As you can read below, work brought me to Los Angeles for almost a year. During this period of time, I stayed "dry" for 7 months with my relationship as my higher power. Once the relationship started to sour, I started drinking again. He had no idea how to handle an alcoholic boyfriend who is a real Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde, and it wasn't the type of relationship he signed up for.
We moved to Seattle for his job. He was all I had; my whole world, so when he said he didn't want me to return to Seattle, it broke my heart, and I attempted suicide. I was a burden to who I was dating, my family, and my friends. Suicide seemed like a good solution. I've been picking up the pieces since then. I found myself back in rehab in Georgia, again, but this time, it only took eight days to get me back onto my feet. I'm so grateful for everyone who has been involved in my journey. My disease has the power to grip my mind so tight that I simply cannot believe that I can stay sober from alcohol, but once I was brought to my first AA meeting in rehab on my second day, I realized AA is where I belong. The grip my disease had broke apart, and I broke down in tears and shared that I hadn't been to a meeting in 3 to 4 years, and it felt good to be back. I'm now approaching two years, and I'm so incredibly grateful.
This sobriety has been a little different. I knew I had to find a job, but because I had been burned so badly as a REALTOR in Atlanta during the housing crisis, I was weary of real estate. I applied to so many office jobs in Los Angeles and Seattle, and I even secured an entry-level position in Seattle that I had to say "Goodbye" to after only several weeks. I also continued my battle with insomnia the moment I entered rehab. I was adamant that I needed to address insomnia as rigorously as my sobriety, which could have taken a dangerous turn toward addiction to sleeping pills. But I was honest about my insomnia with my sponsor, and I was honest with my doctor and psychiatrist about my alcoholism.
This sobriety began with the decision to build a sober network of friends here in Los Angeles, and a humble attempt at acting. I was open-minded from the start, and I was still reeling from the disasters I created in Seattle and Atlanta. I felt that I didn't deserve material things, or anyone's love or support, but my parents were not going to let me fall into homelessness. With their help, I rented an apartment on the wrong side of the tracks in Hollywood. I had no money, no car, and nothing sparkly to display to the materialistically-inclined; but I had resolve, and I was determined to go to any lengths to stay sober. I was a little turned-off by the cliques at the West Hollywood Recovery Center, so I began to go to AA meetings all over the city. The Bliss Art House Cafe on Vine Street is almost a second home despite intense insecurities I felt around straight people, and people who had program time under their belts. But I kept discovering gay and straight meetings all over. The stigma attached to using the buses and Metro here in LA didn't deter me from traveling and exploring this beautiful, tropical city. In NYC and Boston, people of all economic backgrounds use public transit without considering their reputations, and I thought, "Why should I NOT use it?" My new home group, "HIV by the Books" at Being Alive has become the bright spot in my life. I love my friends and family now more than I ever have before.
I started background acting in January 2014 not realizing it would become enmeshed with my recovery. My ego had been deflated nearly completely, so I brushed off suggestions that "real" actors don't background-act. My ego began to grow a bit after working for a while, but with all the education I've been privileged with, I still knew nothing about acting. I've seen many Broadway musicals in NYC, Boston, and Atlanta, but I was always in the audience critiquing performances without knowing the history of acting, or the intense, emotional work that goes into a great performance. I decided I needed to learn more because there are people here who have invested their entire lives to the entertainment industry. Once I started reading the history of acting, I felt barely prepared to meet with an Acting Center's founder, and when I shared what I had read online, I was informed that "methods" have been discarded, and that fully being the character I'm portraying: a character with a past, present, and future; a character with concerns, life issues, and insecurities; something clicked. I looked out at the world through the eyes of that character. There was no room for ego at all. Sympathy played a much greater role in my acting education. Humility became more valuable than my paychecks. I also noticed that directors and assistant directors had difficult jobs, and a simple good work ethic (and simply being my true self) was all it took to impress them. After some time, they started recognizing me, and I was given upgraded roles only because I was in the right place at the right time with the right work ethic. I also must mention that I love meeting new artists everyday, and acting has taken me to some really beautiful locations throughout Southern California.
In early sobriety, you may hear, "Just suit up and show up (on time)." That advice has become as important to my life as the Socrates/Plato quote, "All I know is that I do not know." I'm currently reading books on Buddhism that remind me to be selfless, but I first learned spirituality in the literature of AA. Another important text that propelled this sobriety is the 12 & 12. I avoided that book like the plague in my first sobriety because my ego told me I didn't necessarily need it. Back then, I read the big book, and then embraced the teachings of Ekhart Tolle. But I knew I needed to read the book I avoided for years, so I read the 12 & 12 cover to cover. I began to understand the history and inner-workings of recovery. It cleared up the conflicts my ego had with recovery. I can now pass along what I've learned to the newcomer. I then read Hillary Clinton's Hard Choices to prepare for the upcoming election (but that's another post entirely).
As October 15th approaches, I pray I stay sober so that I can show others it can be done. Many say that once one goes out, coming back is more difficult. I can attest to that, because it was difficult for me to return to AA with my tail between my legs after scaring family, friends, and ex-boyfriends with terrible experiences that I almost didn't live through (or remember). But I now see that "going back out there" was part of my evolution. I needed to "experiment" more, which was a complete disaster. But I'm still here, so there must be a reason for my existence that I may not fully realize for years to come. It won't happen, though, unless I stay sober. I pray the memories of my recent history fade in the minds of those routing for me. Others believe in me, and now I believe in myself. I have never felt so confident about a career before as I feel with acting. But it's not going to stop there. I've been urged to use my writing skills to pen an autobiography many times, which I believe will happen in due time. But Hollywood craves alluring and captivating creativity in the form of comedy and drama. As a result, conversations with unexpected people have paved the way for future projects that may contain autobiographical elements while entertaining audiences in a way that offers new perspectives. I believe we are in an exciting time in human evolution: we are moving through an evolutionary period in which humans are more open-minded an accepting of the diversity of people as well as ideas. The projects I've worked on in the past year and a half have been incredibly fresh and creative, and many offer these new perspectives that are so important to human evolution in general. We can either open our minds more than we thought we previously had, or we can choose to resist change. I am currently learning to live with this ambiguity, and to accept the "groundlessness" of human life. This includes meeting other artists who are overflowing with talent. The potential each of us have is as vast as a clear blue sky that stretches forever. Our minds may be clouded with thought, but if we refrain from judging thought, we will see that we need only look further to realize the cloud of thought is as fleeting and superficial as a negative (or positive) mood. "This, too, shall pass" in possibly as little as 90 seconds.
I will provide a personal example. Lately, I've noticed that young, heterosexual actors of all kinds are intrigued by my contributions to conversations, and my patience with progress. It's as though homophobia is disappearing. I know that as with racism, homophobia may never disappear completely, but it catches me off-guard when actors ask me what I'm reading, or they clearly want my opinion on current-events. I still fear homophobic comments that never materialize. I can speak without this fear now because the prevailing attitude toward homosexuality and transgender issues are that we should allow people to live life the way they were intended to live, openly and honestly. Internalized homophobia within my own perspective has been pointed out to me, and that's another issue I'm currently working on.
This passed year and 11 months have rekindled a love for family and friends who have stood by me. I have also been quite candid on set while conversing with other artists about my struggles. In AA, anonymity is incredibly important and humbling, so I'm careful about what I put "out there" in cyberspace. But at the same time, I cannot stand quietly beside someone who is obviously struggling; and everyone is struggling with something. AA gives me a daily reprieve from the need to drink, but that's only the beginning. Being of service to others is something I am getting better at everyday with the help of literature and meditation.
And to finish up, I need to mention that my Dad is now living here in Culver City so he would be close to his granddaughter, Nicole. Now, when familial issues pop up, I don't knee-jerk-react. I handle concerns with grace and solutions. I no longer pour gasoline onto the burning embers of addiction because those close to me have endured enough. It's time for me to use my past as an arsenal for writing, acting, and whatever else comes my way here. Most importantly, it's time to lead by example, with a compassionate heart. I'm not my past; I am me, now: someone who considers the feelings of others. I also held out until I could buy an inexpensive car that I really like (despite its age), and I offer rides to people who don't. It's one way of making living amends, but there is still much to do. If my focus is on others, the eight worldly concerns (pleasure & pain, gain & loss, fame & disgrace, and praise & blame) dissolve from mountains to molehills, and things just fall into place. Because of my determination, my younger brother asked me to be Best Man at his wedding last year; and now he and his beautiful wife have a newborn baby named Bruce Malin. Who knows if I would have even been able to be the fun-loving uncle I am today?
After he was diagnosed with cancer, Steve Jobs had this to say about freedom from the eight worldly concerns:
"Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything - all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart."
