Putting My Anger To Work

To keep true to my commitment to blog daily for a year since the now infamous “suicide blog,” I’m going to bang out a few words tonight but I promise I’m going to keep it brief. I’m headed back to Utah on Saturday for three weeks. That’s where I was when I got to my low point on September 1 last year. Maybe I’m a little nervous about that and that could explain why I’m not quite feeling “up to par” tonight. Being in Utah will always remind me (at least a little bit) about why I moved there in the first place.

The depression is pretty bad of late. I’ve been back on Wellbutrin for three weeks now and I’m hoping it will make a difference. I don’t want something that will make me feel so happy I lose my activist’s will to make a difference. My disquiet with the state of the world in the past has been what got me off my ass enough to do the things I’m most proud of. But since honesty has been the hallmark of this relationship I’ve developed with you through the blog, I will say that— well, I already said it, the depression has been heavy lately. I decided to take the antidepressant (which I hate the idea of doing) just to get a toe hold on the wall I’m climbing.  Maybe getting out of Alabama for three weeks will help. I’ll be back here for a week after that and then it’s off to New York to demand that the city except me back. I have no idea how that’s going to work itself out by the way, but I’m determined that it will. If I have to live in Washington Park with my two dogs and cat by by god I will. Actually it’s God I’m relying on so I don’t think I’m going to end up living in the park. I believe God has better plans than that for me.

I had been working towards and planning for living in New York for the past eight years (previous to this year of living in Alabama to help my family) and I’m not going to let the fact that I got robbed in that partnership arrangement keep me from living in the city where I belong. It’s my Apple goddammit and no one is going to take it from me— especially him. His karma is on its way. I’m doing as much spiritual work as I can because I don’t want one ounce of me to celebrate when that happens. I just want to feel sad for him and wish him the best. But that day is coming. Mark my words.

In truth, none of what’s not the way I want it to be in my life is anyone’s fault but my own. I am where I am based on decisions I made and that’s a pretty hard pill to swallow. Even getting into that relationship, which I should never have been in in the first place, is a textbook case of self-will run riot. I wanted something. I knew better. I did it anyway. How many times in my life has that been the case? Even since getting sober, so very many times I have known what was the “next right thing to do” and I did the opposite simply because I wanted to feel good in that moment and did not want to sit with pain to be able to enjoy a greater level of peace down the road. I was thinking today— what if I had spent half the time I’ve spent over the years seeking or having sex working toward my goals instead? I really do— and as arrogant as this may sound it is not hyperbole— I really do think I would have an Oscar or a Tony by now. For that matter, any of the other goals on that list of ten (I’m going to post them again at the end of this blog so we can all be reminded of them) would probably be a reality already. And again, I said half the time I’ve spent chasing immediate gratification through (often anonymous) sex. That’s embarrassing to admit but hell, by now y’all know everything else about me— why not go all the way?

If I had been a good steward of the wealth I did incur over the years instead of compulsively spending it to “feel better right now,” I wouldn’t have any financial problems. I really believe that. Even if I went to just my Amazon shopping history over the past five years (I recently did this) and looked at all the inane bullshit that I simply “had to have” in that moment— I don’t even know where some of that shit is now! Most of it’s packing my closet or stacked in piles or lost.

My body would look exactly like I want it to look if I hadn’t, time after time, after making a commitment to exercise in a certain way or eat a certain way, gone back to smoking, started taking several days off from working out, or my all time favorite: trying to make my head feel better by eating a bunch of shitty foods which actually do make me feel better— for about five minutes— then the crash— then the resulting damage to my body.

See? This is all my doing. I’m not struggling in any of the ways that I’m struggling because I’m gay or because I was bullied as a child or because I have troubling ramifications from my time at  war or because my parents weren’t perfect or because I’m an alcoholic or because my ex-husband stole from me and hit me or because I wasn’t born rich or— the list goes on ad infinitum. If that were true, there would be no one out there who had all that same shitty stuff happen to them and are enjoying a happy and fulfilled life! And you know what? There are! I’m struggling because of my decisions and the way I set out to cope with all these things.

It’s time for me to put the anger about my marriage and divorce to work for me. I prayed to simply have it removed because I’m warned by other sober folk that if I can’t get rid of the anger, I’ll drink. But as I’ve shared with you before, the answer to that prayer so far has been “not yet.” I’ve even prayed to stop thinking about it altogether and the thoughts keep coming. I’m willing for this to change anytime (now would be great) and I’m willing to do whatever “work” needs to be done to finally be passed it. Up until this morning (and as I said I am completely hopeful that tomorrow it won’t be this way) but I am usually not awake for one minute in the morning before I think about how he “fucked me over” (his words actually, not mine). Part of it I think is because thinking about what some real-life asshole really actually did to me is a helluva  lot easier than thinking about what my part in my problems is.

I want to do better. I want to be better. I find self-pity absolutely disgusting especially in myself. Lately I’ve felt like I was so caught up in my distress that I’ve been having trouble taking the steps to get out of the depression. That’s what you call a Catch 22. But as so many people have reminded me lately, I’m “a warrior” and I will literally keep trying until I succeed or I drop dead.

Oh right, I had mentioned that I’m now going to try putting the anger to work. First, I’ll say again, I want to move beyond the anger— I’m willing to move beyond the anger— but the next time I feel my blood start to boil when I find myself thinking about him being in a “yours, mine, and ours financially arrangement with his new husbands— so that means that his husbands are part owner in the rental property I bought into in Salt Lake (Adam made me half owner when I saved it from foreclosure— a handshake deal— a handshake with a thief is worth a sweaty palm and nothing more) and they are also now to benefit from Adam’s MD which I paid into in so many more ways than just financial.

So when the fears come up and I’d really rather not do the action items that I know will see my dreams come to fruition, when I find myself wanting to jack off instead of make that call to a producer about my next play— I’ll just think of Adam and Phil and John yucking it up around the dinner table in the home that I helped pay for and I will go right back to work. Fuck those bitches.

I am going to build my empire on a foundation of cement made from the powered bones of liars and thieves— not just for me, but for every good person who ever got fucked over by an evil one.

See y’all tomorrow.

Here are my revised goals as of January 1, 2015:

1. I own a residence that I love in NYC.

2. I weight 260 lb. and have 15% body fat.

3. I lift or do CrossFit six days per week.

4. I write for four hours every day.

5. I have written 25 movies, 10 TV shows, 25 plays.

6. I am the man of my dreams and I’m married to the right and perfect husband for me.

7. I head a successful production company.

8. I make $110K or more every month.

9. I live off 10% of my income and direct the rest to do good on the planet

10. I I head a very successful non-profit that helps Iraq and Afghanistan veterans. We teach Pure Peer Support techniques, host weekend retreats, sponsor creativity workshops, and offer paid internships in the entertainment industry to Iraq and Afghanistan veterans helping them to find work that fulfills them and sustains them financially. It has  big, beautiful workspaces and headquarters in New York City.