December 28, 2018 I was actually present at Christmas

This may be a long blog post.  Please be prepared.

As I sit at my lap top with my fingers on the keyboard, I stare at a blank "page" on my blog and wonder how I am going to type this.  How do I start?  I'm not really certain.  But it needs to be said.  I don't know if it needs to be said publicly or not, but it is my reality, so I am going to say it.

Mental Illnesses should never be covered up or hidden.  People suffer from mental illnesses every day.  Some suffer so badly it is debilitating and they can't even leave their bed let alone their homes.  I am lucky in that, at least what I deal with allows me (or at least a version of me) to get out of my house.  But in a way, it is also "unlucky" because I don't know which version has been let out of the house.  And you probably don't either.  As a matter of fact, some of you may have never even met the REAL me.  I don't even know when the REAL me is out. 

For the last 4 years, at minimum, my Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) has pretty much been running my life.  I did not realize this until Christmas Eve.  Tracy and I got into yet another fight.  I don't even remember what it was about.  He and I have been disagreeing and arguing and trying to save our marriage for a while now.  We don't talk about it publicly; at least not out right because its really no ones business.  The kids know.  They know we have plans and are working on things.  They know we have been in and out of marriage therapy.  They know that me getting a job is part of this. 

Oh I remember what Tracy and I argued about.  Our friend (and chosen family member, Michael) was here in town.  On the 23rd, I was rushing around to get things done so I could get home and go to the movies with he and Michael (and possibly Nate).  But when I got home, Michael left with a mumble under his breath, "See you later." Or something like that.  I had no idea what was going on.  Then Tracy told me he had dinner plans.  Which meant he was seeing Suzy, Nick's widow.  And I can only assume he didn't tell me he had plans (even when I asked the night before what the plans were for the next day) because he figured it would upset me.  He figured right.  I literally lost it.  I was so angry.  Tracy and I got into another huge fight about our very different feelings about Suzy and her role in our lives.. or lack of a role.. or whatever.  To be fair, she has not done anything.   This is *my* fight within myself, but I didn't realize that.  That night while I was losing it, I found myself smashing cups in the kitchen.  I (once again) damaged my counter tops, only this time it wasn't just a couple of scratches).  But the reality is, it was either the cups or me.  I figured the cups were a safer bet. 

I was pretty certain that my marriage was over with.  How can Tracy and I continue to stay married when our feelings about Suzy are so very different and cause this much of an issue?  (I realize this is MY issue.)  Well I didn't then. 

By Christmas Eve night, I was still really upset. I was struggling.  I had been looking forward to having Naomi's boyfriend and Nate's girlfriend staying the night.  I was looking forward to the whole family being here.  But now I was terrified that I was going to be "the crazy" house for Christmas.  The place no one wanted to be at because "she is crazy".  I was in the kitchen, trying to work, when all of a sudden, I ran back to my bedroom.  I was a crying mess (and that is an understatement).  While I was in the kitchen, I was thinking about why I was so angry about the Suzy stuff.  And it dawned on me.  It wasn't *me* that was so angry.  Well it was.  But it was "the others".  DID had been running my life for the better part of 4 years...maybe even longer. 

I realized that, even though I had told Suzy that she will love again and I want her to love again and start a family and be happy, seeing her actually do that while living in my home had triggered my DID.  I do not know when DID kicked in.  It might have kicked in the moment I found out Nick was dead.  But I don't think it did.  But it might have.  I do know that by the time she had moved her boyfriend into our house without talking to us, that the DID had kicked in full-force.  And here is why.  Seeing her dating and moving on, meant that my son was definitely dead and gone.  I had no hope of this being some horrible joke or mistake.  And every time I saw her happy with a new man, I was reminded that my son was never coming home and he was dead.  And I got angry beyond measure.  I got sad.  But mostly I hated her for reminding me.  I hated the girl I loved so very much..for reminding me that I lost my son (even when I knew she lost her husband).  And every time that Tracy and Michael continued to have a relationship with her, I started to hate them.  Every time they made plans to see her, I hated them even more because THEY were reminding me that my son was dead and never coming back, and I felt betrayed because they seemed to be okay with this.  Hating them and fighting was so much easier than facing the truth.. Nick is dead, and I need to grieve.

So there I was in the kitchen, surrounded by sharp things.  And all of a sudden, it was ME..not my DID others that realized this.  And I felt like I had just found out that Nick had been killed. I felt like I had JUST gotten that phone call.  I ran to my bedroom, and grabbed Tracy by the shoulder on my way through the living room.  This was NOT good.  I flew myself onto the bed and wailed.  I made ugly crying look beautiful.  As I cried and snot flowed freely out of my nose onto the bed and mixed with tears, I mourned the loss of my boy.  But then instantly, my personality would switch.  I would wipe my tears and my eyes and talk in a calm cold voice.  This "protector" would tell Tracy that I was too weak and could not be allowed to be out.  This protector said that all I ever did was cry and could not handle life and no one needed her like that.  The protector made me feel crazy.  The protector said that she was there to make sure life went on.  But then Tracy would beg her to let me come back.  And I fought my way back, but I was a crying mess.  I felt like my heart was exploding into a million pieces.  It was agonizing. I felt like I was having a heart attack.  It was so painful.  All I could do was wail and cry.  I told Tracy I was terrified of ruining Christmas.  He would beg and plead with me and this protector to let me stay so I could heal.  He begged and pleaded to let me stay so I could enjoy a happy family Christmas for the first time since Nick died. 

The kids know I have DID, but as far as they know, they have never seen me in a full on DID episode.  Tracy went out to the kids and told them what was going on.  HE brought the kids into the room.  Everyone crowded around me on the bed or beside the bed holding me or my hands.  They all talked to me as I cried and switched in and out.  I didn't want them to see me switching in and out.  I wanted to stay.  I wanted to love my children and be happy with Christmas.  I wanted to be present for once.  As painful as it was, I wanted to stay out and present.  I had switched again.  Tracy saw it.  He asked the kids to leave.  He talked the protector down and I was able to come back out. 

I was able to come back out and stay out through Christmas.  I was able to play with my kids.  We enjoyed the most beautiful Christmas with all 4 of the kiddos on the floor opening their stockings and their presents.  We all got to laugh.  We visited with my mom and took her off-roading in her wheel chair so we could take her to the Greenbelt on a sunny cold Christmas/Birthday.  We got to enjoy dinner together and laugh.  All 4 of the kids loving on each other and enjoying each other's company.  This is my family now.  This is what it looks like.  They are all happy and get along and planning double dates with their presents.  This is what happiness looks like, while I also feel grief.

I managed to stay out all the way through Christmas.  As a matter of fact, on the 23rd, while I was shopping for Christmas presents, I came across a book on Grief written by a local author.  It spoke to me.  I have 2 others written by a friend, but I have yet to read them.  I couldn't bring myself to do it.  Probably because I wasn't in charge.  It was "the others", and they were keeping me from dealing with my grief.   I picked up this book, and I have started to read it.  I am struggling with parts of it.  It  is definitely written from a Christian perspective.  And I realized that part of the reason I had stopped going to Church and started identifying (sort of) as atheist was because I felt the need to keep Nick's legacy alive... and he was a staunch atheist. Even though my spiritual beliefs are what drive me and feed me, I had turned away when Nick died.  I realized that this is NOT serving me.  And this book, well, the others are trying to keep me from reading it.  I am fighting through it.  I am reading.  It is also talking about looking for the light in the darkness... and using some very vivid imagery and metaphors that speak to me in a very profound way. 



Last night Tracy said something pretty innocent, and I felt the shake and rattle of the unsteady self.  I told him what I felt.  By the time we arrived home, I was in full on DID episode.  I had tried to shut my door using the back of my left arm and it hurt like none other and I didn't know why.  (It was because of my stitches, but I didn't remember because it wasn't me...I was someone else).  Tracy got me to our room, and I was a mess.  The protector came out and talked some.  I found out that she has been around since I was a young child.  She is the one that hates all of the extra women in my life.  She is the one that holds jealousy and hatred and bitterness.  She is the one who causes havoc.... in the name of "protecting me".  I went back and forth between her and myself last night.  I was finally able to come out and stay out.. but I can tell you the grief is real right now.  My heart ache is real.  And my emotional stability is tenuous at best. 

With all of that said, I can tell you times when I know for absolute certain that *I* have been out and present.  I found out last night that if "the others" try to keep me locked up in the cell they have kept me in, all I have to do is remember those times that I knew I was absolutely me and happy and present.  Those times were the times I was on stage doing burlesque.  Maybe not every time, but certainly, my "This is Me", "We are the others" and my "Teddy Bear Picnic" act.  Those 3 I know for certain are me..and me alone.  If I can remember those acts, and the joy and the feelings that come with them, I can unlock the cell "the others" keep me in. I can remember the "light" this book keeps talking about. 

Anyway, now that I know all of this, I can start to heal.  And some of you who have met me in the last 4 years may not have met the real me.....you may have seen me...its hard to tell.  But it answers alot of my questions......  I have been trying to tell Tracy for months that I h ave been stuck....I have been asking for help.  Well now he knows...and now YOU know... please be gentle with  me. 

*****EDIT****

So I hit "save" because I thought I was done, but I didn't have time to look it over before I left for lunch with Omi.  And after lunch we had plans to see Mary Poppins Returns.  In case you didn't know I am a HUGE Mary Poppins fan; I have read all of the books and seen the original movie so many times and the musical a couple of times in theaters.  It is my FAVORITE!  When we were in England, I was stoked to see some of the places the new movie had been filmed.

Now that I have seen the new film, all I can say  is, "It's practically perfect in every way!"  I so don't want to ruin it for anyone.  But I will say this,  Mary Poppins Returns hit on every single nerve and every single thing that this blog post and my life has been...complete with a rubber ducky in it..complete with the same message in this book that I have been reading about "looking for the light".  I will not say anything more.  But I will say there are sooooo many parallels.. so  many characters in that movie that were me and my "others".  And the ending.. the ENDING...has "me"..the "real me" working in a bank (and I start my job with Wells Fargo in the Loan Originator position on  January 7th).    OMG.  I see a new Mary Poppins burlesque number coming to the stage in 2019.... get ready, Boise,  Creepy Mary Poppins, is moving over, and the new act..the new act will have your spirits lifting to new heights and or popping your bubbles!  I'm not sure which yet! 

(Naomi and I just after seeing Mary Poppins Returns)

Christmas Eve, 1988, the story of the Alien Turkey.

Tracy and I were newly married at just 4 1/2 months in to our marriage.  I was pregnant.  I was working 2 jobs; one at a baby clothing store, and one in an office.  Tracy was working 2 jobs:  One at JC Pennies in the appliance section, and one at UPS as a box sorter and truck loader.  We were doing everything we possibly could to make ends meet and prepare for the baby that was on his way.  To be fair, my second job at the baby clothing store did not last long.  But Tracy, he worked his arse off for our family. 

Thanks to his work at UPS, we had a free turkey. Thanks to his hard work at JC Penny's we got the biggest pay  check we had ever seen in your 19 years of life.  I remember it was like $1000.  I took that money, and bought us our first Christmas decorations (we still have the "our first Christmas" ornament that we hang on the tree together every year).  We bought a Christmas tree and put it in the corner and we took time to decorate it together while the fire crackled in the fire place.  And we made a plan.  I was going to cook a Christmas Eve dinner while he worked at Pennys.  Here's the catch.  I didn't know how to cook.  The extent of my cooking was opening a can of ravioli, or fallowing the directions on the back of the mac and cheese box, or my famous tuna fish casserole (which Tracy hates).  So a big Christmas meal was completely out of my league.  That didn't stop me from dreaming.  And boy did I dream big.  That $1000 check?  Part of it went toward a HUGE microwave. My only request in a microwave was that it was big enough to cook the turkey in.  Yes, you read that right.  I wanted to cook the turkey in the microwave!

The only family we had in town, was my oldest brother Matt and his wife Mary.  We made plans for them to join us for Christmas even dinner.  I promised them, a meal of turkey, green beans, yams, and Christmas cookies for dessert.  (Never mind the fact, that I had NEVER made ANY of this before.)

The day of Christmas Eve came.  I pulled out my turkey from the Freezer. Yes.. the turkey was frozen.  You can make cook a frozen turkey in the microwave and have it come out delicious right?  Right???!!!!   I read the directions for cooking a turkey in the microwave.  I set it in this large beast of a microwave that took up the entire counter in my small condo kitchen.  I set the timer and let it cook.  I spent the rest of the day, getting everything else ready to go.

My kitchen looked like a bomb had gone off in it.  Flour was everywhere.  The turkey (which I checked on often) didn't seem to be cooking and I didn't understand why.  I was getting worried.  Tracy was working and I knew I was going to have to go pick him up after his shift.  Matt and Mary were due at our house for a late dinner in a few hours.  My sugar cookies were burning. How did my mom make such perfect cookies at the holidays?  My canned yams were not so great.  The green beans were barely edible (if at all).  And the turkey.. well......

I picked up Tracy from work. Matt and Mary showed up.  I showed them my turkey.  And the first thing Matt said was, "It looks like the Alien!" Indeed it did.  Our dinner that night consisted of burnt cookies, horrible yams, and barely edible green beans.  I'm pretty certain, Matt and Mary ran through a drive through or something on the way home.  LOL  I was such a freaking failure. 

Turns out, there are pieces and parts of a turkey that are stored inside of his hollowed out breast.  And those pieces and parts, are meant to be taken OUT of the turkey before cooking it.  It also turns out, that you are supposed to defrost a turkey before cooking it.  And most importantly, TURKEYS ARE NOT MEANT TO BE COOKED IN A MICROWAVE, NO MATTER HOW HUGE THAT MICROWAVE IS!

But you know what?  We were 19, newly weds, madly in love, excited to be parents in a few short months, and living our lives happily oblivious to the pressures of the outside world. I had (what was left of my family in Texas) with me, and all was right in my world.  Life was so simple back then.  All we needed was a huge ass microwave, love, and each other. 

This holiday season, as you prepare your turkeys (hopefully not in a microwave), I hope you remember the simple things in life. I hope you remember that family (chosen or biological) is what matters.  The special times spent together laughing, even if its at the alien turkey or burnt cookies, is the best way to celebrate life.  And I hope that you make precious memories that can be remembered and laughed at for decades to come!

Here's to my alien turkey, my hard working husband, amazing memories, lots of love, and the roll fight tradition that will be happening in my house in a few short days! 

October 3rd...I can't believe this is my life....

For someone who believes they create their own beautiful life, it sounds funny to hear me say, "I can't believe this is my life."  I mean, after all, I didn't just create my life, but at the very beginning of the year, I set intentions to travel with my Burlesque acts.  Of course, I was thinking something "small" like just traveling a state over to Oregon or something.  But going to Europe wasn't even on my radar!

When I was accepted into the Bristol Burlesque Festival, I was beside myself. But there is no way I could have been prepared for the reality of what it was!  Before I start talking about my festival experience, I just want to take a moment to (once again) thank Tuesday Laveau and Dis Charge for inviting me to perform in their amazing festival.  They invited me to bring my act "This Is Me" to Bristol.  This act was a passion project for myself.  It is everything to me and took 2 years to get on stage as I waited for the perfect song to show up.

I have performed "This Is Me" 3 times here in Idaho, and each time to great responses. But the response I got in Bristol was beyond imagination.  The venue was tiny.  It sat *maybe* 40 people maximum.  I counted how many seats were there, but I have forgotten since then.   I was entering from the back of the audience.  So as the performer before me was on stage, I stood quietly at the back curtain and watched as she performed and the audience cheered.  Then Dis Charge started to introduce me.  It was the first of 2 shows.  As he spoke his words, I felt my heart melt and my eyes start to tear up.  "No crying before performing, Leazetta!"  I felt my body start to quake.  I NEVER get stage fright and I rarely get nervous and shaking before a performance is unheard of.  But there I was, standing at the curtain, listening to Dis Charge sing my praises.  I listen as he explains that burlesque can be political, angry, funny, and tender and moving.  I will the shakes to go away.  How am I suppose to get up on the stage gracefully with legs that are shaking so crazily?  Were the things Dis was saying about me true?  Could they be true?  Am I THAT person?  It would be nice if I were THAT person.  The person he introduced was powerful, beautiful, amazing, talented, worthy of so much greatness, talented, and belonged on stages everywhere!  Finally, he finishes his introduction and I hear my name, "Leazetta Rose", and then a bit of silence as I listen for the intro to my music through the clapping and cheering from the audience.

The music starts, I start walking slowly through the intro, making eye contact with the audience members.  Those shakes I had been feeling during my intro have disappeared like they had never happened to begin with.  The lyrics started playing, and I started serenading my audience members one at a time.  I met their eyes and sang to them.  I could feel the love in my eyes.  I meant every single word that I lip synced to these beautiful people.  I saw the expression in their faces. They were receiving the love I was sending out.  They were feeling validated and seen.  By the time I had reached the stage, I had made eye contact with just about everyone in that audience.  They were already emotionally invested in my performance and it really hadn't even started.  Once I stepped up onto that stage and turned around to face them and started on the next verse, I could hear the audience roaring.  I could hear Dis (who was sitting with the audience to my right) "Yes, Queen!"

With each "This is me" phrase, more of me was revealed.  With each powerful step I took, the audience cheered.  The more REAL I became, the more I revealed of my scars and stretch marks..the more I loved my body, the more the audience cheered and felt freedom for themselves.  I hit each one of my marks.  It was glorious.  It was the best performance of my life and I was so grateful.  They were so loud I could barley  hear my music.  And then, it was over and I was carefully walking down the steep stairs down to the basement to do it all over again.  In just a few minutes for the second show.

Between shows, Dis told me that I made him cry.  I guess I have a way of doing that.  And that statement usually comes with "Fuck you for making me feel something!".   LOL  To which I replied, "Ya, you made me cry too!".

The 2nd show had started.  I was standing inside the curtain as Dis started introducing me again.  I wish I had a video of that introduction. It was bigger and more fabulous than the first one.  Again, I kept thinking to myself, "Do I really deserve all of those accolades? Is this really me?  Am I the one he is describing?"  I saw Frankie, my burlesque mom and friend, turn to look at me..her eyes were filled with pride and anticipation.  My husband was looking at me and beaming.  Dis was holding back tears.  And this time, there were no nerves running through my body.  Only gratitude for what I was about to do and for where I was and for how I got here.  The audience was smaller this time around, but it was louder.  It was filled with performers that were there for the rest of the weekend's shows.  The music started, and I started my walk to the stage.  I made eye contact with each person. I sang to them.  I shared loved with them.  Again, they were emotionally invested before I ever took to the stage.  Again, I hit every mark.  I could feel the power in the audience.  The give and take that was happening was unbelievable.  Frankie was cheering her heart out. The audience was so freaking loud, I couldn't even begin to hear my  music, I could only hope that I was hitting all of the proper words and marks.  Indeed, I was. Not only was I hitting them all, but I could feel it.  I was the best performance I had ever done.  Once I dropped my bra and the song ended, I stayed there in my last pose and let the audience cheer and sink it all in.  I soaked up their praises and their love.  I had done what I had gone there to do.  I had accomplished my goals.   My performance was pretty darn near perfect and my heart was bursting with joy.  I finally curtsied and blew my kisses to the audience and walked off stage with a smile.

After the last curtain call of the evening, Frankie made a bee line to me in the hall way and hugged me like she has never hugged me before.  She showed me the goosebumps I gave her.  She was in tears telling me hit was the best performance she has ever seen me do.  It was so very special and perfect to have my burlesque mom/mentor and friend be at my first festival and an international one to boot.  It was perfect.

The other performers for that evening and the 2 that followed were stunning, spectacular, amazing, brave, fierce, fearless, bold, flawless, and above all genuine.  I am so blessed to have shared stages and festival time with these performers. The ones I got to know from Germany, Switzerland, England and Wales have won over my heart and admiration.  My burlesque family has grown and I couldn't be more grateful.

The little girl in me that was told I was too fat to be a ballerina was told she was beautiful and belonged on the stage.  There is no more shame.  I am every bit of the words that Dis used to describe me.  I am a force to be reckoned with.  My heart belongs on stage. My body belongs on stage.

The message I have for that little elementary school girl is this, "Dear, sweet, young Martha, be patient, be brave, be bold, be YOU!  One day all those girls who tell you that you are too fat, will have given up on their dreams of dancing. They will have forgotten about you.  They will have their own battles to fight.  But YOU, YOU will become everything you have ever imagined and dreamt of.  You will be brave, bold, fearless, authentic, joy filled, beautiful, divine, sparkly, adventurous, and a force to be reckoned with.  You will become more than you ever thought you could.  You will fight the political norms. You will fight the societal norms. You will love yourself just as you are no matter what comes your way.  You WILL grace stage after stage both here in the states and abroad. Nothing will stop you!  Keep going!  Keep moving forward. Keep pushing away the haters and know that you are glorious, brave, and a warrior!"

 
 
 
 
 
 

September 16, 2018: Another life moment that I won't get to share with Nick.

This got long and kind of tangenty..sorry.....make yourself comfortable....

Friday, while perusing Facebook, I scrolled through my news feed to find a meme from my daughter in law, Nick's widow.  She said something about missing margaritas and how she can't drink.  The ONLY reason Suzy would stop drinking her 'gitas was if she was pregnant, but I had not heard anything.  I did, however, feel like she was pregnant last week.  I was just thinking last week that it was about time for her to get pregnant and/or married.  Actually, I have been expecting her to get pregnant for a few months now.  I don't know why.  I can't explain it.  Other than to say I just felt like it was coming.  And it is something I have been preparing myself for from the very beginning.

When she and Nick first started dating and even when they got married, the idea of her having children was not even a thought.  She did NOT want children.  Nick always wanted children.  He loved kids.  But by the time Nick was getting ready to graduate from college, they had decided they would have a baby, but he had to graduate and they had to find their own place first.  She did not want to have a baby in my mom's house. 

When Nick died, and after everyone went home leaving me in the house with Suzy, Suzy and I had some long tearful conversations.  Together we cried for the loss of the man we loved.  But it was me comforting her.  She was afraid she would never be loved again.  She was afraid she would never be able to get married or have children.  Who would want her as broken as she is?  There I was, just a few weeks after losing my son, and I am comforting this young woman that I have loved for so many years... holding her, letting her cry, and telling her that one day she will love and be loved again and of course she will have children when she is ready.  I assured her that is what Nick would want for her, and that is what we would want for her when she is ready.  I meant every word of that.  I still mean every word of that.  But why did it have to be ME, the mom of the man that was just killed, that had to support the woman who just lost her husband?  Who was there for me?  I did not want to put my grief on Suzy.  She was crushed, and she was my sole focus.  Taking care of Suzy and packing up the house. 

She was so much my focus, that I wasn't there for my own children.  Even when we came home from Florida, I was still watching after Suzy and telling my own children to give her space.  When Suzy started bringing home boys, I made sure the kids supported her....even if it was hurting all of us to see her bring the men into the house.  We did our best to support her.  I did my best to support her.  I always took up for her with the kids.  ALWAYS.  Until the very end, when I couldn't handle it anymore.  I couldn't handle the  boyfriend moving into our house before the first anniversary of Nick's death.    Just because I wanted Suzy to be happy didn't mean I had put my family and myself in jeopardy, but I missed that memo somewhere.  I was so concerned about Suzy, that I neglected the mental health of myself and my family.  Thankfully, I had Naomi in therapy before Nick was killed and she had an amazing safe place to talk.  Nate on the other hand, had a girlfriend who was going through some rough stuff and making life miserable on him a the same time all of this Suzy stuff was going on.  I failed him on so many levels.

Anyway, all of this to say, I have been preparing for Suzy to get pregnant ever since Nick died and she told us they were planning on getting pregnant.  Just because I was preparing for it, does not mean that I was not going to be sad.  This is a life moment that I am missing out on with Nick.  When Nick died, nothing was left of him except his remains and memories.  The remains that Suzy has with  her.  I have a little bit.  We have them in pieces of art.  But Suzy has been scattering ashes without even inviting us or talking to us..then posting about it on FB.  So ya... nothing left of Nick. No baby.  No grandbaby from our ONE child who absolutely loved children, always had.  (Probably for the best considering how life has turned out with Suzy.)  But anyway, I was prepared for this.  I knew I would cry and mourn the loss of a dream.  I knew I would be sad.  But I also knew I would want Suzy to be happy and healthy and that her baby would be happy and healthy.  This is all I wanted for Suzy after Nick died.  But just because that is what I want for her, does not mean that it wasn't going to hurt for me.  The two things can exist in the same spot.  It's a weird bag of mixed emotions to have to sort through, honestly.

So I found out on FB that she was pregnant because of a Meme she posted about no alcohol.  I then remembered Tracy was suppose to have lunch with her when I had my breakdown and ended up in the hospital.  So I asked Tracy, "Have you had lunch with Suzy?"  He said yes.  I then asked him, "Is she pregnant?"  The look in his eyes was one of the eyes of a deer in the headlights and "Oh fuck!"  We were in the intermission of a Red Light Variety Show...it was the tail end of the intermission.  I sat through the first act after intermission in tears.  I was angry.  I was angry, not because Suzy was pregnant, but because I found out on FB and Tracy had known for almost a month and didn't tell me.  Between acts, I asked him who else knew. I was getting more and more angry.  Finally he said, after this act, we are leaving... and we did.

He said Suzy had told him at lunch and he didn't want to tell me because I was in the hospital after the break down.  He was afraid of what it would do to me.  He asked the new grief therapist about telling me.  They agreed to tell me later when I was more stable.  This therapist does not have the history with us that our previous therapist had.  She did not know what horribly bad advise this was for our marriage.  When I brought this up in the car (I was very angry), Tracy said he refused to apologize for doing what he thought was right for my mental health.  It was then that I lost all sense of calm and just saw red and told him let me out of the car.   I could not be around him anymore.  I was hurt.  His actions hurt me and he refused to apologize for those actions.  It was not about Suzy being pregnant.  It was about the way in which I found out.  I created a horrible post on FB screaming and shouting.  It was only up for maybe an hour (late at night)..maybe...before I deleted it.  Somewhere in there, Tracy said it was not Suzy's fault for not telling me.  Apparently, at that lunch, she had asked Tracy about telling me.  And he made the executive decision to not tell me.  He had asked her to block me and anyone who knows me (and might tell me) from any posts regarding her pregnancy.  He did not tell our children because he did not want them to have to keep the secret from me.  I did not know about Suzy wanting to tell me until the next day after my screaming rant...that I deleted.  I was wrong for posting that screaming rant.  Something so personal that was between me and my husband should not have been posted publicly.  (Ya.. I know this blog is doing the same thing..but in a different way.  I'm trying to get my thoughts and feelings out in a healthy way. I'm trying to express my thoughts completely so people understand.  And yes, selfishly, I do not want people to think I am mad because she is pregnant.  I don't want people to think I am some kind of monster.  Because I am not.)  I also do not want people to think Tracy is some kind of monster.  Though I think he was wrong, Tracy was doing what he thought was right.  He was trying to look out for my mental health which has been walking a very fine line.  I get it.  But, without getting into things that should not be shared publicly, I totally believe he should have told me while I was in the hospital.  1) I was in the safest place I could have been to find out.  2) I could have been working with my therapist on this for the last 3 weeks.  3) I would not have found out on FB which has now sent me on a tail spin and caused more serious damage than just me finding out Suzy is pregnant. 

Since I found out Suzy was pregnant, I have unfriended and blocked her on facebook.  It was not about being angry with her.  It was not about not being happy for her.  It certainly wasn't about not loving her.  It was about both of our mental/emotional stability.  It was an act of love for her and self-love for me.  I want her to be happy. I want her to be able to do all of the things happy excited expecting moms do...like posting pictures and baby bump updates on facebook without having to worry about blocking me from seeing them.  I wanted her to be able to be publicly happy without worrying about accidentally setting me off.  Yes, I could have just unfollowed her, but the problem is, I can be obsessive.  I know me.  I know I would have gone looking.  It would have driven me crazy.  So, it was safer for both of us, for me to unfriend and block her..so I wont go looking...and more importantly, I won't see anything from any of her friends that tag her in stuff about baby stuff.  I won't see  posts she posts on Nick's wall (if she ever does) about this stuff.  It's just safer and better for both of us.  It was an act of love and respect.  I want her to have the happy, healthy, pregnancy she deserves.  I have also sent her an email telling her that I was happy for her and that I love her, but to please understand that this is painful for me which is why I have done what I have done.  I also explained that I am not mad about her pregnancy, just in the way I found out.  (At the time,  I did not know that Tracy had told her NOT to tell me.)

Unfortunately, Tracy not telling me (or the kids) has done some damage here at home.  Nate seems to not care, like he has about most things Suzy related since she verbally assaulted him for no apparent reason.  But, Naomi, on the other hand, has been very upset.  She said Tracy didn't tell her.  She said that Nate is the one who told her...because she asked why I was mad.  (I was not home..I was still walking around Garden City in the dark after getting out of the car on the way home from leaving the Red Light Show.)  (I talked to Tracy last night and he said he called her and told her while he was on his way home after I got out of the car.  Naomi does not remember that.)  She was upset that her daddy didn't tell her and she had to find out from Nate. Naomi is still very hurt about everything that has happened with Suzy..including the verbal assault Suzy gave her when Suzy was living at home and so many other things.

Grief does weird things to people...and can make people make some very bad choices.  Our family was NOT ready for Suzy to bring boys home when she did, and it literally tore the kids apart.  I should have stopped it. I should have paid more attention to my own children instead of making sure Suzy was happy.  Because in reality, Suzy wasn't happy because I went nuts and started saying horrible things.  It was a horrible time in our house.  Anyway, Naomi is hurt.  Not about Suzy being pregnant, but because of the way things have played out in our house with the news.  Naomi said some of the same things I said to Tracy....without me saying a word.  She truly is my daughter.  She is hurting.  She is mourning her brother and what should have been.  I get it.  But I found myself having to defend Tracy's decisions...even if I didn't agree with them...and defending Suzy when I knew the truth and Naomi didn't.  I don't want Omi to think bad of Suzy for us not knowing.  That wasn't Suzy's doing.  That was Tracy's doing, and he did it out of what he thought was love and concern.  Naomi will be okay.  We will all be okay.. at least in regard to Suzy being pregnant.  It is what it is.  Suzy has moved on..and that is what she is supposed to do. 

I have one last thing to say.  There were moments, when Nick first died and we were back home in Idaho, before Suzy started really dating again, when I had this day dream of what life would look like when she fell in love again.  In my day dream, her new guy would become part of our family and when she had a baby, that baby would be like all of our other bonus children.....we would still be grand parents but in a different way.  In my day dream, we were one big happy family.  Reality is much different.  So, I find myself mourning not just the dream I had for Nick to have a baby, but also the dream I had that even after the loss of my son, the dream of still having Suzy as part of our family and still being a grandparents to her child. I am mourning my dreams all the way around. 

I harbor no resentment toward Suzy for moving on and being happy.  I only wish her well...and send her love.  While at the same time, I am tending to my own emotional safety and well being, and watching out for my own children.  And trying to find a way to be okay with Tracy's decision to not tell me which allowed for all of heart ache to happen in this way. 

If you have it in you, please send love, compassion, strength, forgiveness, empathy, understanding, grace and peace to me and my family.  We could use it right now. 

September 5, 2018 22 More Sleeps Till I Perform at the Bristol Burlesque Festival!!!

There might be 22 more sleeps till I perform in Bristol, but before that, there are 4 more sleeps before I perform the SAME act that I am doing in Bristol here in Boise one more time on stage at Make 'em Blush Burlesque.

It's interesting, when I created my "This Is Me" act, it was an act of joy and reclaiming my power.  It was an act of reclaiming my sexiness even when I'm not "commercially" sexy.  It was about being proud of my scars and stretch marks, cellulite, and fat.  I LOVED performing it.  I LOVED the song.  I LOVED the whole movie the song came from.  It was so inspiring.

The problem is, while I still LOVE the song and the movie and the music in the movie, as I have been listening to it over the last couple of weeks (since I was released from the psych hospital), the songs have all taken on new meanings to me.  I keep telling myself that this will add depth to my piece.  It will add another layer of emotion to tap into while I perform.

That's what I keep telling myself.  But here is the truth.....

Instead of "This is Me" being about my body, it has turned into so much more.  I have had a full blown break down since I created this piece.  Yes, when I originally created this piece, I thought about my broken heart from the loss of my son.  But that isn't a scar that I could show..not really.  And 2 weeks after my hospital stay, this song and so many of the songs in this movie have been attached to this feeling I have felt since my break down.  It has attached to my grief. IT has attached to the dreams we used to have and have been altered for the rest of our lives.  I have also transitioned a relationship, and I find the song in there about relationships being extra sad.  I FEEL the sadness in the songs.  I FEEL the yearning.  I feel every emotion possible.  Sometimes I feel happy. Other times, I feel just so sad.

How am I going to feel when I do this piece in 4 sleeps?  How the hell am I going to perform this piece in 22 sleeps in a different country at a big festival..my first burlesque festival?  I keep telling myself that this new connection to this song will just add depth.  I see choreo changing in my head to highlight my heart and my brain.  Accepting me, isn't about just accepting this physical body, but its about accepting me and loving me with all of my shattered heart pieces... its about loving me when my head is so screwed up it doesn't know which emotion to feel when.  "This is Me" is about ALL of me....not just the pieces you see naked on stage.  It's about being completely raw and open.  This piece is literally changing something inside of me... healing, maybe? I am not sure yet. But it sure has all of the feels going.  Maybe "showgirl" mode will kick in, and I will find myself being the happy peppy entertaining performer that people are used to seeing.  Or maybe, I will be happy with a side of seriousness.  I guess you will have to come to one of the shows to find out.

Make 'Em Blush Burlesque, Sunday, Sep 9 at 8pm at Pengilly's Saloon in Boise Idaho. Show is always free.

Bristol Burlesque Festival "Exclusivity" (in Bristol, England), September 27th at the Smoke & Mirrors venue...2 shows one at 8:30 and one at 10pm.  For tickets, follow this link:  http://www.bristolburlesquefestival.co.uk/

Photo Credit:  Dommino Inc

Hair and Make Up Credit:  Unique Angelique

August 25...Handcuffed again........

Tuesday evening I had the breakdown  to break all breakdowns (at least in my little world).  But before I get to that, let me explain a little of what let up to it.  I can't explain some of it because of legal reasons and its not really my story to tell anyway.....

First let me say I LOVE my bonus children to the moon and back. ALL of them...no matter what!  Losing Nick feels like I have lost my world, but in reality, I have so many children bio and bonus that I am never without love from children in my life.  But a certain set of bonus children have really been struggling and it has been breaking my heart for so many reasons and it started to pull up feelings of grief and loss.

Next there is a burlesque performance called Punching Up: Stories of Dissent happening here in Boise in November.  (I had NONE Of those kinds of acts in my current repertoire, but I really wanted to be in this show.)  I was given about a week and a half (maybe 2) to get an act together, to video and submit during "priority submission" (which I qualified for).  I came up with the act. It was perfect and inspired by Nick and some costuming I already  had done.  It was suppose to be "easy" to create.  but the further I got into it, the more I realized how much more detailed and longer it would take.  Things that I ordered were not coming in on time, I had to revamp some things I had in mind which required more detailed work than I was prepared for in my timing.  And it was getting a bit emotional because Nick had definitely told me what needed to be done to carry on his legacy in this act.  So yes, my emotions were getting higher. In order to get what needed done, I had pulled an all nighter...so I had not slept since 7am on Monday morning.

I spent Tuesday taking Naomi to the doctor and and trying to get costuming done and also picking up boxes for a friend who was moving (but the boxes were not that big of a deal as they were on the way.  I am nothing but a efficient driver when it comes to things like that). But then there was some real drama with a board I moderate on Facebook.  The worst of the drama happened in a private chat between Moderators and Administrators. Thanks to brain damage from concussions, I often use the wrong words, as was the case in this conversation.  I used the word "retaliate", and if any of you know me, you know that I don't have a mean bone in my body.  I have had plenty of chances to retaliate against people who have hurt me, and that is just not what I do.  As often as I can, I choose love and compassion, but retaliation is just not my style.  While I was gone running my errands for my friend and just generally doing my busy life, this whole situation blew up on facebook both in the private chat and on the board.  All of this could have been resolved with a private message with me to find out exactly what my thoughts were instead of just, I don't know, taking words that were not really what I  meant out of context.  If this person had gotten to know the real me for more than 2 seconds, they would have known that.

I was trying my hardest to clear this all up while talking to texting on my phone. It wasn't working.  I tried typing but before I could get it all typed out, the commenting on the thread on the board was closed and I could only express my feelings on the Mod chat.  But in the end, I felt unheard and misrepresented.  I felt hurt. And quite frankly, I felt judged by a human who has never spent more than 5 minutes talking to me.

All of this was happening.  I was on no sleep.  I was working on an intense project.  I was already feeling a bit of grief.  I was on my way to dance class to dance off this funk from the facebook nonsense, and THEN I came across a motorcycle accident that had 2 motorcycles down.  One looked pretty mangled.  The other was just down.  There were riders sitting on the curbs.  There was an ambulance.  There were cops.  This is the first motorcycle down I have seen since Nick's death, and (to me) it looked like a fatality had happened.

I pulled into the dance studio parking lot at the corner of Franklin and Cole roads and stayed in my car.  I could not move.  I was so upset.  I was crying.  I was wailing. I was clutching to the steering wheel.  The last thing I had posted on the Mod chat was that I was in my car.  I could not drive.  I was alone. I felt alone.  I didn't know what to do.  Then I threw my phone away. I knew that my friends on the chat would know how to get hold of my husband and I trusted that would happen. I could not do anything  more than that. I had officially shut down. 

I clutched onto the steering wheel and cried.  I was holding on for life because in my head I heard, "I just want to be with Nick."  and I did NOT want to use the keys to hurt myself.  I have too much to live for.  But my grief was so freaking intense. My anger was so freaking intense.  My family and friends finally showed up after tracking my phone and my daughter telling my husband what I had posted on our belly dance page saying I could not come to dance cause of the motorcycle accident I had just seen.  The belly dance sisters had no idea I was in their parking lot, and they had all just left.  I was alone.  Tracy, Judy, Eric and Nate showed up.  I was pretty much unresponsive other than saying I wanted Nick and I wanted to be with Nick and I missed Nick and I didn't want to live without Nick. They had all decided Tracy would just sit in the car with me until I could calm down.  Everyone was going to go home.  But as soon as Tracy got in the car, I  yelled at him to go away I didn'twant him there.  I jumped out the car and bolted.  My original plan was to run. At home, I know exactly where to run when I feel this way. But I was at a crowded intersection in a parking lot.  My original plan was to run on the sidewalk.  Tracy was following me.  But Tracy says, I slowed down, looked at the traffic and then time a sprint to run in front of a car.  It was not a conscious thought in the least bit. 

Tracy grabbed me.  I started kicking and punching. Eric helped to control  me. They brought me to the ground and I continued flailing and kicking and screaming horrible things like "I want to go to Florida to save Nick."  "Get off of me." "he's going to die because of you."  They called 911, the police came.  I was kicking an flailing and screaming horrible things yelling at the police saying it was their fault Nick would die because they wouldn't let me go to Florida to save him.  When they asked me if I knew who Tracy was, my only response was, "He is the man who won't let me to go to Florida."

The officers  had to restrain me. They handcuffed me with my hands behind my back while I was laying on my back. They  had to restrain my legs so I would stop kicking people to try and get away.  It hurt like hell.  I was screaming these guttural screams that I have never heard come out of my mouth before.  They took me to the hospital where I continued screaming and writhing until they gave me shot to knock me out.

I was in the ER over night.  Tracy slept in a gurnie beside me.  We waited all day for them to find a bed in a psych ward for me.  I was not allowed anything but finger foods. I was not allowed anything with strings or anything that I could use to harm myself.  They finally found me a room in a psych hospital.  I was angry. I was angry at Tracy for putting me there...though I know it was not his decision. It was actually the police. I was there under police lock down and papers had to be signed by a judge in order to let me out. I had to be examined by the court to see if I was sane enough to be let out of the psych ward.  It was like a really weird episode of Orange is the new Black. I walked into the cafeteria and everyone stared at me like they were sizing me up.  "What is she in for?"  And I felt like I had to find "the boss" so I could stay safe.  I was scared.  I was told I had to go to meetings and stay present and sociable.  I wasn't allowed a brush.  I wasn't allowed a sleeveless dress.  I had no rights.  I was told all of my rights had been taken away from me that I was under state's care now.

I had no cell phone. The only way I could communicate with people was by using the public phones that were on the walls in the public hall ways. There were only certain times family could call.  It was very difficult for my family to get through. Sometimes another patient would answer the ringing phone and then just hang up on my family. But sometimes I did get to talk to my friends and family who called and that helped a ton!

Tracy was able to bring me my favorite blanket from home so I felt like I was wrapped in love when I slept that night.  And I did manage to sleep.  The next day, I woke up and went to breakfast. I sat down with one of the 3 roommates I had.  She didn't talk to me.  I attended the first meeting and set my goals for the day... color, go to groups and see my family.  I went to my next meeting which was on meditation, but was interrupted by the DE (the state representative who would determine..along with the psych if I was able to go home). Legally, this could take 24 hours or 72 hours or even longer if they decided I needed to go to the state hospital.  The DE and I chatted it seemed to go well.  I just told her the truth.  It was just a really shitty day, but I have lots to live for and all of my usual coping mechanisms are at home, not here in this hospital and I had a therapist I can go to and I have a plan to get better.  Then I went to another group. We played a fun game of Pictionary.  Then I had to meet with a social worker.  I had to tell my whole story all over again.

Somewhere in all of this, I got to speak with one of the tech's who is there to babysit us in the common areas and check on us at night.  He and I had some great conversations about real things that had nothing to do with why I was really there.  I taught him a few things and he was great to talk to.

Then the psychologist came to talk to me.  I told him the same story over again.  I swear I felt like I could have just pushed a recorder and let them listen to it all again. It was so emotionally draining. He flat out told me that I do not belong there, and hopefully the DE will agree and send me home.  But the DE needed to talk to my friends and family on the outside to see if they thought I was stable in regular life first.

Finally, while my family was visiting, the nurse came and said, I would have my discharge papers by 8pm.  I was free to go home. Yay!


Today I still have bruises on my wrists from handcuffs.  I have bruises on my arms from when people tried to restrain me. I have veins that blew out from incompetent nurses.  But at least I am home.  I am emotionally drained.   I got the submission for the piece I wanted to get turned in on time.  It was not ideal. It needs pieces to be finished.  But I turned in the concept.  I don't know if it will get accepted or not.  But it feels so raw. Everything feels so raw. As I was videoing the piece, I felt so raw I almost started crying.  It was an emotional piece BEFORE all of this.  And I honestly believe that Nick wanted me to go to the psych ward so that I could experience a side of life I have never experienced. I think he wanted me to see "the others" who feel so down and out and so alone that they find themselves in a place like that.  I will never forget this experience.  It was life changing for me.  Until you  have been locked up in a place like that, you will never understand.  I am grateful for the experience and the stories I heard and the people I met.  I wish them peace and healing.

In the mean time, I have a therapist appointment with a grief counselor on Tuesday.  And I am going to go support my friend who is dancing publicly for the first time.  And I am going to help a friend pack to move.  I am going to take care of myself and be gentle with myself.

If you have read this far, thank you. If you have read this far, I have one more piece of wisdom to share... words matter.  Your tone of voice matters.  If you have a question about what someone said, take it to them personally before putting them on public blast.  Get to know someone before judging them.  When ever possible, please choose compassion.

Love Nearly 35 Years Later..July 8, 2018

I started to write this as a Facebook post, but then I realized it needed to be in a blog..get ready for some seriously mushy lovey-dovey words.  

Last night started out in an excited blur.  Nate has been saving up for a new car.  He sold the car he got for his high school graduation.  And he was ready to buy a new car.  While, he had money saved up for a nice size down payment, and his credit was decent enough.  He didn't have ENOUGH credit to actually get financed by the bank with a reasonable interest rate.  So, Tracy agreed to help with that (just like my dad did for me when I was 19...just  like we did for Nick when Nick was 18).  Nate had the car already picked out and the price and warranty negotiated.  Once the had the check from the bank, we all piled into my car and went to pick up his car.  A cute little Mini Cooper S.  Nate was so excited.  And while we were there, Naomi looked at a few cars; she is getting ready to buy her first car.  Both of our kids are finally moving on and moving forward after losing their brother in 2014 and it feels good to watch them growing up and becoming independent.  

Anyway, after the excitement of the car shopping, Tracy and I decided on a quiet night of going for Indian food and then heading home to hang out at the tiki bar.  It was a beautiful night for the tiki bar it was 80 degrees and dropping.  Tracy brought out the speaker and played a Jack Johnson play list he had created from 2 albums:  "From You to Now" and the one where he gives the narrative to all of the songs in the previously mentioned album.  We sat at the bar, enjoying each others company and listening to our own private back yard Jack Johnson concert.  The "From You to Now" album is like a journey through his life, including the love story between he and his wife.  It is so freaking sweet.  And Tracy and I relate to so many parts of his stories.  

As the music played, we found ourselves, dancing barefooted in our grass (carefully avoiding any dog bombs...we were not prepared for this. LOL)  It was spontaneous and beautiful and we held each other and slow danced to "I Got You"...looking into each other's eyes, the summer breeze blowing through the leaves of the trees and brushing our skin.  The grass beneath our feet was cool.  It was just us, the birds, and the summer evening sky.  It was magical and beautiful.  After that song ended, we sat back down and listened to more stories and more songs.  Jack started in on a new story about his song "Washing Dishes" and how he and his wife met when he was just starting out but she saw something great in him and encouraged him to follow his dreams and to do everything he wanted to do.  And again, I thought about me and Tracy.  I knew from the minute I saw him (without even knowing his name) that I was suppose to marry him.  We were 14 years old, but I knew he was going to be successful.  When we found out I was pregnant before we got married, I swore I would make sure he would finish college and follow his dreams.  I would support him in that, because I saw greatness in him.  And now, he is the one supporting me in following my dreams with burlesque..because he sees these things in me.  We were nothing but kids when we met, and every time one of us wants to do something, we support each other and cheer each other on.  Tracy has always seen greatness in me, and vice versa.  We smiled, laughed and I said, "How did Jack get into our heads???!!!!"  We kept listening and Jack told his stories and sang his songs.  Then "Never Fade" came on, and Tracy looked into my eyes and serenaded me with Jack's words.  We have been together for nearly 35 years.  We are just a few weeks away from celebrating our 30th wedding anniversary, and I can tell you with everything in my soul, that I love him more and more every single day.  Our love will never fade; it only gets stronger.  And last night was so freaking cheesy and sweet and so perfect for this old married couple!

Of course, all good things come to an end. Or do they?  Maybe they just get better!  The kids came home.  First Naomi came out and joined us at the bar.  The mood quickly shifted from cheesy and sweet to just fun.  Then Nate came out and joined us. All for of us were out there at the bar listening to Jack and talking and laughing.  I swear Nate had me cracking up so hard.  These 2 human beings that have chosen us to be their parents are amazing.  They are such great friends.  And when a spontaneous family night happens out at the bar, it's the best kind of family night!  It was the perfect ending to a perfect night filled with excitement, achievements in maturity, love, laughter, memories, and anticipation of even more greatness to come for our children.  

This is what love nearly 35 year later looks like......

June 11, 2018 The Perfect Time for a Dream to Come True!

As Leazetta  Rose, I have applied to perform in numerous burlesque festivals both in the United States as well as in a couple of other countries.  I have been applying for festivals for 3 years now.  Before I started applying, I asked my mentor, "Do you think my act is good enough to submit for festivals?"  I didn't want to submit something that wasn't festival worthy.  I also didn't want to over estimate myself.  I wanted to be real.  More importantly, I wanted to be professional and honor the stage.

Rejection letter after rejection letter came.  I cried over so many.  Others I just read and moved on.  Some I was more invested in, while others I did on a whim and decided that if I didn't get in, I wouldn't take it personally.  But that is the thing; art IS personal.  It's something an artist gives birth too.  And if it's something that has been created, not just choreographed, by me then it really is something personal.  If the costume is made by me, if the idea is my own, if the choreography is done by me...all of it makes it personal.  So when someone says, "Thanks but, not thanks."  It can hurt.  This year, I applied for a festival I thought for certain I would be a shoe-in for. Not because I'm amazing, but because it was a festival geared toward women of size.  I thought, If I could get into any festival, it would be that one.  Mostly because I thought I wasn't getting into festivals because of my size.  I didn't get into that festival.  I don't know why. They never (in my experience) have told me why. But my fellow performers assure me it could be for any reason like too many performers with the same colored hair or costume.  It could be anything.  And for this particular festival, the act I submitted, I decided was too "obvious".  I submitted my "This is me" act...an act that is so very personal.  This is the act where I get the most raw and the most real.  This is the act where I get as naked as possible and show the most skin and highlight my scars, stretchmarks and fat.  So yes, I can see where in a festival geared toward women of size, putting an act on stage that celebrates that may be redundant.

My self confidence has also been taking a little bit of a beating when I see local shows being created and I am not being asked to perform. I realize I can't be in every show. I'm not asking for that.  But I feel like there is some kind of disconnect. The producers of these shows are telling me that they like what I am putting on stage.  They are complimenting me (after they have told me before that they don't compliment unless its amazing).  Yet, I am not being cast for shows.  What am I missing? Is it personal? Am I not edgy enough?  What am I missing?  No I have not had the courage needed to ask them point blank.

With that said, I have been blessed with some incredible opportunities.  I got to perform at the Orpheum Theater in Twin Falls to a sold out crowd. It was amazing!  I also got accepted into my first out of state "weekender" competition. I submitted my Creepy Mary Poppins act, and it was accepted! I was so stoked! I felt like I was finally getting seen. But even then, I felt like I got in cause it was someone local to Boise producing it. She has seen me perform twice, including that specific act once. When I thanked her for accepting me for the show, she told me it was my talent that got me in.  I have to believe that. I want to believe that. My confidence needs to believe that.

I had also applied to a few other festivals that I really wanted to get into.  I was getting rejection letters right and left.  Some hurt.  Some didn't.  I was encouraged by my mentors to apply to festivals in Europe. I was told my "This is Me" act is perfect for Europe. I am not sure why they thought so. But, I believed them.  So I applied to Bristol Burlesque Festival, in England.  The casting emails were suppose to come by June 1.  All submissions would be responded to by June 14th.  June 1st came and went with no email.  I assumed I would be receiving a rejection letter in the next 13 days.

Yesterday, I saw that my performer email had a new email.  I opened it and saw it was from Bristol.  I thought, "well, there it is, my rejection letter." But then I kept reading the little teaser line that pops up in email, and it wasn't looking like a rejection letter.  I saw the word,  "pleased" and "invite".  My heart jumped to my throat.  I opened my email, and sure enough, "This is Me" was accepted and I was invited to perform on Thursday, September 27 at the venue called Smoke and Mirrors in Bristol!!!!!  I got into my first actual burlesque festival AND it's in ENGLAND!!!!

This could not have come at a better time.  I am currently recovering from another concussion.  I hit my head on Mother's day and I have been scrambled ever since.  Sometimes with concussions, you can have a personality change. I'm not talking a personality change like Dissociative Identity Disorder.  It looks more like, all of a sudden you like things you didn't like before.  Or you start hating things you used to love.  You can become mean or nice or whatever.  It just changes you. Sometimes those things are permanent and sometimes they stay for a while but revert.  In 2013, when I hit my head and had a horrible concussion, once I "kind of" recovered, I tried to go back to my Zumba instructing and found that I HATED Zumba.  This was an exercise I LOVED so much that I became an instructor, and then all of a sudden I hated it.  It crushed me.  There were other things that had changed too, and they scared me.  When I talked to the doctor (back then) she blew me off and told me it was nothing to worry about.  She was wrong.

Fast forward to now.  I'm a month out of bonking my head.  And in the last 2 weeks, I have been struggling with burlesque and dance in general.  I have really been feeling like I need to quit.  Not because I wasn't getting into festivals or on stages but because I felt my personality shifting from the concussion.  I was beginning to feel like I felt about Zumba.  It was scaring me. Burlesque and dance have given me so much. What would my life be like without it? Last week, there was a big burlesque show here in town.  I almost didn't go. But I wanted to see the out of state performers that Stella Sin brought in, and I wanted to support my friends.  I was also hoping that it would kick this shift that was happening on its arse and let me be.  Sure enough, by the time the show was over with, I was feeling it again.  I was ready to think about burlesque again and I felt happy and light.

Then the next day, I had a burlesque photo shoot for promo shots. I guess its a good thing, my  head got back into the game. But it was also that day that I found out that the Broadway musical Tracy and I had planned to go to in NYC for our anniversary in July had been cancelled.  I was bummed. But I had just been talking to Tracy about possibly cancelling that trip because we are buying our house and money need to be going to that right now.  So we just decided to cancel our NYC trip and do something else for our anniversary. That freed up some money....(we really don't NEED it for closing on the house.. it was just me feeling like we did).  However,  a trip to NYC in July, followed by a trip to England in  September followed by a trip to Portland in October would have been a bit much right after buying a house.  LOL.

So... here I am... excited. Watching as the world plays out perfectly.  I set an intention for this year it was to THINK BIG and take bold actions.  And here I am...watching it unfold. I am going to England in September to perform in the Bristol Burlesque Festival, and I couldn't be more excited!  I feel like this is the big "YES!" I have been looking for from the universe.  I feel like I am finally being seen and recognized for my talents..and appreciated.  I may not be invited on to local stages, but I am making it onto stages in Oregon and England!!!!!!  Woohoooo!!!!!!   Dreams do come true!

Now if we can just keep me from hitting my head again before then.........

Photo Credit:  Amilie from Dommino Inc Photography

Hair and Make up:  Unique Angeline Irish