ticking, like a time bomb in my chest, or head..

"The only reason I remembered this play was because it ... had a mad person in it, and everything I had ever read about mad people stuck in my mind, while everything else flew out. " ---Sylvia Plath The Bell Jar



I've been listening to The Bell Jar audio book, again.. and been thinking a lot about my own... self. hah

- When you come to terms with your own madness, it starts to seem like the world is crazy, not you.

- I can't hear/read about people getting Electroshock Therapy with out getting that hard lump feeling in my throat. I see the faces, the empty eyes that will fill with tears days later when talking about it.

- Some of the most truthful, brilliant things I've ever been told or helped come up with, came from people society deemed "unstable" or "crazy".

- I'm glad my first play back after years of non acting, was School of Jesus Fish. And that I could throw ideas on the table, cuz I know what really happens. That play is beauty.

- I've watched Independence Day over 100 times. Not by choice, and all within a two week time span. I used to be able to recite the lines along with it.

- Haha, I can't during one of the School of Jesus Fish talk backs I told the story about the alien guy I met. I left out seeing alien penis, but it still makes me giggle.

- There is nothing, nothing, like seeing the world for the first time and accepting that it's always been there, you just didn't get it. I still have a hard time with space/distances. I see the sky and things in the distance, and have to really force myself to understand that the sky is around us, and that the distance, is outward and not just a backdrop. But nothing will ever be like the first time I saw the world again.

- Even though I'm about to be 26 in 13 days, and have nothing to show for it outwardly.. no degree, an office job that pays by the hour, and have to move back in with my family... I don't think I could/would take back my years of crazy. I think I have a better idea of what humans are, how the brain works, and have a beauty shinning out from my insides that only falling off the edge, and slowly crawling back up, can get you.

- Sorry for all the heart to blog moments here and lately. I've totally just realized I'm 26 and don't have to hide myself any longer. Hell I'm proud. :)

PostSecret...

I've been reading PostSecret.com for years now... Every Sunday Frank updates the website with new secrets.... Some are happy, some are sad.. some are just.... random.... But I am there, every week looking at other people's secrets... and finding my own in those post cards... These have been some of my favorites for a while. I want to buy the books, but I just get so damn emotional over these things... Sigh... love ya guys...

School of Jesus Fish, reopening!

Our original flyer, designed by the fabulous Rob Dario.
Dr. Simon being a jerk to Anne (hey that's me!) He always wanted to just shut me up.

Anne's "Last Supper" if you will, if pills and water can be a supper.

Irma (Gabby), Debra/Shea (Jen), Dr. Ben (Matt), and Anne (me) goofing off backstage.

So this past fall I was in the amazing play School of Jesus Fish. This was the best show I've ever been a part of. I played Anne, sorta the lead role (score one for me!) and the show was awesome. Not only did every cast member click so well together, but the show was great. The writer even came out to see us perform, and we got quite the media buzz in the Bay Area.

Quick synopsis of the show:
Dr. Benjamin Hamilton's first patient as a therapist at St. Lucy's psychiatric ward is Anne Fencik, a woman who claims she is a prophet -- God's daughter on earth -- perhaps the "second coming." As Dr. Hamilton seeks to cure her, Ann's presence begins to have startling effects on the other psychiatric patients. Is their sudden recovery a result of a psychiatric breakthrough, or of Anne's healing?

Characters:

• Dr. Benjamin Hamilton: Mid-20s. New, uncertain.
• Franny: bi-polar, rapid and impatient
• Dr. Simon Piletti: Upside of forty. A gentle man when things are going his way, but no question he is in charge.
• Anne Fencik: delusional (?) but quite lucid.
• Irma: obsessive-compulsive with schizophrenic tendencies
• Karen Fishback: ex-musician, suffers from periodic visual hallucinations
• Debra: diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder
• Sam: 20 years old and tormented by auditory hallucinations
• Shea Fishback: sister of Karen. Professional musician

The show was extremely difficult for us doing it, hitting some strong subjects. Religion and mental disorders. And allowed the audience to make it's own decisions on if I was crazy, or really some sort of profit from god. Many of us in the show have had our lives touched by someone (if not ourselves) with some sort of mental illness, and that can make a very rough and emotional time during rehearsals and performances. We were all so very supportive of each other, and I hope most if not all of the original cast can come back for this reopening of our wonderful show.

A post about a memory.

So, this photograph was taken of me, geez.. countless years ago... 4? or so I think... I always loved the way it defined me. Below is a piece i wrote a little over 3 years ago, when I first moved to Pleasanton, when I experienced a flashback to where I spent some time that summer. I enjoy this piece because whenever i reread it... it's all completely real again. Like I'm there, with those emotions and feelings. I did a play this summer called School of Jesus Fish, that took place in a mental hospital. Many of the characters reminded me of all the great people I met when in there. I still think about them a lot...

"It was almost 4:30, I needed to shower and get out of my pj's. I turn the water on full blast, a little too warm for most people, and jump in. Having a stand-up shower can be sort of a bad thing in times like these...

Shampoo in the eyes, always, without fail, I don't know how I do it. I shut them and continue to wash, going through the motion as one normally would do. After about 3 min. I open them to find the light flooding my still stinging eyes. Instantly I clamp them shut, trying in vain to stop the pain from getting worse. This time, while my eyes are closed, the images come back.

The flashback filled the room around me, though I couldn't see it with my eyes closed. I really believed I was living in a moment already past. The cold tile floor, that never seems to be clean enough to want to stand on it. The shower not pumping water hard enough, to make you feel like it's really cleaning you. I can hear voices outside the thick door, I smell the mass produced soap, the kind that everyone has to use here. A new bar every shower, so much waste in here. I know the too small, not soft enough towels are waiting for me. One to step on, when exiting the shower, and one to wrap my shrinking frame in.

I linger in the shower longer then I should. Other patients are waiting to use this stall. Most rather use the large shower, but it's too big and open for the likes of me. Or they like the bathtub room. I'm not allowed in there... The staff have the stupid idea, that I'll try to drown myself. I wouldnt do that, not here... So I opt for the small shower room. Just big enough for the standing shower, a plastic chair to hold your clothes, and a trash can, for the shampoo, conditioner, and soap, after each shower. This hospital smells... different. I'll never forget the smell. I still havnt.

The hallway will be cold, even when I've completely dressed. You can never be fully warm, without shoes. It's the middle of Aug. shouldn't it be warm? Going into the hallway means no more privacy. There will probably be 5 or so people pacing up and down it. Even the old man, being pushed in his wheel chair.. up and down, back and forth, by polite nurses, who try in vain to have conversations with him. All he will do is drool, and yell horrible, dirty things, to her, and to the world in general. Or scream for his wife. We never found out if his wife was alive or dead... But he wanted to see her really bad. Leaving this stall means 3 juice boxes, another container of yogurt, and more snakes, waiting for me in the fridge. Neatly labled with "Jack H." which tells all the other patients to back off. They are trying to fatten me up.

When you arnt allowed to shave, you can never feel like you're getting clean, no matter how hard you scrub. Or how many long showers you take, in between meals and group therapy meetings. You long for the first shower you get, once freed from these walls. But know that when you get into that shower, you'll regret leaving the hospital so fast. Every time... It never changes.

I'm shaking, the hot water seems to run forever. So many people, showering so many times, and yet the water is still filling the room with steam. But your bones never seem to warm up, you shiver through the entire shower, knowing soon that the water will have to be turned off... And the cold will come and envelope your body... A blanket of frost that curls up around you, keeping you company. I stand letting the hot water rush over me, wishing I could stay here forever.

A door slams, I hear wheels rolling down the hall. Lunch trays... Voices get loud, heavy footsteps move down toward the day room. I hear the normal "Where's Jack? She has to eat her lunch." call. I sigh, and push the knob that turns off the shower. Take a few deep breaths, before opening my eyes.

And I'm back in my shower, here at home, in Pleasanton. Water is off, I'm shaking as the cool air moves all around me. It's time to dry off and get dressed. I'm in this world now."