I’m going to give this blog an anonymous go. I already have a personal blog through Google, but unfortunately some of my friends and family are aware of it. That’s normally not an issue, but to post deep and dark thought and secrets just won’t fly there.
I’ve been going through a pretty rough and soul-shattering time lately. In July 2012 my wife and I decided to separate after 6 1/2 years of marriage. My best friend is slowly but surely disappearing from my life, and I miss her so much. I don’t desire to repair the marriage, because I know that there are inherent issues that we had been ignoring for too long to make a happy marriage. Lack of sex, bitterness built up over time and a one-sided decision making partner do not work in a cooperative relationship. We recognized that. She got an apartment to be closer to her job in Wisconsin around late August. The last time I saw her was late September. We’ve spoken on the phone once since then, but mainly communicate by Facebook or email. My heart breaks almost everyday.
The day after we decided that our marriage wasn’t working, we took a road trip together into Wisconsin for the day. The sky was clear and the sun was out. We blared her car’s satellite radio to First Wave, listening to Depeche Mode and The Pet Shop Boys. A tour to different locations that she wanted to check out culminated to an open air restaurant for dinner. It was close to 90 degrees, but the breeze and the shade were fine. It was a bittersweet meal as we sat and chatted like friends, then drove home before dark to feed our cats.
I will never forget that day with her, and will think of it fondly for years to come. Now, it brings tears to my eyes. I miss my wife. I’ve gone to some very dark places in the interim.
Adding to my self-imposed grief is an unfulfilling office job and a career in the performing arts that I often wonder was a complete waste of time. I tell myself that I had some very rich experiences and learned a lot about myself as I pursued a life in the arts. I genuinely wanted to make it work as a living, even accepting that my Actors’ Union status would prevent me from auditioning for most plays. What I didn’t count on was a struggle to pay for my share of the townhouse mortgage, and my love for the arts wasn’t enough. I failed to read new plays, audition on a regular basis, and look at an alternate means of self-expression. I cut it out of my life; given the circumstances it was the best thing for me to do. That was more than 3 years ago. I leave it to the fates if I get back into it. I really wanted to be noticed and respected, and put too much into that notion to really deserve any accolades like that.
I’ve supplanted my acting with writing. I wrote a terrible screenplay, sent it off to a friend who had recently made their home in L.A., told me it was not good, told me why it was not good, and old me to read a book and get a clue. I did both. Last summer I go Third Place in a TV writing contest for a comedy television pilot I wrote. I also have a teen action-adventure pilot that’s near and dear to my heart. I haven’t felt this fulfilled in years. I am considering a move to La-La-Land, especially after a visit there last May. The energy is palpable.
But the real world has me locked into paying half of a mortgage and living paycheck-to-paycheck to pay for it. And no real solid plan to implement my supposed dream. I think it’s because I’m afraid of starting over at the age of 42. I have paralyzed myself. I went to a therapy session for the first time in December. Not since I was 8 years old did I go to a mental health session like this. I can’t say that it relived any burdens, but it was nice to get homework: 1. Call a friend and ask to hang out. I did, and consequently had a New Year’s Eve Party to go to. My wedding anniversary is on New Year’s Eve, so I avoided sheer sadness by toasting with some acquaintances. 2. Look at what other jobs are out there now. I did this peripherally, after expressing a frustration with my current job situation. There are opportunities out there, but nothing I would seriously consider at the moment. 3. Start exercising. I had a bad case of the flu starting on New Year’s Day and still have a bit of phlegm that I cough up. I need to get moving on this. And I need to call for my second appointment.
That’s about it. I’ve written quite a bit about my woes, and encapsulated them here. I think I’ve tired myself out. I am thankful for my cats, as I’ve become their primary care-giver. I tell them I love them everyday. That may sound silly and sad for a 42 year old man to declare, but I am indeed a silly and sad soul. Right now, that is.
This blog will probably serve just me and me alone. But that’s fine. I used to handwrite my journals years ago. I can turn to the e-version, no problem.