*smooch* (ldy) wrote,
*smooch*
ldy

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I'm trying not to be psychotic. Really I am.

Show opens tonight! It's going to be a great show! And I will be magnificent!

See? Not psychotic at all.

I have the best boyfriend in the world! These lyrics were in my inbox this morning-- Come What May (Moulin Rouge)-- along with several very thoughtful text messages!

See? Not psychotic at all.

No feelings left for the pirate! Nope, not a one!

See? Not psychotic at all.

I am definitely not spending my evenings skirting madness, screaming and crying and talking to myself in an empty house!

See? Not psychotic at all.

Quitting smoking hasn't affected my brain chemistry in a disturbing manner! I'm not hallucinating or having crazy mood swings!

See? Not psychotic at all.

I am being very productive at my job and love what I do! I will bring this company to new heights!

See? Not psychotic at all.


I said wasn't psychotic. I never claimed to be 100% truthful. (Except about the bf part. He really is pretty damned amazing. And isn't it ironic that the one time in recent history I really don't feel deserving of Tremendous Love is the one time it appears? Seriously, it's freaking me out a little.) (Oh, and that it will be a great show overall.)

I will keep breathing. I'll not harrass the pirate in any way. I will perform wonderfully, and nobody will know I'm not happy with my work. I will focus and act and not let on to a soul that I'm stark raving on the inside. I will not lose my voice again. I will quietly tread this edge of a scream and know that someday my body will adapt to its new smokeless state and everything will return to normal. I will gently persuade my perception to be peaceably in the present.

Thank heavens I'm well-prepared and not at all nervous about the show proper. It's just everything else that's driving me crazy.

*thinks*

I've been so unhappy with my work in the play. But it just struck me that I've been putting on the best performance of my whole damned life! (Well, minus the gaping chink (right and sinister) in the wall where I cried my ass off at rehearsal. Oh, and that damned email that either never made it or was so indly ignored.)

I'd like to thank the Academy.

*cough*

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

OK, director just said nice things about my work in an email and suddenly everything's all better.

Proof that I AM, indeed, psychotic. ;)

(Because usually I'm secure enough not to give a rat's ass what anybody else thinks of my work.)

*snort*


This, too, shall pass, Ldy; this, too. And when it does, you'll be a nonsmoker for the rest of your life.
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