It started back at the end of February when my roommate came to me with, "serious news." I can honestly tell all of you now I had been extremely unhappy living with him and lived on eggshells the entire time. I was waiting for him to rip me a new one or kick me out for reasons completely unknown to me. Then he said, "I want to move."
At that very moment I was researching grad schools. Tired of the job search and still unsure of what I really wanted to do, I knew grad school was always an option. Not that I want to kill time; I've always wanted to further my education--I just couldn't decide in what.
When he told me this the first thing that swelled in me was joy. I had been praying for months about the situation and scared to do anything myself so I switched my prayers by asking God that he would make it so my roommate would want to leave--leaving me in a less vulnerable position than I already was.
Two days later God answered my prayers.
I had to contain my joy and thoughts began to swirl throughout my mind. Where will I move to? What will I do? If I do go to grad school next year, what until then? Stay? Struggle? Michigan (hell no!)? Then I made a decision that would change everything.
I have been wanting to go to Europe for years and have regretted not doing it. Even before plans to move to L.A. were conceptualized, I had teased myself with the idea. I had even called a friend, panicking, a month before I decided to move telling her how there was a strong urge telling me to go to Europe. To which she responded, "There's no wrong choice here. Either way, you can't lose."
But the same fears that had held me back for years held me back again--do I travel or get my career started? And if I travel, what if I come back and am right where I started? I would go back and forth--fearing that travel would stagnant my career and fear of a career would hold me back from travelling.
So I regretfully stayed in Michigan the past couple years doing neither. It then took twenty-five hundred miles and six months for me to realize what my heart truly wanted.
So I'm taking all my savings I saved for L.A. to Europe where I will get fat, (hopefully) make out with a lot of hot foreigners, then pray about the guilty feelings that ensue. I may come back broke but the experiences will be priceless.
I first told close friends who were all thrilled about my decision. Even though I had been doing well in L.A., I was still unsure of what I wanted. One friend said I probably wouldn't feel content anywhere or in anything until I got this out of my system.
I feared telling my parents as they were finally adjusting to and respectful of my life in L.A. and one hint of doubt will send them into urging me to come back home to stay. I didn't want them to think I was flaking out and not hacking it, I just believe everything happens for a reason and something told me this is your chance--take it!
I kept telling people, while I'm man free, baby free, and job free--now's the time. Better do it before I'm "tied down."
I said this to my acting teacher on the last day of class. I had to play a woman who was dying which had an odd effect on me because I began to wonder more what I would do and where I would be if this were the case. I decided I would love my body more and therefore didn't wear Spanx under my dress for class. The role, the new place in my life--they all told me I was alone and had to make some choices.
My teacher seemed apprehensive. He graciously believes I have a future in acting and questioned my decision. He wondered if I was impulsive, compulsive, or unsure of what I want.
I told him that was it. I don't know what I want and I need to figure that out. He then told me that if I only get tastes of everything I'll never know what I want from that either. That perhaps, that's where I got off and bounced when things became the un-new.
This could be so or it could not be. I began to cry to the class and admitted I have no fucking clue what I'm doing or who I am. I have no idea what I want and it scares the crap out of me. I do know what I don't want and will do whatever it takes to stay clear away from it. I told them I had to go and figure this out as well as heal some wounds I didn't realize still existed. Things I had only discovered since moving to L.A..
When I told me sister about Europe she was thrilled for me. But she warned me, telling me I had spent the first 5 minutes defending my decision. She sounded frustrated and sad telling me to stop doing that--that I don't need to be. That if I'm happy with my choice, others will be as well. My father said the same thing. It seems that over the years I've become so afraid of what people will think and say that I immediately defend any decision I make.
My dad kept saying, "You worry about what people think too much."
No shit, Dad. People keep telling me this or things like this. Many of my readers have told me I'm writing too much about the past where I hold a lot of regrets and guilt. They tell me to stop doing it. Like you can just stop being who you are with the snap of their fingers. Like I should write what they want.
I snapped and told my dad, "I know this! I know I have a fear of judgement of others and I explore my life so I can figure out why. I am trying to figure out how I became this way and why I let it affect me so much."
My dad suggested I get it from him and my mother--this fear of being wrong which would lead to complete annihilation. He also said he didn't know the babysitter used to abuse me. Why he brought this up confused me. I had never talked about this much with my parents, especially my father. My mother had told him.
Since talking to my dad, I began to bring it up with more people I trust. I had never realized that what I went through was violent bullying. I always thought that admitting this or even claiming this would make me weak and chicken shit. "You think you got problems" the voice in my head says. "This is nothing. Now get your shit together and quit complaining!"
I told my dad about the time the little boy across the street stuffed a pillow over my face and sat on it. He and all the other kids laughed. I couldn't breathe and was freaking out but couldn't get them off me. I didn't know what they would do, all I knew was that it felt like I was going to die. An this was the norm.
My dad being the social worker he is said, "And you thought that if you told anyone they would say you were wrong."
So I kept quiet for the first half of my life--afraid of being wrong and afraid of what happened to tattletales. I had never felt safe and I've spent most of my life feeling this way. I haven't always been the goofy, fun Helena. I was once a very quiet, very scared girl.
Don't get too loud. Don't take too long. Don't say this, say that. I noticed this more when my friend visited this past week how hyper-aware I am of the people around me and what their needs are. I used to be a people-pleaser but I thought I was out of that phase of my life. But this wasn't people pleasing, this was on the verge of OCD guilt to the point that when I had sold my furniture, I felt guilty about a person who had wanted to buy everything so I offered to GIVE them some of my other stuff. My friend laughed and said I didn't owe him anything; that I was acting like I had cheated on him.
And this is me everyday--giving myself until there is nothing left because heaven forbid I leave anyone behind or offend anyone. I can't even get a funny look without wondering if I did something wrong.
Guilt, shame, fear of being wrong... My dad suggested I see the holistic healer one last time before I left L.A.. I made an appointment immediately.
When I met with the healer I told her all of this--the conversations with my dad, sister, friends, and teachers--and as we dove further into my defenses, I opened up about being unable to make my own decisions. More than not knowing what I want, I had gotten to the point where I need to consult every Tom, Dick, and Harry for every decision I make. It's not about not wanting to grow up, I just felt I had to.
"What do you gain from that?" She asked.
"Nothing!"
"Obviously you're gaining something from this or you wouldn't keep doing it. There's a secondary gain. Like people dealing with obesity. They experience a secondary gain from eating. So what's your secondary gain?"
Fuck she's good. "I guess that if it's other people choosing my life, I can't be blamed for being wrong."
All together now, "What will happen if you're wrong?"
It's funny. Over the years, when life gets stressful, I'll joke with friends about how I feel like I'll melt and die but all joking aside, there is a lot of truth to this. Whether I want to or not, sometimes I really feel like I'm just going to disintegrate.
So how do I deal with this? She told me to look for examples in my own life in which I thought positively and therefore made things happen. All the power I've had over my life, the prayers that were answered when I truly believed, and the times I was happy when I decided I would be just that.
Then we talked about this whole "tied down" thing I kept bringing up. The problem isn't a fear of commitment because I am very loyal and committed to those I love and who love and respect me in return (albeit I may choose men I know it won't work out with); but even with a career there seems to be this looming fear of what will happen if I completely leap into one job. After digging and digging and talking about the things I don't want she relaxed back and asked, "What do you think when you see people who are committed to careers and/or in committed relationships?"
"...I'm going to sound so mean."
"Just be honest with me."
"I think they're pathetic. Their lives look boring, loveless, filled with divorce and infidelity. People hate their jobs and live with all the things they wish they could do, have dreamed of doing, and make excuses for not doing them yet."
Oh my god I just said that.
She then reminded me of how I had told her the last time we met that I had dated men I could've married--who were decent enough and our life would've been good enough--but I wanted more. I want the fairy-tale. I know there will be good and bad days but I want the good to outweigh the bad. I want to be in love until death do I part. I want a job with meaning and purpose--that I will be proud of.
I then told her people often tell me I have too high of standards.
"Most people don't have high enough! That's why there are so many divorces and infidelity because people just settle for good enough and stay in their comfort zone. We live in a world where people let fear overcome and settle for what's here and now, even if it's not what they want."
So I asked her, "but does it exist?" She told me that it does exist. That she has clients who are in their 80's who still make love and who open doors and kiss in public.
"But it's so rare!"
She said it is rare because most people settle but it does exist.
She gave me homework to find/research couples, authors, actors, artists who have settled down without settling and are still happy with what they do and what they have. She also encouraged my trip to Europe and told me to acknowledge the differences in love and marriage there as well.
As far as everything else goes, I wasn't to worry about that. I have a problem in which I try to figure out my whole life in an hour. I told the healer all the plans I worried about: Grad school? Europe? Do I move? Do I store my things? Do I move back? What if this, what if that?
You don't have to be a rocket scientist to know what this all means about me and why this is a hopeless thing to do. Anything could happen, but for now, I was leaving. She wished me well and sent me on my way, excited for the person who will return from Europe, having changed so much in L.A..
With a one-way to Dublin that takes off in a month, I left her office and prepared for my friend to arrive. My excitement turned back to discouragement having to deal with my roommate and moving. The stress had been so bad I forgot my brother's birthday.
Two days before I moved I broke down to my friend. I told her I was scared. Scared I would never make it in anything. Scared I'd die alone. Scared I'd never have health insurance. Scared because life is really tough and there's no sugar-coating it. Scared because I'm not very good at it. Scared because people keep telling me to have faith then guilty because I question God. Scared this will have all been for nothing. Scared to write and have more people tell me to quit living in the past. Scared I'll have to move back to Michigan. Just scared and at my wits end.
Remind myself of the truth... The truth is first and foremost that I'm not writing for you. I write for me. I have regrets. Regrets are natural and they're the lining of my thick skin. I like to look back on who I was and how far I've come because if I can't fully love my present self I can love my past self.
I can hug her in dreams and hold her face in my hands and tell her, "It's okay beautiful one. You are capable of so much." I can tell the scared little girl, naked and ashamed, that one day she will go so far and fly so high. That one day she would slide down mountains and laugh with strangers. How she would one day fall in love. A love that would make her feel like a gummy bear, chewy and sweet.
That the men who filled her heart would leave it just as empty. I'd tell her she would have more pain and that there would be days she wouldn't want to live. Days she would contemplate taking her own life.
Then I would tell her she is in control. That she can leave. That no matter how many people try to hold her down, they can't because she's just that strong.
I've spent years feeling guilty for living my life and enjoying my blessings. I'm not going to anymore. I'm in control. This is the truth. I left Michigan and didn't melt. It's one more fear I can eliminate.
My friend and I packed my car and I headed for Michigan early. I just wanted to be done with the stress. I'm stopping in Texas and Tennessee to see family, then Michigan for a couple weeks until I leave for Europe.
Along the way I stopped in a town I had always wanted to explore, but never had. I popped into a bar to have a bite when a man sat down and began to chat with me. He told me how it had been three years since he and his wife had had a drink there. He then added, "She died."
He was on a pilgrimage to fulfill their dreams of becoming winter Texans, get to know people, and grieve. He was a writer for the end of times. He had three daughters and a son whom he lost after his 21st birthday.
He said, "I was able to get through that but I don't think I'll be able to get through this." Then he dove deep and got his face close to mine and said, "She was my other half. My other half has been taken from me." As he teared up, so did I as he told me how incredible she was and how they were that couple everyone would look at in public, nauseous from how happy and in-love they were.
I asked him if it had ever changed as they got older.
"No. We were in love til death do us part."
I apologized to my brother about his birthday. I felt terrible about it. He told me not to worry and that he was praying for my situation. He wrote, "At least you tried."
People keep saying this but I'm not leaving L.A. because it didn't work out. I'm leaving because I've learned the truth does exist and I'm going to go find my own truth.
So don't tell me at least I've tried because... I'm still trying.
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