I’m Still Here.

It’s been awhile, so I figured I’d post a little update.  It’s been a crazy, hectic past couple of weeks. I’m back in New York. Yep, drove up last week to try and get these headaches taken care of. I can’t help but notice the blatant irony in that I had to drive 900 something miles to see doctors and specialists about an injury sustained in a CAR ACCIDENT. Talk about illogical. It makes no sense to me. I mean, the accident happened in Tennessee…and the insurance 100 perfect willing to pay all the medical bills, yet the specialists in Tennessee wouldn’t see me. I don’t get it. It’s a bunch of bureaucratic bullshit, if you ask me. And it’s not like I didn’t try. Hell, I must have called a dozen different places–that’s not including the places and specialists each ER referred me to–and nothing. I got absolutely nowhere. I did manage to get into this one family clinic back in Nashville, but the visit wasn’t very productive. The doctor basically just gave me a quick exam, asked me a bunch of questions, and sent me on my way with a couple of new headache prescriptions and the same old “referral to a neurologist” advice.

Now that I’m back up in New York, I had an appointment the other day with my primary care doctor so that she could refer me to a neurologist…which didn’t exactly go to well. And by that I mean I didn’t at all like what she had to say. For starters, she informed me that the reason I was having all these issues with these meds not working for the headaches is because the meds the other doctors down in Tennessee prescribed me were all for migraines…and that it’s not migraines that I’m having…they’re concussion headaches. Apparently there’s a difference. Yeah. So obviously, after she told me that, I asked her why they kept giving me meds for migraines then and she literally just shrugged and said that it’s probably because I was in pain and they were trying to help–and that they probably didn’t want to tell me that there was nothing they could do for me. Wonderful right? So they knew there was nothing they could do…yet they gave me meds after meds that didn’t help and in some cases actually made the headaches worse. Yeah…’cause that’s not messed up or anything. Ridiculous.

So anyhow, I asked her what I was supposed to do if there was apparently nothing that could be done for the headaches medication-wise. Brain rest, was her answer. Meaning no bright lights or being out in the sun for any length of time, no flashing lights, no loud noises, no focusing or concentrating on the computer screen…etc. You get the point. So basically I’m supposed to shut myself in a dark room and do nothing but sleep. She prescribed a few meds, one of which is supposed to at least help me sleep…and it does for a bit, but it does nothing for the headaches. And in the morning I just feel so groggy–i hate it. She also wants me to be seen at the Concussion Clinic in Syracuse and an ENT if the nosebleeds don’t let up. Maybe I’ll get some answers from one of those. All things considered, I highly doubt that’ll happen. But who knows?

Yeah…like that’s going to happen. I’m a photographer, I have editing to do with the computer. And right now, things are absolutely crazy with the film blowing up like it is. I’m in charge of the blog and the production company website in addition to having just designed the theatrical/promotional posters for the film because the graphic designer Alan hired submitted crap designs. I didn’t really plan on doing the posters, but I got tired of writing code for the website and was fooling around a bit in Photoshop. I figured what the hell and sent him the poster…and he loved it. Then he got back to me and asked me to do another one…so I did. So yeah, I’ve been busy.

*3BB's Theatrical Poster*
*3BB’s Theatrical Poster*

And it’s bound to get busier. But in an exciting, awesome, great sort of way! When I said the film was blowing up…I wasn’t kidding. It’s insane how much attention it’s gotten. And it’s official, the film’s World Premiere will be in Atlanta in October. Then there’s a few other festivals…Charleston, Chicago, and some festival in Minnesota I believe. But that’s not even the most exciting part. It gets even better. We got an invitation from Berlin’s (that’s Germany, folks!) International Film Festival next year to attend. With that invitation, we’re automatically entered into Sundance, Toronto, and Cannes (France) –the 4 biggest International film festivals. How incredible is that? And just last week when I stopped by Alan’s to grab something I’d left at his house before I left for NY, he shared the news that he’d just gotten another festival invitation–to ROME, ITALY!!! I heard that and I immediately went, “Yep, I’m definitely getting a passport now…” lol. It’s mind-blowing how much attention and acclaim this film has gotten…and a little overwhelming, the fact that I actually had a part in this film, this great project. I’m so grateful and unbelievably proud of everyone involved. This is truly an opportunity of a lifetime and I’m taking it…hell, I’m grabbing it with both hands!

Now if I could just get rid of these headaches, it’d be absolute BLISS!

xoMESSIE

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Not Going Nowhere.

I’m starting to understand now why people who are in constant pain are always so miserable…it sucks. It really, really sucks. It’s been over a week now since the accident and the headaches STILL haven’t gone away. I’m beginning to think they’re never going to. At least, that’s how it feels right now, anyhow. I don’t get it. I went to the ER, I had the scans, I’m doing exactly what I’m supposed to be doing and taking the meds that the doctor told me take…and nothing. I’ve been taking the Percocet, Vicodin, and even the 800 mg Ibruprofen together and it hasn’t helped any, except to make me nauseous as hell. And throwing up just makes my head hurt even worse. I’m sure it doesn’t help that I haven’t had much sleep in the past week…but that’s not my fault. It’s a little hard to fall asleep when you have a splitting headache.

 

And to top it all off, there’s all the stress from the film and getting the photos  edited and finished, and we have the theatrical shoot tomorrow, so it’s been kind of crazy. Then there’s the deal with the car and the insurance company and the lawyers and I swear to God, if my head wasn’t already pounding, I’d scream. I probably sound and seem like I’m being a child and throwing a tantrum, but I don’t want to deal with all this. I really don’t. I don’t get why the damn insurance company went and totaled the car. I mean, I do–it’s cheaper to total it than actually pay for the repairs–but still. Those repairs the guy noted–I honestly don’t think they even need to be done right now. He said something about the radiator and the a/c condenser being bowed in the accident…and sure, down the road they’d probably have to be replaced, but right now the truck runs completely fine. Granted, the a/c doesn’t always blow out super cold air like it used to–which kind of sucks when you’re in the middle of a summer heat wave–but it’s not that big of a deal. I mean, what do you think people did before cars had a/c? They rolled down the window and dealt with it. I’m perfectly fine doing that. The insurance guy did tell me to keep an eye on the temperature gauge on the dash, just to make sure the car doesn’t start to overheat because of the radiator being bowed in the accident…but so far, I haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary with it.

 

Aside from those two things (the radiator and a/c condenser thingamajig), all the other repairs are mostly just cosmetic. And honestly, I don’t care if the bumper’s a little dented and cracked…I really don’t. It’s a car and it gets from point A to point B…and that’s really all I care about it. But since they totaled it, I’m pretty much screwed. Either I just suck it up and use the insurance money to get a new car or I keep the car, take the money, and go through who knows how long and ridiculous of a process that you have to go through after a car’s been totaled to get it legal and insured again. And my mother keeps calling, wanting to know what I’m going to do and I literally don’t have the patience to deal with it…or her. I know I have to, and yes, maybe I’m acting like a petulant child here, but I don’t want to. I just don’t. I don’t have the patience or the energy right now to deal with all of it. As if my mother calling and telling me to call the insurance people and let them know what I want to do isn’t frustrating and annoying enough…today she went and sent me a text asking if I thought the truck would make it back to New York. Yeah. I pretty much sent her a text back telling her she’s crazy if she actually thinks I’m going to drive 15 hours so she can deal with all the  truck stuff with the title and the insurance and whatnot. Hell no, it’s NOT happening. I hate that drive. And there’s no way in hell I’m going to make it when I’ve got the headache from hell that doesn’t seem to be going anywhere anytime soon. I mean, I get that she’s trying to be helpful by dealing with the whole car end of it all for me…but no. I’m not doing it. And it’s not just about the drive itself–it’s the fact that if I do drive the truck back, once everything gets taken of with turning in the plates and finding a replacement–then I’m still going to have to make that awful drive back down here. Of course, she’s probably not even considering that because for some reason, she’s got this idea in her head that in light of the accident and my concussion and these damn headaches that won’t let up, I’m just going to change my mind about Tennessee and move back to New York. Yeah…she’s got another thing coming because that’s not happening. Hell, it doesn’t even make sense. I got into an accident…yes. And the headaches aren’t no walk in the park…but even if I wanted to–which I don’t, by the way–I can’t just up and leave and go back to New York. I don’t know what she’s thinking. I mean, for starters–I have a lease that’s not up until January. Not to mention the film and my work. I have commitments and obligations here that I can’t just up and walk away from it all simply because some guy wasn’t paying attention to the road and ran into me. It doesn’t work like that. And even if it did–I don’t want to go back to New York. I just don’t. And maybe it’s horrible and selfish of me to not want to be there with my family…but I don’t. I like it here. Aside from the crazy drivers and the interstates that could easily be mistaken for a demolition derby the majority of the time with all their traffic and accidents…Nashville is a beautiful city. And I love it. I love the people, the atmosphere–all of it. And I like the person I can be–the person that I am–down here.  I mean, don’t get me wrong or anything–I totally wouldn’t have minded having my family close by when I got in the accident instead of them being 900 miles away…of course I wouldn’t have minded. It was scary as hell and it hurt–it still hurts–and I definitely feel like an idiot at times  because I have absolutely no idea what I’m supposed to be doing or how I’m supposed to handle all of this stuff with the doctors and the insurance and the lawyers. I’ve never been in any kind of accident like this before, so I don’t know what’s supposed to be done. And I’m entirely grateful that my mother’s offered to deal with the car end…but she’s going to have to do it from up there because there’s no way in hell I’m driving to New York. No way. Even if by some miracle I woke up tomorrow and the headaches were gone…I still wouldn’t drive up there. I’d like to see them make that 15 hour drive and see how they like it. Hell, they won’t even come down here to visit because it’s too far of a drive. But they have no problem expecting me to do it and acting like it’s not a big deal when I say I won’t do it because of the drive. I mean, I may be part gypsy–as my grams is always saying–and I do enjoy traveling…just not where the driving is concerned. I hate driving. For real. I think it was fun and exciting for about a month after I got my license at 16…and that’s about it. After that it was all, go here, go there, give so-and-so a ride…yeah. It’s not just having to be the driver, either. I can’t stand being the passenger in a car for any real length of time, either. Probably because I get bored easily…that and car-sick. So yeah, my preferred mode of transportation for traveling is definitely not a car. Planes are okay though. I love flying. It’s faster and I typically just take a couple of Dramamine pills and take a nap for the duration of the flight.

 

So anyhow, I don’t know where this all leaves me or what I’m going to do with the truck or the rest of it…but I’ll figure it out, I guess. One thing I do know for sure though is that I’m not driving to New York. If my mother wants to come down here and take care of things, all the more power to her. But I’m staying put and hopefully–hopefully I’ll figure out something to do about these damn headaches very, very soon.

 

‘Til Then,

xoMESSIE

How Is This Still A Conversation.

So I got just a tad bit annoyed with the Bestie earlier. We were chatting on Facebook while I was making the drive back to New York and when she found out about my last-minute travel plans, she sent me a message saying she was going to the first Saranac Thursday show of the season tonight and suggested that I meet up with her there if I got in early enough. As in Saranac Thursday…a summertime concert series held in the courtyard of the brewery where Mr. Wonderful (sarcasm) works. Yeahhhhh. I don’t know if she was kidding and thought she was being funny or what…but I didn’t think it was cute. And maybe I’m being just a bit too over-analytical about it…but if I am, it’s because I’ve just about run out of patience for that kind of thing these days–those smart-@$$ little quips about HIM and that ENTIRE situation. It’s gotten old. Like really, really old.

 

As for the Bestie, she knows better. Or she should know by now, rather. It’s not funny. Not to me. Which is the point I hopefully made perfectly clear in my replied text to her afterwards. I wasn’t mean. I simply told her how I felt. Which was that it would be in a cold day in HELL before I ever stepped foot in that courtyard for one of those events–or anywhere in the vicinity on one of those nights–ever again. It really is that simple. I have zero interest in being anywhere that place or seeing any of those people–especially HIM. And chances are, with it being the first event of the season, he most likely will be in attendance. That considered, I don’t want to see him. I just don’t. And not because I’m still naive and ridiculously hung up on the guy. Believe me, I am soooo not. At all. I got over him a long time ago. Years ago, in fact.

 

Still, that doesn’t mean I want to see or run into him. Just because I’ve moved on doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten all that happened or the hell he put me through. I haven’t forgotten any of it. And maybe it shouldn’t, but it still hurts a little, even now. And for that, I’m still angry. I still hate him. I haven’t forgiven him. And I might sound like a bitch for it–but I don’t want to forgive him. I don’t. That’d be too easy…and he doesn’t deserve my forgiveness…not when I know damn well he doesn’t feel the least bit sorry for any of the things he did and what he put me through.

 

It really bothers me that people think it’s okay to bring him up in conversation…for the Bestie to even think it’s okay to joke about something like that and actually suggest I go somewhere where there’s even the slightest chance he might be. I don’t care that it’s been well over 5 years now. And I can’t stand how people assume I’m just supposed to smile and go where he might be and not feel physically sickened at the possibility of catching even a glimpse of him.

 

I love the Bestie to death, but it’s something like this that is exactly one of the reasons why I stopped talking to her for that year. Her complete disregard for the fact that I want nothing to do with him. That I don’t want to hear his name or talk about him in any way, shape, or form. I didn’t then. And I don’t now. I feel bad for saying it, but it’s almost like she doesn’t understand or know who I am anymore.  If she did, she’d understand just how messed up it is for her to even suggest such a thing, whether it being in jest or not. Nothing about what happened between him and I is funny. Nothing. That period of my life was–hands-down–one of the worst of my life. I was a broken, ridiculous mess. And I nearly let it all destroy my life.

 

But I didn’t. I didn’t let that happen. I held it together. I picked up the pieces of my heart and my life and glued them back as well as I could. And it was hard. It was hell. It took everything I had to turn my life around, but I did it. Metaphorically speaking, my moving to Nashville was in a sense, the final act. The final step. I picked up my life and moved it 900 miles away from everyone and everything I’ve ever known. In part–yes–because of that whole situation. The way I see it, moving to Tennessee was my way of closing the book–one and for all–on that horrible chapter in my life. Those events, that place, those people, HIM–I put it all behind me the moment I pulled out of the driveway that day back in January. And not once did I look back. And I’m certainly not going to do it now. I’m not going to open that can of worms. People don’t get it, but even something as simple as going to one of those events would be a huge step backwards. And I’m done going backwards. These days, I’m moving forward. Just forward. And I’m making no exceptions.

 

But it’s not just him. It’s that whole scene. The drinking–all of that–it’s just not me anymore. I have no interest in any of that behavior I used to engage in. After all, where did it ever get me? Nowhere but in trouble and heartbreak, that’s where. I’ve moved on. Physically, emotionally…in every way. As far as I’m concerned, he no longer exists. He disappeared, probably to the same place as the girl I used to be disappeared to. And I have no desire to go searching for either of them. I don’t particularly like talking up Nashville to the Bestie or bragging about how well things are going in my life down there, but it’s the truth. I’m happy there. Content. I went looking for a clean slate and I found it. And I’ll be damned if I’ll give it up for a mere couple of hours of wasted socializing.

 

Above all that though, I’m only going to be here for a couple of weeks. I came here for some down-time and to spend time with my family and friends because only god knows when I’ll get the chance to visit again after this. I want to enjoy this time. Not spend it miserable because I had the misfortune to run into the last people I want to see at this point and time in my life. It’s just not worth it. They’re not worth it. They never were.

 

If the Bestie wants to hang out in a different setting, one that doesn’t involve alcohol and individuals I despise with every fiber of my being, then I have no problem with it. If not…well, then that’s her choice. Like it or not, I’ve changed. And though it saddens me to admit it, so has our friendship. Honestly, it was inevitable. A fact of life. We grew up. We’re not teenagers anymore. We’re adults with completely separate lives. That’s just the reality of it all. And while it’s bittersweet, part of me thinks it’s kind of a good thing. By that, I don’t mean that I don’t want us to stop being friends–I want nothing of the sort. All I’m saying is that my decision to move to Nashville was a good thing in that it forced me to grow up…to stop leaning on others for support. Moving 900 miles away was pure insanity and outrageous. And there was a point in time when I never would have been able to do it…when I was too scared to be without my family. To scared to not have the Bestie joined at the hip like we’d been for years. Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like if she’d followed my suggestion and moved down to Nashville with me on one of the numerous times that I suggested to her that she should–and I think that while it would have been nice to be able to share these experiences and this incredible success I’ve found there with her–I also think that doing it on my own made me stronger, more confident, more assured. I did something I never thought I’d have the nerve to do. I left. And all this happiness and success–I worked hard for it. Just me. I earned it. No one gave it to me or did it for me. I did it all. And I’m pretty impressed and proud of myself, I have to admit.

 

Everyone always says that the best revenge is letting those people in your past that hurt you see you happy. If that’s so, well, here I am. He can look all he wants. I’m happy, in spite of all he did and all that happened. I did this. I figured out how to be happy. And the great part about it is it that it had absolutely nothing to do with him. Nada. Zip. Nothing. I’m happy because I want to be. And because I know that even with all the mistakes I may have made, I’ve earned the right to be. Most importantly, I deserve it.

 

And knowing that he can’t touch it, ruin it, or take it [my happiness] away this time…well, I’ve got to honestly…it’s pretty much the best feeling in the world. Truly. The. Best. 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂

 

xoMESSIE

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