I'm writing this on a Saturday that feels like a Sunday, a little bit high with a crick in my neck because I haven't stretched or been outside since I woke up.
The house we live in is made almost entirely of glass (literally speaking) and we have these amazing sliding glass doors that make it an indoor/outdoor-functioning space, which was great... until we got a cat. Love that little baby, but having her means developing a certain level of cat-proofing around the house, which is what all of our projects are revolving around today.
The first thing we are doing is moving her litter box to a closet in the garage and installing a Luna-sized door in the wall of our interior mudroom, where we will also be tiling the floor with a teal, speckled ceramic that is meant to hide footprints and litter tracks. I'm excited about this because it's the first impression guests will see when they enter our home and I want it to look nice so we can, you know, have actual people over.
But enough of the home improvement talk. I have more serious developments to share. I probably downplayed it in yesterday's blog post, but last night was a complete emotional epiphany about the miseries of my current life. I was sobbing–– like, sniffly sobbing for over an hour and holding my childhood stuffed animal to my chest as I contemplated moving out of Los Angeles.
I felt so sensitive to everything yesterday; food, substances, emotions... just stewing in this painful clarity that has inspired me to make some changes. The most notable, perhaps, is a commitment to sobriety which starts, erm... tomorrow (I wanted one last hoorah) and will go until at least the end of this year.
This isn't some virtue-signaling, self-righteous bullshit because trust me, I love me some weed and alcohol and I don't want to shame anyone for doing their thang. But I just need to sit with some things for a while. I need to feel the brutal truths and approach my life with a calculated attack in order to make some serious changes.
I recognize that our realities are completely subjective and that being miserable for a protracted period of time is, well, a choice. I want to start doing things differently, showing up in a way that's going to create better results, and that all starts with the thoughts I have about myself.
I watched a lot of Chappell Roan videos last night and they provided insight for my own journey as an artist. Of course, it's inspiring to see how she stuck the course for nearly a decade and eventually came out on top, but the thing I love most about her is how authentically she owns who she is.
Other than the fact that we're both from Missouri, our brands don't have too much in common; Chappell is a queer, drag-wearing, bubblegum pop performer who, in my opinion, appeals to the everyman and the underdog, where as I am a (mostly ;)) hetero girlie who more or less conforms to traditional femme standards of beauty with a certain kind of edge and presence that tends to intimidate people.
I've been developing my brand for years now, always uncertain of where to land, and at times, wanting to hide or feeling ashamed of certain parts to myself, particularly as it relates to my sexuality because I didn't think my archetype was cool or trendy anymore.
But I'm starting to realize that is never going to work, and all this inner turmoil I have about my past as a model and my relationships with men is totally pointless because I can never undo those parts of myself. They happened. And no matter what, they will always be with me. So instead of feeling ashamed, I might as well take pride in who I am and let my previous conquests empower me.
In other words, it's okay to enjoy my own expression of sexuality and creativity. I can show up in my relationships–– romantic, platonic, para-social, and everything in between–– however I want. I'm rediscovering that power within myself, and I in order to do so, I need complete focus.
This is not my first time to the sobriety rodeo; I've taken months off from substances in the past (aided by alcohol alternatives and sober literature), so I know what to expect. But something interesting that I noticed this time around is that every notion of discomfort I am experiencing in anticipation of sobriety has something to do with how other people will feel about it.
When we host dinner parties, I want my guests to feel welcome to drink. When I rehearse with the band, I don't want them to feel ashamed of their alcohol consumption because I don't partake. When I attend my best friend's wedding next month, I don't want to sit out the champagne toast!
The last thing I want is to be a party pooper, or worse, have people think I'm judging them for their drinking habits, and I think it's interesting how that is my biggest fear around the whole thing. Just something to notice.
Weed is a bit of a different story. I quite literally had knots in my stomach at the thought of giving it up, especially when I think about my menstrual cycle and the crippling waves of PMDD that I go through every month, but I know if I don't quit cold turkey, I won't quit at all. And like I said, right now, I need the clarity.
The mental space I normally fill with substances will be temporarily substituted with concentrated passion while I implement the next phases of my career. I'm sure it will provide an opportunity to find other ways of managing my stress and instead of "taking the edge off," I can channel it into my art.
It won't be easy, but it's what needs to happen, and good things will come of it.
Ttyt,
Hannah