Posted on January 15, 2010


I haven’t finished a thing since I started my life, I don’t feel much like starting now.
Walking now lonely has worked like a charm I’m the only one I have to let down.

The past 36 hours have been a roller coaster of emotions. The helplessness I felt in dealing with the bank isn’t the kind of thing that would lead me to use, although 6 months ago I’m not sure the same holds true. The tone of Jose’s voice, the uncaring and apathetic nature with which he handled me claim, the desire to murder everyone in sight who is purchasing things without a care in the world, those are the things that will lead me to drink. To not care anymore. The thought that nobody in this world cares~ and not that they don’t care about me, it’s the feeling that I’m alone in this thing, in a small struggle in the grand scheme of life~ those are thoughts that will lead me astray. The thoughts that will break me apart into a million tiny pieces. Looking back on my life, I’ve never actually been alone, have constantly been surrounded by people, but an all consuming sense of loneliness had rotted my bones, had left me cold and tired. Over nine months ago, these feelings, mixed with this slight setback, would have been my reasons for giving up. For saying “fuck it” and doing what I know to do to get by. Something I can’t even say anymore. Because it wouldn’t have mattered. I had no one to hold me accountable, no person in my life I felt cared enough for me to care. Over nine months ago, I felt I had to brave this cruel world all by myself, even if it killed me.

But watching you makes me think that that is wrong.

When I first started writing this blog, I didn’t think anybody would ever read it. Nobody knew my name, and there was no reason for any one person to stumble upon my words, my thoughts, my worries and struggles. The first three days there were no viewers. On the fourth day, over 10,000 people visited my site, and the outpouring of support left me in tears. I had never had so many people say such encouraging things, I had never had anything I’d written be recognized as something that was mine, or important. I had never been told by anyone aside from my mother (and father as a youth) that I’m inspirational, or that I matter. Suddenly I had a purpose, I had a reason to write beyond the therapy and desire to document the emotional vomit that kept spewing forth onto my computer screen. I wanted to share my story, because so many people could identify with it. Not with being an ex-pornstar, but being a hopeful human being trying her best to do what is right. The people who read this page gave me a reason to continue the journey. You made me feel like I’m not alone.

I can go on with my insecure nature I can keep living off sympathy.
I can tell all the people that all that sucks has a direct reflection on me.

I know this bank thing will be settled. I know because of the program, because I know if I’m willing to do the footwork, I will see results. It took me a little while to see that yesterday, I was so upset, and so blinded by feelings of helplessness and fear, I didn’t see the solution immediately. I hated Jose for being so cold. For not helping me. I resented him for not giving a damn about the fact I’d been robbed, and I prayed he would go home and my crying voice would be the last thing on his mind. I called my Dad, to ask him what I should do. He said he would put enough money in my account to bring it to even, we would close the account and file a police report. He told me it may seem like a small consolation prize, but the lesson in this is so much greater than the temporary struggle I’m going through. He told me “Jen, the lesson here may not be really clear right now because your eyes are filled with tears. But you will have to fight for what’s yours in life. This won’t be the last time. And it probably isn’t the first time. It’s just the first time you’ve allowed yourself the emotions that go along with having to fight for something. It’s ups and downs. But at the end of this, you will be stronger. And grateful for the ride.” I still hated Jose.

But watching you makes me think that that is wrong,

I went to bed listening to Regina Spektor’s “Hero,” dreamt of two verses, “no one’s got it all” and “I’m the hero of this story, don’t need to be saved.” A different kind of pity party, I tried to convince myself that Jose was just doing his stupid job, he probably hates his life, I’m probably not the only one he has listened to crying on the other end of the phone line. I tried to tell myself I would sell sketches to make sure the bills are covered, I can sell them cheap and they are easy to ship, and no person in early recovery has it easy. The road is not paved with gold, it’s not even yellow bricks. Sometimes its full of pot holes, closely resembling the 405, and I can either live in fear that nothing will work out and my life will crumble, or I can live in faith that things are exactly as they should be, and something higher than myself is at work here. And I’m not talking about Chase.

Will I ever know silence, without mental violence
Will the ringing at night go away?

I woke up to comments on this blog, comments from people saying they’ve been through the same thing, comments from people sharing advice on how to handle this from here on out. I woke up to the most generous donation I’ve ever received in my entire life, and it isn’t the sum that left me breathless, it’s the gesture, the selfless nature of one particularly altruistic man, and I cried for 45 minutes before calling my father. I have such a hard time reaching out for help, and even more difficult is feeling that I deserve to be helped, the donation blew me away.

It’s up to you, my father, call on me.

I called my Dad and he said he was just thinking about me. I asked him what he was thinking about and he said he was going to call me to get my account number so he could deposit some money. I said I don’t think that will be necessary, I told him about all the advice you’ve all given me here and then told him about the donation. We sat on the phone and cried together for another twenty minutes. He was amazed by the support that has been offered, and the selfless act of this one man brought him over the edge. He says it looks like the roller coaster is heading back up the hill and thanked god for these wonderful strangers that have filled my life and my heart.

From the bottom of my heart, I thank each and every one of you. I could not do this alone. I am so grateful to every person who blesses my page with their presence, and today, I owe my sobriety and my life to you. I’m not the hero of this story… You are.

Posted in: Good Days