hadn't given into my fears and insecurities, my life would be very different right now.  I would likely not have my husband or my amazing children, and I would never trade them for the world (at least on most days!)  They are the only things in my life that I know, without a doubt, will never vanish.  They are the only people in this world with whom I have an unbreakable bond.  So to say that I regret the things I missed out on in the past is really not right, because that would mean that I regret where life has taken me.  The path my life has taken has certainly not been easy, but I wouldn't change it, for fear of changing where I have ended up.

Sometimes I Attempt to Write

From time to time I may post things that I've written.  I don't profess to be an amazing writer, nor do I think I would ever have the ability to write a book that anyone would want to read.  But I have always loved putting pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard in this day and age,) and sometimes I like to share what I've written.

A Story of Faith (working title) 

Prologue

The summer of 1970 might have been the best ever.  Or it might have been the worst, depending on who you ask.  If you were to ask Susie, she would say it was the best time of her life.  She was almost seventeen, and she was ready to experience the world.  She spent her days hanging out at Heritage Park with her friends, listening to music, getting high, and dreaming of the day she could finally walk out of her mom and stepdad’s house forever.  She had quit going to school two years earlier.  Susie didn’t need school and the oppressive rules that came along with all of that.  She was a free spirit, a flower child... a hippie who was sure she knew it all.

If you were to ask me, I would have a very different opinion. I wasn’t even alive yet, but the choices she made that summer would dictate the course of my life.

Broken

Before I get too far into this blog, I suppose I should forewarn you that I am broken.  I've carried a lot of pain and insecurity my whole life, and it's still with me to this day.  But I'm one of those "she looks like she has it mostly together" types of broken people.  That's my control freak/perfectionist nature.  I can't let anyone see what actually lies beneath the surface.  I've never really talked too much about my struggles, so writing them here will be new territory for me.

I read a book recently, and the author talked about her own struggles very honestly, and about why it was so important for her to be honest in the telling of her story.  What she had to say really resonated with me, and I thought, hell, why not try?  Our stories really aren't similar at all- hers being about drug and alcohol abuse, and my own being mostly about abandonment and feeling unwanted.  Nonetheless,  a lot of the emotions and insecurities that she talked about really hit home for me.  She talked about being in her own head, wishing she were somewhere and someone else.  That was exactly my escape as a kid.  It was how I made myself feel worthy and special.

I can't be as honest in my real life as the author was in her memoir, for so many reasons.  This is the best I can do... at least it's something. 

The One Where I Introduce Myself

Hey there!  I'm Lisa.  I've blogged before, but mostly about "mommy" types of things.  My other blog is still floating around in cyberspace, but I haven't posted to it since 2011.  If you click my profile, you'll see it, but it's not really worth a look, unless you are interested in prematurity, or listening to me drone on about my kids, or reading about my reconnection with my absentee mother.  I poured a lot of energy into that blog, though, so deleting it seems kind of like deleting one of my children.  Plus, I was in a very different place in my life when I was writing it, and sometimes I like to go back and re-read it to remind myself. 

I've been thinking about jumping back into blogging for quite some time, but this time will be different.  This time it's just random things for myself.  If you find it interesting, fantastic!  If not, that's okay too.  So, welcome to my digs!