If you’re reading this it means that I have turned 23. Yes, it’s true. As I’m writing this I’m still 22 on Christmas Eve, but I have a feeling that I’m not going to be in the mood for writing on my birthday, so I’m going to set that cool timer thing that WordPress has and then this post will magically be posted onto the internet on the 27th of December 2014, 23 years after I first made my appearance into this world. I was originally supposed to be born on Christmas Day, but I was like “Screw you guys, I’m staying another two days.” And I’ve pretty much kept up that attitude throughout my life.
The nice thing about having my birthday this late in the year is that I get to reflect on both the year and my getting another year older. So, here goes…
I was quite happy with turning 22. After completing my studies, I felt quite positive about my future and my career. I didn’t have an agent, but I had managed to get some work that seemed promising at the time. January brought a lot of excitement for me. I was excited to spread my wings and dive in. Unfortunately, when you are in your early 20’s you are at an age where people who are more less in their early 30’s and older like to take advantage of you and make you believe a lot of things in order to get you to do things for them. Around February, I began to realize that I was being taken for a ride by more than one individual. Welcome to showbiz, kid. At the same time I started trying to learn how to drive, which was also an immense source of frustration. So, I decided to take that frustration and do something with it: blogging. I didn’t really know anything about it, but I had a lot of free time that I spent reading the awesome musings of The Bloggess, and she inspired me to start doing it too.
At first the whole blogging thing seemed to go well. I had a relatively good amount of views and it seemed like people were responding well to the posts, but after a while the numbers began to dwindle and I said fuck it.
Anyway, after that point I think I kind of gave up on life in general for a while, because the next few months just flashed by. I realized that the wonderful carrot that had been dangling in front of my nose was beginning to rot and that nothing was going to come of what I was doing. And the driving thing was also pissing me off.
But a change came along when I performed at an arts festival in July. Suddenly I remembered that I loved theatre and that I was 22, and not 82. Things began to look different again. I guess I had some kind of artistic resuscitation. I also started meeting some new people who I think will play important roles in my life next year.
All of this positive reinforcement encouraged me to start blogging again. This time around I stopped worrying about statistics. I’m just writing because I want to and because I have something to say. If you don’t like it you can fuck off.
I finally won the battle and got my license! Things were looking good.
And then they went wrong. Very wrong.
For the first time in my life I lost someone close to me in a tragic and unexpected death. I’ve always been quite dark, but I’ve never known darkness like this. Death is so final, especially when it is unexpected.
To make matters worse, my 18 year old cat passed away in November, and I don’t even know how to deal with all the loss, so I do it a little bit at a time.
So, here I am at the end of another year. I think what makes this year different is that I really do feel older. Previous years I always felt the same way I did before. I felt wiser and stronger with each birthday. But this year I feel weathered and battered. My entire being, mind, body, and soul, feels older and heavier than before. I guess that’s what sorrow and hardship do to you. I do believe that I will feel young again. I just need time to heal. And cry. I’ve still got a lot of crying to do.
I always think about the song “22”, by Lily Allen: “When she was 22, her future looked bright, but she’s nearly 30 now and she’s out every night.” I hope that doesn’t end up being me.
All in all, this wasn’t such a bad year. I’ve had much worse years. I got to see the legendary South African production of The Rocky Horror Show, I discovered penis candles. I met a boy that I really liked, despite the fact that he didn’t like me. I came up with the brilliant idea of South African Horror Story, although I’m still waiting to hear from Ryan Murphy… I had some really great times. Because, despite all the darkness, I do find happiness. Life isn’t really that bad. But I can be, if you want me to. *wink*