As I mentioned in my previous post, I have a lot of 'D' words that I could blog about, and therein lies my dilemma. Many of the things that are worth knowing about me start with the letter 'D.' So, because I'm tired and don't have the energy to make decisions, I'm going to give you a drive-by of my 'D' words, so you have a sense of where my head is:
D is for Death I think about death constantly, especially since my father passed just over a year ago. I think about his death and I think about my death. There is a lot to unpack there.
D is for Divorce
I am a child of divorce. My parents divorced when I was six and my sister was four. It was the 70s and my father had sole custody. This was before Kramer vs. Kramer made single fathers trendy. As I close in on nearly two decades without any intimate relations with my husband, I wonder if divorce is something in my future or if I've just grown too comfortable with the way things are.
D is for Diabetes
Right before I turned 40, I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. It changed my life and I often find myself wishing that I had begun living with diabetes when I was a child. To live 40 years without having to manage what I eat (or don't eat) and then to suddenly have to worry about sugar and insulin has been, quite literally, life-altering.
D is for Directing
I have a deep passion for the theatrical arts, as you will hear more than once if you are a regular reader. As you can imagine, directing is a lot of work. Directing musicals is even more work. I was getting to the point where I was directing 2 to 3 shows a year whilst holding down a full-time job. It was becoming too much, so I stopped directing and started acting again (something I hadn't done since college). While I do enjoy acting and have had some friends say I'm a better actor than I am a director, I miss being the creative visionary behind a show.
D is for Depression
The last five years have been tough. I often joke around and say that the last five years of my life make Jason Robert Brown's musical look like an uproarious musical comedy. I had to leave a job I'd been at for over twenty years so that I could manage my son's mental health crisis. Then there was a pandemic, during which I somehow managed to find employment. When that gig was over, I took a job that paid $30K less a year than I was making, only to lose that job two years later. My father died, I came to terms with my alcoholism, my kids moved out, my sister moved away, I was sexually assaulted, and I'm dealing with financial issues that, quite honestly, are terrifying. Am I depressed? I feel like I should be and there are days that it gets tough. Yet, somehow, I manage to find myself waking up the next day to navigate another day. So, that's something, right?
Comments