Happy Monster

I thought it was time to give y'all a little Emotional Update. You'll be glad to know that things are a-changing. I mean, really. We knew that would happen, right? You knew it for sure. I knew it deep down, even though I acted like I didn't. But it's happening. Things are a-changing.

I'm feeling more and more at home in this city. More and more I am feeling like I did the right thing moving here - if anything simply because of the experiences I'm having. I mean, even if I were to give up theatre tomorrow (which, by the way, I would rather stick hot needles in my eyes than give up theatre) this would still have been and continue to be an incredible learning experience. Something changes when you leave your family. When you leave what's comfortable and familiar. I knew that would happen, but I didn't know to what extent. I feel as if I'm getting to know myself better because I have more freedom to be myself because I am not bound to what I think is expected of me. I am not playing the role that has been prescribed to me by the people from my past. Does that make sense? (Georgie, I know you understand this.) I mean, I'm still me. I'm still fucking shy, I'm still afraid of strangers, I'm still nervous and self-conscious. But I'm not as shy or as afraid or as nervous. I'm a little bit tougher, I'm a little more selfish, I think I'm beginning to develope that kind of stereotypical New York Fuck Off attitude. I take a little less shit from people. I stand up for myself a little more. And I'm a little desensitized.


I used to walk past homeless people on the street with wide-eyed wonderment - sometimes with fear, always with pity. Now I walk past them and don't even blink. I used to feel terrible if I walked by a panhandler without giving them money. Now they ask for money and I bite my lip so I don't tell them to go get a job like the rest of us. I walked into a Starbucks yesterday to treat myself to a latte on my way to class (I never go to Starbucks, it's too expensive, so this really was a major treat and I was excited about it and in a huge hurry) and laying on the floor in front of the order counter was a man undergoing life-saving procedures by six EMT's. It was only at that moment that I noticed the ambulance and the fire truck parked in front of the Starbucks with flashing lights. I'd walked right next to them without noticing. And do you know what went through my head as I stood there, in front of this possibly dying person? "Damn it. This is the only Starbucks within 10 blocks!" And then I walked out and went to a deli. I was standing in line at the deli before I realized I hadn't even given a thought to the hurt human being lying on the floor of a Starbucks. Six months ago I would have been reduced to tears. I would have stopped and prayed. Now I'm just irritated that they disturbed my coffee run. That's maybe a little messed up, no?

And yet, in all honesty, I'm kind of relieved. I'm sick of carrying the weight of the pain of the world on my shoulders. That guy was being taken care of, there was nothing I could do about it, move on. Why get upset? In this constantly moving, bustling, whirling, over-whelming city, I've seen so many messed up things. A teenager with his head bashed in and blood running down his back. A young woman ODing on a subway platform, screaming incomprehensibly, fighting off the EMT's. A man bragging to a group of his friends, "Man, she told the cops I raped her! I didn't rape her. The bitch wanted it." I watched a man collapse on the street in the middle of on-coming traffic. But these things are nearly every day occurrences, certainly weekly occurrences, so they barely even touch me. It's like I turned something off - as if there was a little Empathy On/Off switch and I just flipped it off. I'm not proud of this - part of me thinks, "What kind of person have I become?" And part of me is just really relieved.

There are too many people in this city, too many personal tragedies on a daily basis, we are too exposed to one another in every moment. I cannot allow myself to be enveloped anymore. I just don't have the energy. I think that's part of why I was so miserable this summer - I was carrying around every sad thing, every mess, every tiny disaster I came across. Now I don't notice the shit and the stains and the stink and the tears and I'm happy. Maybe that makes me a monster, but at leat I'm a happy monster.