backyard crowing


it's just like riding a bike

Yesterday afternoon I ate lunch with N, the director of the dog documentary I was a part of.

She was incredible. She understood about my absence, and was thankful to have me on the film.

I was really worried about my apology, but she understood, she really did. I was in tears many times over this, it was eating me alive.

My guilt was twofold - I felt I had left both her and myself down. I felt that I had left her hanging, all because my brain didn't want to move forward with my career.

I thought of her frequently in the last 10 months, and when I did, I thought about what it would feel like to hold a gun to my head and pull the trigger. I'm not kidding.

And I'm still easing out of that, reminding myself that she has forgiven me, and all is well. I don't need to torture myself, and no sin I think I committed in the name of reliability warrants a bullet in my brain.

Can you imagine me leaving a suicide note mentioning my guilt over this incident, only to have her read it, puzzled and saddened?

I am okay. I do not deserve to die just because I didn't feel moved at the core to tutor her. She wasn't fretting or losing sleep over this, only I was.

Something in me was pulling me back from continuing with the tutoring, so I kind of ... dropped the whole thing and we didn't do any more editing work at all. It was an invisible force, Resistance at its best, if you're familiar with The War on Art.

I had helped loads during the documentary, though.

She quelled my fears about my absence from film as a whole. She said it's just like riding a bike. You get back up, and it will come to you.

That was the reigning shock and relief of today. And she said it so casually! Without deep thought, just off the cuff! It's just like riding a bike!

I made a realization tonight, when I couldn't sleep:

Anything you haven't done in ages, and want to do?

It's ALSO just like riding a bike. Your mind can trick you into thinking simple things are impossible.


In this vein, I keep thinking of what my therapist said of my quitting tutoring:

"It wasn't the right time.

And it's true. It wasn't the right time.

Intuition, an invisible puppet, divine intervention, depression -- whatever you want to call it, I was NOT supposed to be doing that tutoring. And that's okay. It's not even bad. I wasn't up to it, and I didn't do it.

I didn't know our tutoring had a nearing end date, but it did, and voila. And now I'm finally moving on, and that's okay. That's for the best.

Two things that have kept me from wanting to live in this city are a sense of guilt over the tutoring thing, and a history of confusion and anger towards the nightmare editing professor I once had.

When I leave ATX, I hope never to think of that guy again. I think if I leave and pursue my dreams, I'll finally be rid of whatever hold he has on my brain and heart.

Let it be.


In other news:

I hate the term LDR, and I don't want to use it to describe R and I. Tonight was very tough. I did most of my packing, and cried through it. Crying is exhausting, y'all! ...and now I can't sleep, go figure. :)

I leave tomorrow. Today was just too hard.

2:10 am - Tuesday, Oct. 17, 2017


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