As the rest of the nation sits beneath a blanket of white fluff, I stand outside in shorts, drinking my morning coffee and smoking a cigarette. I’ve been on the west side since Tuesday night, stayed out here to hit therapy with Jill today so I’m close, and listening to the birds and little LA life that slowly creeps around before 10am, can’t help but feel I’ll end up living over here soon.
I moved to Hollywood for two reasons: one to be near Duncan so we could trudge this road of happy destiny together, and two so these idle hands wouldn’t be so idle. I was out in porn valley before, sitting
in Sherman Oaks. Regular haunts, regular life. Regular bar, dining establishment etc. I had to leave, fill my view with the bright lights and noise of Hollywood to drown out the noise in my head screaming “You’ll never make it out this would alive.” I won’t make it out this world alive, but I will make it out of porn, I have made it out of porn, and as wonderful as that is, I wonder how many other girls make it out alive. Very rarely do I hear from anybody who has left the business. And I suppose I understand why, once you cut, you sever. Entirely. It’s all or nothing.
When I used to come to Hollywood before, it was to drink and party with the lifestyle I’d become entirely consumed by. I think perhaps on some subconscious level I felt a need to prove that it isn’t the area, it’s my actions in that area. Like San Diego. Last time I moved from SD it was because I’d convinced myself that I don’t accomplish anything while living at the beach. I could take no responsibility for my lack of progressive movement, because I fell at a complete standstill. I’ve lived in Hollywood ~ sober for 9 months now ~ and it’s fairly clear that the area in which I reside has nothing to do with my behavior. It’s where my heart and head are, it’s where my intentions and motivation to accomplish goals stand. One of the best things about being sober, even if it is for 9 short months, is the ability to see my part in things. The areas in my life where I’ve fucked up, where I’ve refused to be accountable for my actions, where I’ve been at fault. It’s a heavy burden, until the street sweepers come in, and amends are an order. I’ve still a few more big amends to make, but I want to do these things in person, the phone just lacks the intimacy I need to continue down this path.
A few comments stuck with me, and a few comments get swept aside as not my own personal truth, so I let those go, give them back to the people who’ve chosen to comment here. I received a comment asking where the introspective nature of the blog went, and this question really resonates, where is the work? Where is the looking glass? When will I dig deep and continue unravelling the tightly wrapped ball of yarn that was my life? Some days, the yarn is wrapped loosely, some days I can just feel and don’t feel the need to dig and dig and dig. Some days I want to sit and appreciate the clouds, or the ocean. Other days, especially days with Karim and Jill (who I’m seeing later today), they ask a question I’ve failed to consider, and it sends me reeling, is the cause for further introspection. The last session with Karim was a catch up, hadn’t seen him in awhile so the session was about becoming up to date. Jill’s will be similar, but I’m sure some little tidbit will come from it. Something to think about.
The angry comments from random people are always interesting. Someone asked if I could filter out the bad shit… and I’ve thought about this, but think the negative comments add as much depth to the blog as the positive. I read them for what they are, a piece of information passed from one human being to another. I feel sorrow for those angry enough in their own lives to attempt to take it out on me. If that is what they need to do to feel better for the moment, I’m fine with that. There will always be nay sayers. And no matter what I do in life, or where I go, someone will always doubt the sincerity of my words or actions, and this is simply a brutal truth of life. But I don’t have to accept their words into my world. The angry words belong to them, and they can keep them. I do the best I can to answer emails from people genuine and honest in their struggles, but I can only do so much. I can offer my advice, and if they don’t feel it is right for them, then it isn’t. That is also fine. We are given free will, and to me, this means that when we reach out for help, we can either accept or deny what is offered based on whether we feel it is right or wrong for us personally. What worked for me may not work for you, and if it doesn’t, I’m at a loss for words. I cannot prescribe a method of recovery that I’m unfamiliar with, I’m not a doctor, just a recovering addict.
Speaking of recovery, there is something I’ve been tempted to write about here, but because of the newness, because it is so private, I’m not sure it’s appropriate. I’ve started exploring a relationship with someone, and I don’t want to be disrespectful to that by sharing it here before it’s really developed. But I will share this, I’ve felt a connection with him from the moment I met him, butterflies in my stomach and heart, I want to throw up every time I see his face because I get so nervous, and regardless of the year commitment, I’ve decided to explore the possibility in our friendship and relationship, I feel to run, or deny would be old behavior. My history is vanishing at the first sign of an actual connection, and usually I’ve already fucked them… This whole thing is been different than anything I’ve ever felt. I think it is healthy for me to stay and see what happens, explore these butterflies in my belly, barf in a trash can and then look through to see what’s there. I even told him I kind of want to barf around him, have been honest about my issues regarding intimacy, and closeness. That alone is a big start. Because this whole thing is so new, I’m not going to say anything more, I don’t want to be disrespectful to what’s growing between us. Which is also new.
I’ve never had a problem sharing the most graphic details of my sex life, and now I’ve met someone that I want to hold, someone I want to wake up next to, and I hesitate to write about how much I care for him. I don’t hesitate to tell him, but I do hesitate to blast it all over this blog. I suppose that is part of the journey though, exploring the development of my heart and soul.
So that’s my love, winter, LA. The lease is up in May and I think it may be time for a location change by then. Thankfully, no decision has to be made today, regarding anything. Thankfully today, I can live in gratitude.