Love-Struckness

Something different is in the air these days...
It smells cleaner
The sky looks bluer
Everything seems to just be easier...

What is causing such ease?

Could it be a change in your job? 
Noooo...

Change in your family?
Noooo...

Did you win the Lottery?
Noooo... 

Did  you meet someone new recently?
Uhh... YEAH..

OH MY GOSH! 
Are you Love-struck?
Uhh.... I dunno... how can I tell if I am?


 

• Do you feel like you’ve been suddenly struck by a bolt of lightning

• Are you head over heels

• Feet don’t touch the ground

• Are you surprisingly nicer to people these days

• Can't stop thinking about a certain person

• Want to be with them, hold them & hug them

• Do you want to be held and hugged and loved by them in return

• Are you elated to find out that their feelings are reciprocated

• Is your stomach a bundle of nerves before your meetings

• Are you unsure if you’re hungry or full most of the time

• Have you experienced a sudden loss in weight

• Do you feel like a silly teenager

• Do you spend countless hours texting, calling and Skyping

• Do you talk about this person to almost everyone you know

• Do you email pictures of this person to your friends, bragging about how hot he/she is

• Does your heart rate rise to the point of losing your breath when you are moments away from seeing said person

• Do you feel like you are the richest person in the world since meeting him/her

• When you kiss, do you feel as if you belong in this person’s arms

• Are all your ex-lovers erased from your mind and all harbored ill feelings for these ex’s vanished and obsolete

• Do certain love songs replay in your mind like a cabaret? Example – Nothings Gonna Stop Us Now from Jefferson Starship, or perhaps You Got the Best of My Love by the Eagles?  Or how about Ain’t Nothin' Gonna Break my Stride by Matthew Wilder – but wait! That’s not a love song!! Oh well, we like the chorus anyways

If you are experiencing any of the listed feelings above, you, my friend, are love-struck.

 Cupid’s arrow found your heart’s center and blessed you with an unbelievable connection that most humans hope for, dream of and spend their whole lives being on hold for until it arrives, and sometimes, for some people, it doesn’t ever arrive. But for some it does. So consider yourself lucky and deserving.


Alert: These symptoms may lead to a lifetime of happiness.
There are no remedies for lovestruckness.

Best practices:

• Enjoy

• Do not question it

• Do not wait for something to ruin it

• Relish in its splendor

• Give your love in return

• Express yourself

• Treasure the connection

• Plant these love-struck seeds so that they may grow and be strong forever

• Don’t screw it up

P.S. Thanks Aphrodite, for releasing the curse.

I Skipped the Rock, and Other Things

The Skipping Rock is now somewhere underneath the waves of Cancun Mexico!

Last week my friend Deb and I took a trip to an all inclusive resort to celebrate her 40th Birthday.  What a fitting place to skip the rock, since, if my memory serves me correctly, it was Mexico where Mark found that very rock.

While I was there, I decided to let go of one other thing that I carried around with me since Mark's death - a piece of pottery he had made in a ceramics class. What's funny is that letting go of that pot was more sentimental for me than releasing the rock. 

Deb and I were at the Dolphin Bar (which was a little hut with swings for bar stools) where people could write on a shell with a marker and have it placed on the back wall of the bar.

 I grabbed a marker and wrote on the ceramic pot "Rest In Peace Mark". The bartender put it up nice and high.

"How long will it stay up there?" I asked.

"Forever."

Then he made us some colorful shots and we cheered to my entire journey of finally setting all this sadness free!

My last day in Cancun was beautiful. Deb had an earlier flight than I did, so I had a few hours to kill. I took a walk out to the water, reflected on my life and how far I've come. I thanked God for all the strength I've been given and I said one last good bye to the old cobwebs wrapped around my heart. I didn't skip the rock into the waves, I just threw it as high and as far as I could, out into the beautiful warm sea!

 Then I spent a few hours swinging in a hammock, already enjoying my new found freedom.

The Skipping Rock

Thank God for Judy Ford’s book, “Single: The Art of Being Satisfied, Fulfilled and Independent” and her eye-opening question that I became best friends with the other night…

If you looked into a crystal ball and found out that you'd be single forever, what would you do?

WOAH! My whole world suddenly opened up.
My Answers:

• I’d stop worrying.  
• I’d stop looking.
• I’d stop waiting.
• I’d stop wasting my time dating jerks who don’t care about me.
• I’d start investing more in my own happiness.
• I’d start taking more advantage of my independence.
• I’d become more a part of my family’s and friend’s lives to cultivate those relationships.
• I’d branch out from my job and find something more fulfilling.
• I’d volunteer and become more a part of my community.
• I spend more time having fun and being free, and spend less time wondering when it’s going to be my turn to walk down the aisle.

Whew! What a relief THAT would be. I said to myself.... hey wait a sec! Shouldn’t I already be living my life weightless like that? 

A few of my friends say that they would:

Tumbleweed House

 

 
• Buy more books
• Have a baby via sperm donor with excellent genes
• Travel
• Build a tumbleweed house and be a nomad
• Have lots of sex
• Smash the crystal ball with a baseball bat
• Buy tons of sex toys
• Volunteer
• Be a mentor
• Kiss as many cute guys as possible
• Enjoy the freedom
• Take the time for personal growth
 

Can’t you do all those things anyways? 

One friend said he wouldn't be the least bit surprised, and not even a little disappointed. This I love. 

Isn't it funny how some of us hold on to inanimate objects that supposedly comfort us or remind us of some place in our memory that is warm and safe? 

Since Mark's death, I have carried around the perfect skipping stone that he once found and gave to me. 

This rock accompanied me when I moved to LA, New York, then back to California, it lived in many nightstands, medicine cabinets, glove compartments and now resides in my makeup carrier which I use every day. For 16 years I’ve been taking a little piece of him where ever I go. I realize now that this stone has held me back.  It symbolizes all of my life’s pain, fear, loneliness, rejection, anger and insecurities. It’s easy for me to keep believing in all these negative ideas about myself when I have had something tangible as a reminder.  

I have already set Mark free, but I now realize that I have been bound by the tragedy of his passing and the trauma I went through (see my past posts if you are unaware of the saga), and this stone has been keeping that door wide open.

It's time to close the door and rejoice the beautiful truth about myself and take a step forward into a world of fearlessness and love, where I finally understand that I am kick ass, smart, and cherished; a world where I belong in my friendships, and where it’s OK to be angry and it's OK to set myself free.

I'm gonna skip the rock. 

At What Point Do I Stop Obsessing?

This is the question I recently asked myself in the midst of another hysterical breakdown while driving away from bridal shower #4,390. (number not exact)

I’d like to go to these events and have fun, be happy, and NOT CRY about how terrible my life is because I haven’t found a lasting love yet. Guess it didn’t help that I was on the verge of another break up as I handed over the gift and declared congratulations to the bride-to-be (in front of everyone) while making a spectacle of myself, wiping away my selfish tears.

Congratulations Emily!!!

At what point do I stop obsessing over this? I’m 38 years old and have been dreaming of love since I was a child.

16 Years Old

I was lucky enough to find true love in college, but it didn’t work out and he passed away. At some point in my life, I have to find a way to be happy for others and cease the self-inflicted torment of a bleak future filled with solitude and silence. 

I’ve noticed recently that the holidays are much quieter. My siblings have their own families to hunt for Easter eggs with, and even if we do get together, there’s still that good half of the day that’s just me, my Mom and my Dad.  Don’t get me wrong, I love my parents, but it can only get worse as the years go on, unless someday things change for the better!

For some strange reason, I’ve always gotten in my own way. People have told me that my whole life, but mostly it was about my acting pursuits. Now I’m realizing that it also pertains to my love life. I never truly believed that I would ever find “the one”, always casting myself as the forever-single-girl. 

Party of one.  

I’ve made myself into a woman who never gets the guy, yet I complain, worry, cry and blog about it. 

Well, folks, things are gonna change! I am tossing my torment to the wind.   I cannot let myself wake up one day at 60 years old and still be deeply upset and worried about my singleness while I’m attending my goddaughter’s wedding. She’s one year old right now, but I’m sure that doll face will be walking down the aisle, and I want to cheer her on with tears of JOY, not of loneliness.

But how do I turn over this new leaf?

How do I continue to want to find love while discontinuing the fear of possibly never being so lucky?  

My sister sat me down a few weeks ago and said: Give me the top ten things you are looking for in a man.

Then she proceeded to write them out for me...

1. Supportive of my ambitions
2. Spiritual
3. Kind
4. Open
5. Financially secure
6. A family man/wants kids
7. Likes art & culture
8. Selfless/appreciates me
9. Ambitious
10. Attractive
11. No addictions (had to throw that one in there)

Then she turned the list around and said: Now, does anything on this list represent who YOU are?

Well, Yes! The entire list represents me!

 

Then she said: I think we all tend to look for someone very similar to ourselves, which isn’t a bad thing, but try and be open to finding someone who fills in your gaps. He may not have everything on this list, but he’ll bring other things to your life that you may appreciate and be better because of it.

 

 

My amazing family knows how to wish me a happy birthday!

So do the little ones!

Part V: Is It Better To Have Loved And Lost Than To Never Have Loved At All?

How do you quantify the saddest time in your life to a beautiful lesson?

• If I never had to deal with ____, I would not have ended up doing ___.

How do you justify life’s curve balls?

• If ___ never happened, I wouldn’t have ended up meeting ___.

You can’t.

I knew a person who drove himself manic trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together after his friend died in a car accident. He thought he could figure out God’s reason for taking his friend and he came up with a pretty convincing revelation, but while he was passionately linking the chain of events together and professing that he knew God’s secret, I couldn’t help but want to shake him and remind him that we all die at some point – young or old – we are humble humans with an anonymous expiration date.

It’s not an easy thing to let someone go. Believe me… but in my opinion, there is no rhyme or reason to why anything happens. There is no cause and effect answer button that will relieve you of your pain by explaining that it was all for the best. 

If Mark had never died, I believe I still would have ended up right where I am today. Perhaps I would have traveled on a different route, but if it wasn’t Mark’s dying that forced me into therapy, self-discovery and healing from other painful things in my life, it would have been something or someone else.  

I will never be able to find happiness in Marks passing. I miss him.

He was wonderful. 

So, IS it better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all?

Absolutely!

 I would have never known what it is like to be in mad, crazy, infatuated, immature love. For all of my pain and sadness, I will never trade that blessing.

While his heart beat, Mark taught me how to love, how to have fun, how to be silly and care free, how to not give a shit what people think; and as he lay sprinkled by the earth and mounds of sunflowers and sad goodbyes, he teaches me to be strong, to keep moving forward with ambition and joy, to remember that life is short and to spend my precious time doing what brings me happiness and sharing that time with the people I love. 

Mark gave me a broad perspective on life, which in turn has grounded me and given me genuine peace.

Coming soon... "What David Taught Me" - a children's book dedicated to Mark! 

 

Part IV: Is It Better To Have Loved And Lost Than To Never Have Loved At All?

I had wished Marks death.

Not literally “I want Mark to die. Die Mark DIE!!!”, but there was one day when I was 19 years old and just started my very first acting class, when I was practicing my acting in the bathroom mirror. I was trying to make myself cry. I thought about Mark ever dying and how I would feel. I stood in front of the mirror, acted out a hypothetical moment of someone telling me such horrible news, and cried. I knew what I was doing was totally wrong, but, “SCORE!!!”  I was elated that I found a way to cry instantly if I ever needed to.

How ridiculous is that? THAT is what I beat myself up for, for 10 years. For being a dumb kid crying in front of a mirror and for hanging up on his drunk ass a few years later? 

It took me a few weeks to recover from my discovery that my therapist, Dr. Simon, was right. I was floored and sickened that I put my life on hold to beat myself up for THAT LONG over something so excusable. 

While waiting for Mark to be found and then grieving over his death, I gained weight, became addicted to Tylenol PM, drank a bottle of wine every night and passively tried to kill myself few times. I performed my Senior Cabaret, opened Hair at Cal State Fullerton, visited my brother in New York, performed Hair in Chicago that summer and graduated from college a semester late. In the midst of the Mark mayhem, I ignored all of my mail. Letter after letter urging me to file my papers with the admissions office in order to graduate in 1996 piled up on my bedroom floor.  By the time I tried to register for my diploma, it was too late. I had missed the deadline and was allowed to “walk” but my official graduation date was pushed to 1997. What a blow. I had worked so hard for four years to graduate on time, and it slipped right through my fingers. Needless to say, “walking” was not the highlight of my college career. I felt like a fraud on graduation day, like I didn’t belong with all of my best friends and classmates who actually opened their mail. 

I was furious that I had missed my graduation deadline and I had no one to blame but myself. I just wanted to be done with school and not have to walk down those theatre department hallways where I fell in love with Mark. I never wanted to step foot again on that Performing Arts lawn where he and I used to run into each other’s arms. Instead, I was forced to return to school and take a silly ballet class to stay a “student” and finish out an extra semester due to my lack of responsibility.

Yes, it was a terrible time in my life. Not only did Mark die, but all tons of shit hit the fan to make matters worse.

It was the night of our first preview (with an audience) for Hair and I had just buried Mark earlier that day. I showed up to the dressing rooms in my light pink funeral dress (hell no to black!) with puffy eyes and carrying a large tray of uneaten sandwiches from the reception. Again, I was surrounded with love and support from my friends, which was so wonderful yet something very strange and damaging happened.

I was in the dressing room when the Stage Manager announced:

10 minutes to places! Theresa, Alan wants to talk to you…

Alan was a Grad Student and one of the cast members of Hair. He and I did the “preshow” together which was this dark scene added to the top of the show by our nutty director who thought it’d be cool to start off Hair with an improvised scene that took place in a current day underground night club where the owner (Alan) and the waitress (Me) get into a huge screaming argument which then kicks everyone back to the 1960s and then Hair, the musical, begins.

I stepped out of the dressing room and had a chat with Allen in the hallway.

Theresa, I know this is a very sad time in your life, and maybe this isn’t the best time to tell you this but… (Shuffling his feet)… I’m in love with you. You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known Theresa, and I just can’t keep it in any longer. Especially now, seeing you in such pain, I just need to tell you that I am in love with you. Maybe when things calm down, you can give me a chance? Mark was a lucky guy, but I’m here now with my heart in my hands...

I stood there shocked, flattered, caught off guard, confused, kind of offended but cautious of his feelings and not at all interested in Alan. He was weird and I always got the creeps from him.

Oh wow. uh... I don’t know what to say…

You don’t have to say anything. I just couldn’t hold it in any longer.

No, I appreciate it, but you do realize I just buried Mark today, right? Like, 3 hours ago?

I do know, I’m sorry, it’s bad timing.

I’m very flattered. Thank you for being so honest with me. I’ll be honest with you too – I’m not interested in you like that. Sorry… I just can’t feel anything for anyone right now, and I never felt that way for you in the past, so I’m pretty sure I won’t feel that way for you in the future. But thank you for your warmth and honesty and I’m sorry I cannot return the affection.
 

He was cool with it. We parted ways.

A few minutes later, Alan and I were on stage, in our preshow scene in front of an audience of 500 people. 

This preshow scene always made me nervous. I had to play a tough cocktail waitress who gets into a screaming match with her manager (Alan) and I just never could figure out how to play that type of role. I was very young and inexperienced. I was always cast as the princess or the dumb cute girl, and I just had the hardest time mustering up a hard-edged underground drug addict waitress character, especially during the saddest time in my life! I had no energy. This worried Alan, the older grad student who had figured out his “craft” a long time ago. He was always trying to coach me into finding my anger to give the scene the weight it needed, and I just couldn’t deliver. On top of that, we had to IMPROVISE the scene. There was no script! I just had to whip up some dialogue out of thin air and create some kind of nasty screeching fight. Improv scared me. Nothing about this scene tickled me. I dreaded it.

So, there I was, hours after I just buried Mark, standing on stage in front of a full house, scared out of my mind and trying to act with grad student Allen who just professed his love to me. Our little improv scene ensued and he escalated it into a fight, I tried to “fight” back because that’s what the scene called for, we got into a lukewarm yelling match and then he turned to me with fury and screamed in my face WELL AT LEAST I'M NOT FLOATING IN SOME FUCKING RIVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I could not believe what just happened to me. Was he pissed off at me for not loving him back? 

I lost my shit. 

That fight scene that I was so scared of ended up being violent and terrifying. (just want Alan wanted)

I lost it so badly that a few hippies from the wings had to carry me off stage. I was kicking, screaming, sobbing, using every curse word I could think of, I was practically vomiting on my own tears I was so angry. He was yelling back all sorts of hurtful things about dying in a lake, floating in a river, drowning, being "fucking dead", it was terrible and it all happened in front of 500 paying spectators.

My friends had to calm me down back stage. I thought I was going to have a heart attack.

What just happened to me?

My friends told me what happened: Alan made that whole story up about his love for me. It was his prep work for our preshow scene. He told me he loved me in the hallway, then acted hurt on stage and used my vulnerability about Mark to make the scene come alive. He figured out a way to pull my anger out of me for the sake of the scene. 

Faculty came down hard on Alan. He was pulled from the show. He was allowed to stay at Cal State Fullerton and earn his MFA, but he was not allowed to do any shows after that. 

He apologized. I said, Thanks for the apology, but Fuck You.

These bits of shrapnel: not graduating on time, the passive suicide attempts, demented grad student Alan, Mark's body not being in one piece, etc... these were easier to get over when compared to the years it took to understand the depth of my pain, but here I am, on the other side, and I have learned so much about myself and the beautiful journey of life...

Stay tuned for the final installment, where I get to talk about all the happy stuff!

Part III: Is It Better To Have Loved And Lost Than To Never Have Loved At All?

Time moved slowly as we waited for Mark to be found. It took about 10 days for Search and Rescue to find him. Funny thing is, his body was discovered in the very spot the where accident occurred. His best friend Jerry accompanied the rescue team in the helicopter, they flew over the lake and Jerry pointed to where he thought they were that night. A diver jumped out, swam to the bottom and found Mark’s body – or pieces of.

I was curious as to why it was a closed casket funeral and asked Mark’s Mother. 

What’s he wearing in there? I was picturing him in a blue suit with his sweet curly blond hair, hands folded, shiny black shoes.

I’ll never forget her exact words.

Oh honey, since you asked, I’m going to tell you the truth…he’s not wearing any clothes. He wasn’t found in one piece, so we gathered him up and wrapped him in a shroud.

I’ll never forget the horror and disappointment I felt. I guess she needed to get that off of her chest, but I really wish she hadn’t told me that.

Later I found out that Mark wasn’t in one piece because the on-coming boat that had Mark’s fate sealed in his future had struck Mark smack dab in the middle of his chest, killed him instantly and launched him into the water. At least he didn’t die in a panic, drowning and in pain. But wow, the thought of his body not being in one piece really disturbed me. It still does. At the time I was thinking, “What do you mean he’s not in one piece? Is he missing a thumb or an entire ARM? Is his head in there? Are all his toes still attached to his feet? What?”  I couldn’t bear to ask though. Best to just let it go. 

I spoke the eulogy. I proclaimed my love for Mark and how I had planned on marrying him and having his children, which is odd since we were broken up and the last time I spoke to him I was a complete bitch. I made myself into a victim who lost her one and only true love, which I knew deep down wasn’t completely true. Absolutely did I lose one of my soul mates and positively was I torn to pieces over his death, but I was also beefing up my pain to torture myself for being mean to him a few weeks prior. Of course, I didn’t know I was doing that at the time. I discovered all this in therapy 10 years later, and what a painful revelation that was to finally figure out that I had punished myself for so long. 

I subconsciously blamed myself for his death. Maybe if I wasn’t so cruel to him on the phone that night, he would have stayed in town to win me back. 

Mark's sister, Melanie, told me that they had met up for lunch before he left town. He explained to Melaine that he was embarrassed for drunk dialing me late that night, but  he still loved me and knew I was the one for him.  He wanted to marry me. She advised him to tell me all of this when he returns from Lake Havasu.  He agreed to that.

It’s a nice feeling knowing that he died loving me and that maybe I was on his mind if he had any time to reflect before he passed on, but I was left with unsettled, remorseful feelings which I subconsciously covered up by spending the next 10 years never letting myself fall for another man. I decided early on that I’ll most likely never get married and have children. I sabotaged every relationship and chose to date guys who were clearly not right for me. I searched and searched for a Mark replacement. Someone I could have that romantic, sweeping, sugary, incredibly unrealistic puppy love with and every time I thought I found it, it would fizz out very quickly and I’d end up in a heaping crying mess eating a pint of ice cream.  

I was in therapy for four years when I lived in New York. It took my therapist a long long time to convince me that I had been punishing myself.   

Punishing myself? For what??

 

You feel guilty that he died. It’s not your fault Theresa.

That’s insane, Dr. Simon. I know I didn’t kill Mark. Why would I think it’s my fault?

 

There were a few times that I tried to fire Dr. Simon. It pissed me off that he would not let this issue go. Luckily, he did not let me run away. He was holding the key to the truth and he was waiting for me to open that door.

This was the hardest thing I ever had to face, no wonder it took me so long to finally open my eyes and accept the truth: I put myself through hell, I never let myself move on,  the bottom line of my existence was sadness for nearly ten years. My love life was always in turmoil, I was pursing an acting career that repeatedly broke my heart, I was 15 pounds overweight, my insecurities were so terrible that I wouldn’t even let myself wear certain shoes or go to certain bars because I thought I wasn’t “cool” enough. I was a mess and this is why….

Stay tuned for Part IV...