One down, 999,999 to go.

It took a long time and I never thought I’d see it but, tonight, a clown died. It took phenomenal fire power, like one of those gigantic monsters in a video game, but it finally bellowed its last breath and died.

It was the clown who liked to proclaim that I simply MUST DO IT ALL AND DO IT RIGHT AND DO IT THE WAY EVERYONE ELSE WANTS ME TO DO IT OR I’M A HUGE FAILURE. Sorry for the caps but the clown only talked in loud, screaming caps.

This clown has been the recipient of multiple attacks in the past three years, particularly from those of you close to me. Your constant reminders that what I want is the most important thing and to really figure out what is important to me, not to the whole world, were like little, continuous shots at this huge, looming clown. But like the video games, it was hard to tell if these little shots were having any effect. I don’t have a red bar at the top of my screen to tell me how much life this creature has and I have tried to hang on to my ammunition and just keep throwing things at it, hoping some day that I would throw enough at it (with the help of my friends) that maybe this clown would be mortally wounded and eventually die.

He died tonight when I realized I could do whatever the hell I wanted. That’s it. Whatever I chose to do was right. It’s been coming on for a while but I never could look at it because the clown was always standing in front of that fact, denying me access.

Tonight, I threw the biggest piece of ammunition at him that I have – putting myself first.

I am under a lot of pressure with two shows and two jobs and my parents and life in general. I’m trying to juggle about 20-25 hours per week of medical transcription, 30 hours of teaching, six hours of additional training to teach, 12 or more hours of rehearsal, three to six hours of writing with Ranger Smith and Madame H, never mind my own writing, obligations to the Ark, obligations to Eclectic (which I have not been keeping up on), ferrying my folks around as necessary…

Had a great rehearsal tonight but have spent today trying to figure out how to juggle all of the above. I have to find props and wardrobe for USC show, go to admin training in the morning, teach two classes tomorrow, tidy my room, do some laundry, finish PJR’s present, take Dad for blood tests tomorrow…. Aughhhhh!

But then I had this crazy thought – what’s most important? The USC show is the most important thing right now. What’s second? Jobs, unfortunately, right now as I have bills to pay. Parents are kind of priority #2-1/2, sometimes #2 depending on how Dad’s feeling. Writing and other creative work is third. Admin training, “tech” (which is art class), and everything else is last.

What does that mean?

That means I sent an email to my supervisor at Mission Renaissance saying that I cannot come to admin or tech until after the USC show. Yes, it’ll set me back and it means I won’t get a little bit of pay for going to admin but it also means I can get some sleep in the mornings after nights like tonight where I just got home at 11:35 and am exhausted and wide awake at the same time. I don’t have to immediately try to force myself to sleep when sleep is a long way away. I don’t have to wake up in the morning and try to cram KK work in (which, luckily, I don’t have any tomorrow) and then head to admin and then scramble to get home and get myself together to go and teach and then…

It means I can let myself unwind tonight, spend some time with Twyla, wake up later tomorrow, take some time in the morning to do the things I need to do and then go and teach. It means I can take time for myself and not run myself ragged and crazy and exhausted, which leads to getting horribly run down, which leads to not feeling good, which leads to an inability to keep up with this crazy schedule, which leads to BIG CLOWN telling me I am letting everyone down because I’m not doing/being all to/for everyone and how dare I take the time to slow down and do what I want because I’m letting everyone down and I’m a disappointment and I’m lazy and stupid (wow, this clown sounds exactly like my ex-husband) and how dare I not do everything at once, which leads to depression and suicidal ideation. Not a good combination.

The clown didn’t like when I told him that I just didn’t care, I wasn’t going to admin tomorrow. The USC show is the most important thing right now, as well as my well-being. The clown bellowed and screamed and stomped his feet and caused me to waver momentarily. Maybe I didn’t need to sleep that much. I haven’t sleep much the past few days, what were a few more? But then, I heard a chorus of voices behind me, who sounded remarkably like my friends and my loved ones, shouting battle cries and cheers of support. I stood up to that clown and said, fuck you, I’m not going. I need sleep, I need rest, I need to focus on this show. Tech and admin will be there after the 9th, no one will die because I didn’t go read another policy about how to teach or because I’m a few weeks later finishing “the rack.” The clown tried throwing things at me but I just dodged them easily, putting my fingers in my ears and basically saying, nee-ner, nee-ner, nee-ner, you can’t catch me, and running away like the adult I am. The clown lumbered after me, but I was too agile, telling him I didn’t need to justify my choices to him. It’s my life and my priorities. I finally turned and stood my ground and just shouted up at him, over his noise, over his bellowing, saying, “Shut up! I know what I want. I know what’s important. I’m not disappointing anyone and they will understand. I don’t need you to make me feel like a failure because I am not a failure because these choices are exactly in line with what I want and with my priorities. So fuck off.”

The clown swayed, the death blow delivered as I walked away, not throwing anything more because I didn’t need to. I heard the squeak as he fell on his little red nose and the thwang as his big floppy feet flipped out from under him. He whimpered a bit and then expired.

For a moment, the remaining 999,999 clowns held their breath as they watched their brother fall. They were astonished, never having seen one of their ranks face down, his clown white spreading around him. Then they started bellowing.

But I am not hearing them right now because I know that they can be felled. I know that all I have to do is find their Achilles heel and cut it off. I know that I can do it, with the ammunition augmented by those around me.

I know the war is not over yet but at least the first battle is won.

I won’t say “rest in peace, clown #1” because I hope you rot in hell with all the other pieces of my life that tormented and almost destroyed me.