Hey hey, What are you grateful for?

The latest post of A Year After Surviving is here to show how thanks just doesn’t cut it some times.

Check out the preview below, and then become a paid subscriber at the hyperlink to support this artist:

“I came home tonight.

I watched The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel.

I took a nap.

I allowed the warm water of a shower to pour over me and wash off the white make up of the day.

I sat down and wrote with a martini to comfort my buzzing mind and stirring heart.

…just as I did so very often over six years ago, when I lived another life.

I was in the last national tour of Cabaret- I’ve mentioned that before, right?

I was cast in my absolute dream role of The Emcee and I went on the road for over six months, traveling almost constantly with a new hotel room almost every night…and I had slowly descended into a state of utter depression and self-annihilation, until I lost nearly all hope in the theater and in myself.

Now, to be fair, this wasn’t all due to the production team that utterly refused to see a single artistic decision I made as valid, the supporting cast that openly mocked me and turned on me, nor the critics that lambasted me and who’s critiques were thrust under my nose by our tour manager- I did also drink more than I ever had, try to numb my anxiety with weed instead of therapy, and completely refuse to take long-term joy in any moment that I experienced…so there was blame to share.

So, I ended every night completely and utterly exhausted from taking on a role that psychologically drained me in an environment nearly devoid of support.

I drank to silence the disgusting and violent thoughts that flashed through my head as I readied myself to die on stage every single night.
I cried in the shower as my cake makeup washed off, more often cleansed by my hot tears than by the warm, soapy water.

And, while I did so often have a dirty gin martini and watch a show that romanticized the crap our of my, at the time, chosen profession…those actions never added any value beyond the moment in which I performed them like some mindless religious ritual…unlike tonight.

I went to Comic-Con today. My writing mentor and very good friend Stephen Dolginoff has invited me and so very generously provided me with VIP tickets for three years in a row now, and I have sequentially invested more and more into participating, purchasing, and- most importantly- cosplaying with each attendance. This year I was dressed as Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, and I got to listen to Sigourney Weaver speak, listen to a panel of fellow writers give me advice on growing my career, and get an autograph and words of affirmation from George R. R. Martin himself…and I floated home on a cloud.

This exhaustion is only physical.

This cocktail is purely celebratory.

This night time shower feels divine and is tear free.

So, what’s the difference?”…