City light. Constant motion and sound bombarding my ears, eyes and heart. The need to be on the move is overwhelming, signs declaring that we may not stand remind me that every person in this big apple must have a place to go… A destination complete with times and expectations, with duties and responsibilities. New York city is alive, and I feel it’s pulse coursing through my veins. I am a California girl, and it probably shows.
It shows in the way I look up at the towering buildings, the way my my jaw drops for window washers dancing hundreds of feet in the sky, the way I stop dumbfounded every time steam rises from the ground. It shows in my dress, soft flowerey delicate print and sandals still covered in sand from the pacific. I am a California girl through and though, but I could get used to this New York thing real quick.
I have a big day ahead, full of excitement and fun, new people and things and places and sights. First an interview with a lovely man from Harvard named John. Then off to the Mets game to search for the big giant finger I can wave in the air, I may even wear mets gear to show my love for the city. Then on a tour of the borroughs, to every party I can stand, I’ve already lined up some awesome events and fortunately the people coming with know my sobriety deal and will respect any wishes, including the one to go home.
I wrote my contract, signed and dated the thing, and have done a superb job upholding it thus far. I’ve been respectful to myself and others, as much as one can be in a place where people in suits rush by without glancing up from blackberries and iPhones. Where you can jaywalk and text at the same time without anybody telling you no. But I’ll admit, I’ve made an ammendment to the contract, anything that happens between midnight and dawn, my sleeping hours, is null and void. The contract turns into a pumpkin and is best suited or pie… But don’t tell my therapist that.
I’m excited to be here, to be present and accountable. I was going to meet up with an old porn girlfriend who also quit the biz but it seems that she is hesitant in hanging out.
Understandable but frustrating, as I’d made plans, we’d bought tickets and now she refuses to answer my calls. I suppose the biggest problem in dealing with or having relationships with people in entertainment is the narcissistic belief that the world starts and stops as we please. I know I’ve suffered from this personality disorder, as do most addicts, and that’s why I felt no shame or guilt in being late or not returning phone calls. I will do what I want, regardless of how it effects other people. But being aware of this disorder, or of the dis order behaving in such a self serving kind of way causes, makes te desire for change front and
Center. I want to be able to help people, and in doing so I must not be afraid to show up, or to call, or to do something that doesn’t serve my purpose. So while I am understanding of her failed communication, I am reminded of my old ways, and the only reason this frustrates me is because i used to act the same way. My how things have changed.
I must go now, off into the busy day, the lively streets and then into the warm sticky night.
I’ll update soon…. Not with perfection, but with my progress.