Another round of goodbyes

I sat in the theatre tonight, a theatre I once spent days on end in, and watched a beautiful show from the audience. For the first time in a long time I hadn’t directed, choreographed, produced, or consulted on a single thing in the show.

I wanted to be in this show so badly, but my health- both mental and physical- prevented that from being an option. Tonight, I watched my friends more than excel in the roles they played. I cried through the whole damn show. Tears of joy and pride, tears of sorrow for the thought of missing these impeccable human beings I’ve been so lucky to make a family with. Tears for Howard, who taught me so damn much on that stage and who died too soon.

My life has changed so drastically in the last few months. Sitting there in the dark tonight, it all caught up with me.

I put my biological family to rest the day I buried my grandfather. I no longer have any obligations to them, and I’m not planning on entertaining their behavior any time again soon. They don’t even know I’m moving, that I’ve taken another huge step in my career. That I turned another one down in order not to be in the same location as them.

I said goodbye to someone I loved deeply with my whole heart, but who was mean and toxic and sucked the life out of me like it was her job. I won’t entertain her bad behavior ever again either. But I hope she finds happiness and lets go of her fear. I hope one day she finds the strength to realize the core parts of her that she hides don’t make her any less intelligent, beautiful, or worthy of fantastic friendships and deep love. But there will never be a friendship between us again.

I’m switching jobs, houses, states. Nothing is the same as it was the day 2016 started. Literally nothing. Not even my fucking hair color.

Tonight, as I stopped by the gas station to fill up before yet another early morning drive across state lines, I was amazed at and terrified of myself. I’ve turned my life over on its head, shaken out the loose change weighing me down, and righted it all again with a lighter heart.

I am terrified to leave. I am terrified of failing. Maybe, too, a part of me is terrified of succeeding.

But with the love of my friends- my chosen family- I’m going to be fine. These people won’t let me fall on my face. So I’ll cry for them as I move the first load of things into my new home tomorrow. And then I’ll smile, knowing they’ll all be around for some wine on the porch before long.

Adulting, though. Jesus Christ, it’s hard. Where’s the Xanax? I kid. Kind of. I’m a diagnosed depressed and anxious woman, I’m allowed to make those jokes now.