(just not my fucking mouth)
Happy fucking birthday to me. Today, I am 21 years old for the second time. I have all the wisdom, energy, chill, and grace of TWO 21-year-olds. Which is A LOT. Perfection, as you can imagine.
21 the first time?
Russ Benton, Brian Baker (roommate for my time in Cedar City, UT), me, in a photo likely taken by Steve Henry, December of 1999.
Fresh-faced with cigarettes, alcohol, and Mountain Dew, in Cedar City, Utah. 21 years ago today I was recovering from a hangover. My friends and I had waited until midnight on the 25th to go out to the only bar in Cedar City where I proceeded to get rightfully shitfaced. I had moved there in 1998 to go to college and perform Shakespeare for the rest of my life. Neither worked out.
But I’ve successfully quit smoking over 10 years ago now. Soda almost the same. And I unfriended alcohol on July 7, 2017. So now I’m just a boring 21x2-year-old trying to save the world through dark theatre. Masterful plan, yeah?
I just realized it’s been awhile since I’ve dumped my brain in here. I guess I may, or may not, have been busy with some things.
So. I’m trying to save the world through dark theatre. At this time two years ago, we had finished with an experimental run and remount of Gruesome Playground Injuries and were moving forward with Season One of The Constructivists. And it went well. Then Season Two went well.
And now we’re at Season Three. But I’m not here to talk about The Constructivists, per se. I’m here to talk just a wee bit on my day of birth about the effort it took over a few years to even get to that experiment.
Because, you see, as some of you already know, I’ve been a mess. For a bit.
Well, truthfully just about my whole adult life. And a few years ago now I decided I was tired of being tired. Because I’m not sure if you know this or not, but being a mess is exhausting. The amount of energy it takes to be a disaster (especially by the time you get to your mid-thirties) can feel like you’re slogging through mud every single day. Daily mud slogging at 21 the first time is a cake walk. Approaching 21 the second time and that mud slogging can cause frequent meltdowns. Which it did.
I have one of those heads that just goes and goes and goes. It talks to me. It talks shit to me. It talks about a ton of shit. It talks shit about shit. The Jaime in my head just will not shut up. It feels like I’ve lost a year’s worth of sleep because my brain has so many things it feels it needs to talk about. Up until fairly recently, I’ve said it feels like I haven’t slept since my junior year of high school. And it only feeds that tired of being tired feeling.
But so can running from the demons. The ones that built a brick wall around my heart. The ones born out of tumultuous childhood scarred by abandonment, sadness, pain, and abuse. (read more here, and here). Then, about seven or so years ago now I bought a Groupon to try acupuncture. It was something I was always intrigued by and heard great things about within the Chicago theatre artist community. And the one I found was on my bike route home from work so I gave it a shot.
Acubalance Wellness Center of Norwood Park in Chicago was the start of the journey to clean up my act, now that I view things a bit clearer in retrospect. In the craziness that was big city living, it became the one hour every other week I took to lay down and be still. My acupuncturist Vera became my therapist and wellness guide. I would go in, she would ask how things were going – my mood, my stomach, my head – to which I would mostly answer, MEH. But I remember one day I went in and asked, “Can you treat fear?” To which Vera said, “Of course I can.”
From that day forward Vera treated me for fear, which, if you didn’t know, lives in your liver and kidneys according to Eastern medicine. Funny, if you think about how you feel less inhibited when you drink. But I was feeling stuck. Fear gripped me constantly. It has for my whole adult life. I believe doctors would call that anxiety. I didn’t even really realize that until just a few years ago.
Now I’m striving to finally find my place here on the Earth in the here and now.
Being present. Leaving the past behind. Something with which I am also largely unsuccessful to this day. My stupid spinning head. But in the past three years since moving back to Wisconsin, I’ve done better navigating it. I have a therapist I really like and see on the regular. And I’m not saying acupunture is for everyone, but I like to tell people, “Yeah, I don’t know if it works, but I sleep better, I quit drinking, and I started my own theatre company, so….”
And but for the pandemic, I would still be driving down to see Vera – sadly that has to wait. I also practice meditation and yoga on the regular, though not as regular as I’d like. Stupid spinning head needing to get things done RIGHT FUCKING NOW. And I’ve also started working with my GP and started to try some medications for anxiety and depression. I tried really, really, really, really, really, really, really hard to go the natural route. St. John’s Wort, chamomile, CBD – the whole nine. But in the end, it seems those demons just wrapped their clawed wings around my skull and refused to let go. I tried a couple that REALLY did not work for me, but now I feel kind of in a good spot. I felt for a second there at the start of the year that I was possibly really starting to get a handle on things. And then. Well. You know.
All of this is to say today, on my 21x2=42 birthday is that I am still working on it. Being me. I struggle quite a bit, but I truly want to be the best version of myself I can be. A loving wife, mother, theatre artist, friend, ally, and helping human. I want to be as healthy as I can to keep my head on straight, and be here for those who could use someone who’s been there. I want to be okay with people not liking me. And even some people really despising me. You really can’t win them all.
And I want to stop putting up with people’s bullshit. In all it’s forms.
Especially the openly racist, bigoted, xenophobic rampage we have going on right now. I want to be a person who will openly call it out in others, and openly recognize it in myself, those inherent qualities I still have from growing up in small town Wisconsin. To speak out against police officers shooting black people like Jacob Blake just two days ago. Be the change.
I want to do that in myself, in my theatre company, and anywhere else that’s within my control. I hope to write on here more often once again. I enjoy these dumping grounds so much when I can make it happen. And reach out to me if you’d like. Always. I’m always here if you need.
If I could just ask one thing for my birthday, if you could find any space to give to The Constructivists it would be much appreciated. A small but passionate group of us are trying with all our might to be a force, be it a dark one, to bring people into the world of theatre. To be a voice against the status quo. To support BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, Persons of Color) Artists, Disabled Artists, Artists of all Orientations. And do it to the best of our abilities. We have a virtual production in rehearsal right now, and with all the heart, I promise you, I will do everything I can to make great art. Always. It’s all I want to do. Make great art. Change the world. Even in a really tiny way. That’s all I ask on my four two birthday today.
Tuesday,8.25.2020