When I first started writing this blog it was very easy for me. Emotion was flowing out of me, relatively and the words and thoughts seemed to be pouring out. Now, not so much, though I guess I am still feeling a lot of things, I don't feel like I have as much to write about.
Charlie's visit totally brought me back to what things were like when he was here last, which was almost half a decade ago. He is exactly the same and having him here completely reminded me why I like all of my friends so much, not that I had forgot. I've had plenty of opportunities to be appreciative of my friends, especially after my manic episode, but this was more of a time to really enjoy each other. Things are always crazy when he is here, by crazy I mean a lot more drinking and a lot less sleeping than usual, but I haven't felt happier since last time he was here.
Last time he was here culminated in the golden summer of 2007, he actually visited once after that in 2008, I believe. Summer of 2007 was a dream. I spent almost every day with my friends at the beach. It was a once in a lifetime experience.
This week marks six months since my manic episode. I was slow coming out of it this time, in comparison to the others, where I was out for a day, then woke up and felt relatively back to myself. This one was much more slow burning. It never was as intense and out of control as my last episodes, it also lasted for a much longer period of time.
A friend of mine recently admitted herself to a hospital for depression and quit her job as soon as she got out. Reminded me a lot of myself. Right now she is going through the hardest part, where you realize these decisions you thought were good at the time have consequences.
I saw Charlie off to the airport, we had a last meal together over in Larchmont Village. I cried a little bit when he left. When he is here, we are all so focused on the group and having fun together. He really is such a fascinating person, the only person I know who makes a living off of doing improv comedy, there are not many in the world.
So, now I am still coming down from that amazing time we all had together. I don't really know how to feel or what I am feeling, I guess right now I am feeling a sort of numbness. I got a really good sleep last night and felt very awake and on top of things today. I was on the ball at work and came home and exercised.
I'd kind of like to see Natasha again, girl I met in Las Vegas. It's not the end of the world if it doesn't happen, her personality still annoys me a bit, like it did in college, but I have no doubt she is a sweet and kind person.
On Sunday night, Charlie's last night here, Stefan rolled a joint for everyone to smoke. Gilli told me I shouldn't smoke it and after some pouting I listened to her. I know she is right, but in this specific situation I was really tempted. I knew it was the only time that Charlie and Stefan and Kevin and her would all be able to share that experience. She told me if I didn't smoke she would give up drinking martinis because it was the "same thing".
I don't think she realizes that it isn't the same thing at all, it would be like her giving up drinking all together. Part of me feels like once every couple months isn't that bad, considering I used to smoke almost every day, if not multiple times a day and had no meds or psychiatrist to help with my condition. But certainly, I understand why some people in my life would prefer it not happen at all. She also told me she would only smoke with me once I got the "okay" from somebody, as if a doctor would ever tell me that. I am honest with my psychiatrist about the times that I've smoked, but I would hardly say she was okay with it.
I think there is more to be said about pot and how it related to my mental instability. I know there is no way to really know. I was smoking less and less as the experience got more intense because it made me feel more paranoid that I already did. When I drove to Mexico, I hadn't smoked in a few days or a week or so, can't really remember. The doctors at the hospital were very surprised when I passed my drug test, as was I. Is it possible that smoking for so long and then quitting contributed to what happened? Maybe.
Why am I still allowed to drink alcohol? I was drinking alcohol each time I had a manic episode as well. I know this probably means that I really shouldn't be drinking at all either. Yet no one has ever brought this up or told me I need to stop drinking.
A lot of my friends do hard drugs, mostly cocaine, ecstasy, and psychedelics, yet no one ever tells them to cool it or to stop. I guess part of it is none of them have ever let their drug use affect any of their friend's lives. When Charlie was here, one thing he said about Vegas was that everyone did what they wanted and there was no pressure to do anything and there was no pressure to not do anything. That is the attitude that I miss.
I understand why things aren't that way any more. I have lost my privilege of doing whatever I want because of the choices I've made. What happened to me really scared a lot of people and I feel bad for putting people through that. More than anything I want to make sure that I don't put anyone through that again.
Lately creative writing has been difficult for me. In fact, I really haven't done any creative writing since I got out of the hospital. I wrote thirty or so pages of memoirs, but I must admit, I was disappointed by what I wrote. Nothing in comparison to the work I was turning out before. As I've said before, it slowed down around May or June of last year, I guess when Kate and I broke up. I haven't done much since. I want to, but all I have are these very vague ideas floating around in my head. I am waiting for the to coalesce, but nothing has yet. Well, that isn't exactly true. I have one idea that is pretty specific and I think would make a good idea for a screenplay, but what I really want to do is write something that I could feasibly shoot and that just hasn't happened yet for me.
I also feel like I should be doing standup, but it is quite the same thing. I haven't really been able to think in jokes. I've written some stuff I could see doing in a set, but nothing that I would consider jokes. I listen to Marc Maron all the time and he says he just goes up and basically tells stories and makes his stuff up on the spot, I wonder if this is the way for me to do it, to sort of fall in to the comedy. It works for me when I'm doing improv and I still totally feel like I can do improv. Creating on the spot has never been a problem for me. When I have an assignment, I always do well, like this blog, this started out as an assignment. I think what I need to do is take some screenwriting class or something. I just wish I had the drive, ambition, mainly discipline. I literally couldn't even think of that word. I had to type in "what you learn in the army" in google to figure it out. What the fuck? Yeah. Discipline. I don't have any of it. I have no routine. My morning is me waking up as late as possible, rushing out the door and getting to work, where I just let things affect me all day. The thing closest to a routine is me making coffee.
I have been exercising a bit the last few weeks. I really need to do more to head off this weight gain. I was able to go to the gym down at the club my aunt and uncle belong to and do the elliptical. I liked this a lot better than running because my shins start to hurt after I run anything close to a mile. I'm not sure how long I'll be able to sneak in there, since it supposed to be only for immediate family.
I need to make some plans for this weekend, actually maybe not. I have two shows this weekend. One on Friday with Sticky Nights at a new show at the "Little Modern Theater", which I think is a new theater, because I've never heard of it before and then one with my new team, Hey, Shawty on Saturday night, so at least I will be with people early in the night and maybe we can do something after.
Tomorrow night is Thursday and I will have Mach improv, meaning I won't get to sleep until late, so I should probably get to bed. I'm going to go by the mailbox in the morning and see if I have my health insurance card yet. They have really been slacking. My coverage started in November and still no card. Come on PCIP! Get it together.
Well. This thing has kind of been all over the place. Kind of how I am feeling right now. Three improv shows in the next three days. I need to just chill and enjoy those shows and enjoy hanging out with people after each. All I want to do is not have to work at my job and get to do comedy all day. It is such a hard thing to accomplish and a big part of it is getting my writing mojo back. I know I could write with people, but I need to have a lot of ideas to bring to the table. It is rare right now that I think of an idea during the day. Maybe if I start thinking more about it, they will start to come. Maybe not. Maybe I just need to start writing one of my vague ideas and it will get more specific. Just feels weird for me. I used to get ideas that felt so extremely specific and fleshed out, even if they weren't.
Perception is an extremely important thing. How you perceive the world totally affects how the world interacts with you. When you feel like you own the world, it is that much easier to own it, when you feel like you can't do anything, it is a self-fulfilling prophecy. The times I've felt super in control are the times when I am in the early throes of a manic episode. I'm sure there are some people out there that feel that way on a regular basis, you know, the kind of people that only need a couple hours of sleep at night and seem to have everything so together and have such self-discipline at going after what they want.
I love to sleep. I love to eat. I love to sit around and watch the NBA on TV. I love to go on the computer and fuck around for hours. I let shit pile up in my room. I let my car get dirty on the inside and out. I let the papers in my office build up. Sometimes I don't shower. Sometimes I don't brush my teeth (always brush at least once a day though, not a total slob). I love doing those things. Those things make life worth living, well some of them. Some of them are just part of who I am and I like who I am. If I really had discipline, would I be more miserable with my shitty routine and life that was almost the same? Or would I be super successful and happy because I would be more accomplished? I don't know. I can't be too hard on myself. I work ten hour days. I work hard almost every day. My life is good and I have been happy recently. Really truly happy. Now that I have that, I want to take things to the next level, not to the next level of happiness, but to set myself up so I can truly feel accomplished. I have high expectations for myself, based on what I thought I was going to do with my life, what others thought I would do with my life, and what my friends are doing with their lives. I'm not quite where I want to be and the steps for how to get there aren't exactly clear. There are a lot of different routes, right now I feel like I am stretching, reaching, flailing around trying to grasp whatever is out there. What I should do is trust myself and trust what has worked for me in the past. Some people get by on discipline and focus. I have always sat back and assumed that the answers would come to me. I haven't done that lately. I need to sit back and be ready to attack when the time is right.
That's what I'm going to do. So I guess I do have a lot to write about after all.
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