The Little Red Haired Girl

I've been experiencing periodic pangs of regret since my last entry. But really, not so much. I have squashed those with exhilaration having finally embraced an unflinching honesty. Now, more than ever in my life, I need to live by this code.

I say regret because I feel I may have overstated my situation. No, I'm not planning to back peddle up shits creek; I feel so freed by the release of some of my demons. And even I'm insightful enough to acknowledge the coincidence of releasing this information on the eve of my 40th birthday. I think, nay, I KNOW I wanted to scare myself with that defibrillatory blog revelation. Fear stops your heart, sends your adrenaline racing and plunges you headfirst into one decision. Fight or flight.

Well, one guess what I'm gonna do.

Milestones can be so cheesy. "Oooh. You're 40." "Over the Hill." "40 is the new 30." GAWD.

So subconsciously planned or not, I guess I wanted that figurative "clean slate moment" that we associate with cheesy events like New Year's Eve. My extremely outward revelations trigged not only an outpouring of responses that astounded, but an inner turmoil that I'm desperately attempting to love; simply because it is mine.

Indeed, I believe I exaggerated a bit when I labeled myself an addict. Am I recognizing addictive tendencies within myself? YES.

Am I sober 95% of the time? YES. At least.

Am I stealing prescription pads? NO.

Ordering on line? NO.

Do I need rehab? NO.

Do I exceed my dosage? YES.

What I am seeing within myself are the beginnings of habits that ultimately caused the downfall of my young father...and perhaps deeper than that, my estrangement from my Mum and brother...But, even I'm not ready to talk about that one.

SIGH.

When I was first prescribed migraine medication it was 1991, and I was to take 1-2 tablets every 4 hours when a migraine first hit. If you know anything about drugs, alcohol; you know that the same amount after 17 years is not going to have the same effect. Your body becomes immune. And if you know anything about migraines, you know that you start to panic if you can't control the initial onset.

Migraines can last for days and are completely debilitating. They do not even closely resemble headaches. If you don't know if you have ever had a migraine, trust me, you have never had a migraine. Not only are my migraines hereditary, but I get brutal headaches from the side effects of all my drugs. Now that I feel tired, weak, headache-y, it's been so hard to get to the gym-which has many times been my salvation in the past.

So, when I got a migraine, the prescribed dose was no longer enough to help. So I took more. I suppose part of me knew that was wrong, but it's really difficult to rationalize anything when your head feels like it's in a vice-being squeezed by a wolf- who is also sitting on top of your head-and howling at the moon incessantly. Oh, and you can't see and you vomit a lot, too.

Am I justifying my behavior? ABSOLUTELY NOT.

I'm just not sure what kind of help I can get now, because my existing medication no longer helps at the right dosage and it is the safest one for me to be on. When I was in Cedars in February, they had to give me morphine one time for a migraine incurred by one of the anti viral/chemotherapy IV drugs I received. And believe it or not, even that didn't completely take away the pain.

Migraines...not so much fun...

(I do have a funny story about how I fainted, post-morphine, on the phone with my doctor, peed my pj's, and woke up with 5 nurses helping me into bed...but maybe some other time...)

Kevin and I have talked very frankly about all this. And he's in this with me. And together, I believe we will find a way out of this...

And now, for my Velveeta moment. I have been thinking about each and every one of you who called, e-mailed, left Facebook notes. For me, there has been something about this level of communication that has thrilled me deeply. Honest words, no holds barred, support unconditional and beyond it all, has been a precious peek into all of your souls. If this is just the beginning of what the fruit of unflinching honesty can bear, then I'm sowing the seeds along a new and slowly emerging path in my life.

I am gently suspecting that I have already made more of an impact in my life as a writer (OK, a BLOG writer) than any one moment as an actress. This excites me. This pushes me. This allows me to dream again. And this is because of the power of communication, in whose power I have always believed in. Always fought for. And fought against my intolerance of others who can't seem to tell the truth. Who live in superficial bubbles. Ostriches with their heads in the sand.

And so I wonder about those I haven't heard from. Are they judging me? Do they no longer want to be my friends? And then of course, I realize whose problem that is. The sad truth is, that judgments come from those who are blinded by the light being reflected back at them from the mirror you hold up to their lives.

So, that's cool.

When I was 8 years old, I wanted to be an actress. But above that, I wanted to be a storyteller. Maybe, through this blog, and all of your incredible support, I am finding a twisty-turny way back to that little girl's dream after all.

And so, ladies and gentlemen, my 40's have already turned out to be the best fucking decade yet!