Having the sense to write the thing.

Recently finished reading one of Elizabeth Gilbert's book, now I've actually forgotten the title....but anyway it's the one she wrote about the whole "great minds think alike" theory. She'd had this great idea for a book, and somehow, when she didn't act on the idea herself, the idea leaped into someone else's brain and that person wrote a best seller with her idea. She was cool with it. She realized that the universe wants to get its shit done, you know? Not wait around for the procrastinator to get around to executing the idea. In light of that I had to wonder why my seven stories haven't leaped to other minds? I still have charge of these stories, for some absolutely insane reason since I can't manage to execute any darn thing I set my mind to. It could be that my ideas are really stupid. Maybe I'm the poor schmuck with too much life happening while I outline the stories, hardly managing to get past my index cards. Maybe I surround myself with distractions. But, and you won't believe this....and only ONE PERSON ON THIS EARTH can verify this to be the truth....and isn't it a shame to have to verify statesments....but about ten years ago I had an idea for a book I started writing. About the things that have distracted me since I was 24 years old, things which have gotten in the way of all my goals....yep, that book is still sitting in my computer, never to see the light of day, because that book is called "Food, Money and Men." Seriously. In the midst of writing this genius piece, Carl ran into the house one day..... with a book. "oh my God, Ang. You gotta stop writing. LOOK!" And he showed me the book. THE BOOK. And that is how I met Elizabeth Gilbert, whose idea was SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO good that it also jumped into my brain and probably a million others, but she had sense to believe in herself and write the thing. Full circle. Read her new book. Felt like the universe was speaking to me. Just do it.

The Lie He Chose

Hearing about it in the news- celebrities with bipolar disorder-people we all love to watch or hear about-celebrities with disabling mood swings during which a person goes from a high, manic phase to a low, depressed one- people who can afford nice rehab centers- whose famous husbands or wives or partners or parents can find an audience to listen to what it's like to live with someone with bipolar disorder- can bring it out into the open - acceptable- movie- literary icons with bipolar disorder- Scarlett O'Hara was possibly bipolar, we know Vivien Leigh probably was- a time when there were no medications, or ways to talk about it outloud-lost years for families, marriages, relationships, lost income earning years-suicidal thoughts- rebellion-the most famous of artists- like Van Gogh- suffering in lonely isolation for a life time- unsuccessful- cutting an ear off. I'm a woman in my fifties, usually have a couple of jobs to support myself, had a small, critically acclaimed theater company that I am most proud of- have a brilliant beautiful child and grandchildren- had difficult parents who probably both suffered from depression, most upsetting of all- a mostly homeless, angry brother who drank-who cannot experience "family" with the rest of us- but the saddest for me personally is the breakdown of a twenty year relationship with a funny, kind, talented man who chose bipolar disorder over me. Bipolar disorder without medications over me. And I am a very selfish person. I wanted him to choose me. Long ago, that was what I wanted. But bipolar disorder - the kind that takes over the brain and progressively gets worse and worse gave him no choice. If there were medications that could have given him a choice, he wouldn't have taken them. When he was sane he didn't remember that he had bipolar, that the episodes would come back. When he was insane, he didn't care. He was (and probably still is) a wonderful, talented actor on stage and in some films. A terrific director. He owned his own business twenty years ago. He was really. Adorable. Now he's in his fifties, mostly raging all the time, completely disabled as far as I can tell, with this absolutely insane way of processing information. He lives the lie he chose. I either live the lie with him, or try to save myself. Lawrence Olivier once said something along the lines of "sometimes there is only room in the lifeboat for one." I don't know whether he shoved Vivien Leigh out of the lifeboat or just ventured out on his own, but I sure know why he did try to save himself. My friends and family adored him, but everyone figured falling in love with an actor was probably not going to be the life I wanted to live- acting is so unstable financially- unless you "make it" and the chances of that are slim to none. But hopeful. Always hopeful. But the truth is this talented , funny, kind person I fell for twenty years ago? Well, laugh at this, but it's true. Everyone wants a Van Gogh in his house, but NOBODY wants VAN GOGH in his house." Nobody wants bipolar disorder . To love someone with bipolar disorder - well, don't. Just don't.