This morning, I saw an empty can of Budweiser laying in my front lawn. I didn’t take the time to pick it up this morning as I rushed to work. It lay there all day, under my tree, collecting pollen and bugs until I got home and had the chance to pick it up and throw it into my recycling. First it was meth, now it’s cans of cheap alcohol (last week was wine-spritzers). The neighborhood is upgrading to more legal forms of self-medication. I write this as I sip on half a bottle of cheap-red-wine, pulled from the bottom shelf of the local grocery store. I write this, because my other option is to continue to feel sorry for myself, crawl into bed before 9pm, and sleep. Admittedly, I need sleep, my average of 4-5 hours a night is really taking its toll. But the part of me that can’t fully experience “down-time,” has convinced me to do something with my life tonight. So, I write.
For years, I wrote in a (different) blog, every single night. About life. About love. And about the business that I carefully built and nurtured for five years. But life moves on and I wouldn’t be where I am today without that business and without closing that business to create a different life for myself. A life that is so vastly different from the one I started when I moved to Boise in May of 2005. Back then I was married, I owned my own business, I rented a shitty half of a duplex, I cooked three well-rounded meals a day, and I was unhappy. There were definitely moments of happiness and my goodness nothing can match working for yourself - it was rewarding and difficult all at the same time, but being my own boss was extraordinary. And still, I craved more. I always have. It’s a thing with me.
That craving has become unbearable over the last seven months. It started in October after a two-week business trip binge. In two weeks I traveled from Boise to Palo Alto, to San Diego, to Atlanta, then back to Boise. Less than a month later I was in Seattle, followed by Hawaii. A month later I was in New York. Then came Vegas. California and South Carolina were next. Then Cambodia (along with quick stops in China and South Korea), and again Vegas. And now I’m looking at canceling my next trips to California and New York in June, because life changes, things happen, and our focus readjusts (also, work requires me to stay in Boise). That craving for more is still there, and travel fills in pieces of that craving, but there are still pockets of want and desire. Pockets that when left unfilled, torture my soul. That sounds a bit dramatic. There are more important things in life than needing to fill my soul, and I recognize that, but if I don’t attempt to fill those voids, I lose the parts of myself that are inherent to my person, my growth, and my life.
This past weekend, I told my ex-boyfriend to move out. We have been living together for almost two years. The last seven months, we’ve been living together as roommates, not romantic partners, and I have to say that these have been some of the more difficult months of my life. Imagine living with someone whom you love so very deeply, but you just can’t be with them romantically. I won’t get into it, that’s too much and too personal for this public forum, but I tried to change my outlook on what a “normal” relationship should look like. I did my best to adjust my views on relationships. This is 2019, NOTHING is like it was when we were growing up in the 80’s and 90’s. The world has changed, but my values haven’t. And I value myself too much to live with someone who didn’t want me as a romantic partner. So yes, I’m taking time for myself tonight to self-medicate on cheap-ass wine even though my therapist told me not to. I’m not getting wasted, I’m just enjoying letting my brain get a little mushy, and my fingers get a little loose, so that I can write this blog post tonight, and regret it when I wake up.
I write tonight and I write all of this, because I want to document my journey into a new life for me. Last night (Thursday), I hosted my first meeting for a film festival that I’m building, creating, and plan to host in Boise in the spring of 2020, and beyond. I gathered friends and filmmakers to join me for a conversation and a sharing of ideas. We all walked away ready for the future of bringing films to Boise. Films that make a difference to an audience that doesn’t realize yet what we’re missing in this little town. Make a Difference Film Festival launched last night as an idea that is coming to fruition through passionate and like-minded individuals who support and appreciate film, nonprofits, and supporting our community. This film festival will be the start to a lot of change in many lives.
I’m not doing this because I’m bored. I’m not doing this because I need to keep my mind off of my past relationships. I’m not doing this to heal myself. I’m doing this because I see a need, I see an avenue to share film, and I want to promote Boise’s film and nonprofit communities and I think I have the right idea to make that happen. Also, I’m ready to be my own boss again.
I could write more. I could write about my recent relationship, or the relationships I’ve had with various people over the last seven months who have shaped me in ways I could have never imagined. I could write more about my successful film festival meeting last night. Or I could write about how I’m in the process of selling my current house and buying a new one because I’m ready for that change in my life too. I still live in the house I bought with my ex-husband and the dark negativity in this place is enough to make anyone want to leave. The house is fine (I say to any future investors), but the energy that has been built up in here for the last 6-years has really made this a difficult place for me to call “home.” Plus, I hate split levels, I always have. You walk in and you’re immediately forced to make a decision. Do I go upstairs? Or do I go downstairs? And how do I shut this door because there’s no room for my body and this door to close! I could write about the energy that alone creates - to be forced to make a decision as soon as you step one foot into this house. But I won’t, because I think that’s pretty obvious. Plus, I’m now out of wine.