I’m a rebel!

 

*The song is Belle from the play Notre Dame de Paris – you can find it on its entirety on Youtube*

I have spent many days and nights watching plays like this one – musical or otherwise – although this is still one of my favourites. I also like to go to the theatre as often as my budget permits it. From time to time though, they bring back to the surface all the pain, regret and anger that I usually keep stored well away.

What does that have to do with being a rebel? I’ll get to that, I promise.

You see, six or seven years ago, I was in high school (college for the British people – I think. Anyway, the thing before University) and I discovered acting lessons. Those lessons then led to me actually being in a play – performing in front of people. It was exhausting, of course, but well worth the pain. We had rehearsals during the week, after school – and then, every Saturday, more acting lessons, physical exercises (a couple of hours at least) and more rehearsals. And on Sundays we were on stage.

It lasted a year – an amazing, exhausting year. We were in a workshop for yet another play, we were given the opportunity to talk with great actors, such as Marcel Iures and volunteer behind the stage at the biggest theatre in the city.

 

Can you guess where this is going?

 

And then my mother decided I cannot go anymore – partly because she said she didn’t have the money anymore (£25 a month) and partly (and I think this was the real reason) because she thought that I am wasting my time, that I should be preparing for my exams (A levels equivalent) and that most actors – except for the brilliant ones – starve. And then a friend of hers said that if I still want to pursue that career after my exams, she will arrange with a great actor she knows to tutor me.

Thus, I did what was expected of me, and stopped going, convinced that after another year and a half, after my exams, I will get the tutoring. And then life spiralled out of control, some bad things happened, my mother threatened that if I do not go to study something worthwhile in another country, she will throw me out of the house and be done with me forever (and stupid little me BELIEVED her), her friend that should have arranged the tutoring moved to another country, etc.

So here I am, six years later: I have a steady job, I am completely independent and I am proud of my achievements. However, I am angry with myself for always doing what was expected of me, not what I wanted. I am so angry that it’s hard for me to accept even the most well-meaning advice – moreover, I am always tempted to do the opposite of that advice, even if it’s not good for me. I like to joke with my partner that “I’m a rebel!” each time I don’t want to do something just because he suggested it.

There, I got to the rebel part in the end, see?

But I am not sure I really am a rebel – I am independent but not going back to acting, because it might cost me my (financial) independence. And also, because I feel like this is the responsible thing to do, and I have felt on my own skin what happens when adults don’t do the responsible things.

I keep telling myself that in the end, everyone has regrets (right?) and that I am proud of where I am in life, so maybe it’s a good idea to stop with the “what ifs” ( right???).

But can I? See, when I watch plays like Notre Dame de Paris I sometimes remember how it felt to be on stage. It’s not a “what if I would have tried?” is a “what if I wouldn’t have stopped doing what I loved with all my heart?” And somehow, that’s much harder to get over.

So what’s there to do? I have no idea. Interestingly, the words that helped me most were these:

“If you expect to feel good when you can’t, you’ll feel worse, not just because you’ll be disappointed, but because you’ll feel personally responsible for your pain. You feel like a failure, a loser, someone who’s lost his groove and can’t get it back. (…) You’re never defeated if what’s stopping you is reality. Defeat is wasting your time complaining about what you can’t change or trying to control it when you know you can’t. Defeat is being an idiot about not giving up on your wishes. Victory is putting up with the pain and humiliation of reality and trying to make things better anyway.”

(The quote is from a book called F*ck Feelings by Dr. Michael Bennett and Sarah Bennett)

Adiós

 

P.S. If someone reads this after the time machine has been invented, can you please go back in time before I gave up theatre and slap some sense of rebellion into me, please?
Thanks xx

J’ai peur

I am afraid of everything.

I know, it sounds like an overstatement… “Rhea, you can’t be afraid of everything – that’s simply not humanly possible. Are you afraid of soap or flowers or pencils? “

No. I am not. But I find a way to always be afraid of every experience, every change, everything. It might be more accurate to say I am always afraid than I am afraid of everything. While I can’t give you a complete list, here are some of the most important ones:

I am afraid of hurting the people I care about, I am afraid of hurting people in general.

I am afraid of bothering people, so my anxiety sky-rockets when I need to make a call, even if the call is to the bank, the telephone company, etc. I realise it’s their job, yet still I would rather not do it. This extends to things like ordering something and being given the wrong food. I would rather not eat it than have to go back and ask them to give me what I ordered.

I am even afraid of answering the phone. So I don’t, usually. I hope that if it’s important they’ll either leave a voicemail or text me. And then, once I know what it is they want to talk about, I call them back – or (more often than not) text them. There are only two people in my life that are exceptions from this rule and I would always answer.

I am afraid of looking/ sounding stupid or not being good enough. So I usually keep quiet and rarely join conversations. I am working on this though, I can now talk with my work colleagues, although I usually rather ask for their opinions than express mine. This also means that I am afraid of writing stories, practicing any skill with people around, talking in another language, etc. although I would love to do all those things. If I try to, it feels like I am failing – and ruining the pages I write on, or the language, or the story.

I am afraid of travelling. Not of accidents, usually – unless someone I care about is travelling with me, then yes, I am also concerned about that. I am afraid of forgetting important things at home, forgetting to lock the doors, losing the luggage, being late and losing the flight, of missing my train/bus/coach stop.

I am afraid of seeing and talking with people who do not like me. Or with whom I have fought. It terrifies me. I would rather sleep on the streets than be in the same house with that person. Unfortunately that’s not always realistic, if that person is a relative. And the fact that I know that I can’t really avoid it, or at least not without hurting other people I care about, makes me so anxious that I can’t stand being around myself.

Well, if I am honest, many situations make me so anxious that I can’t stand being around myself? So what do I do when I find myself feeling like that? Well, I used to eat – usually sweets. Now I watch YouTube videos, or movies, and play things like solitaire – to distract my mind from everything.

I made this blog to deal with part of my fears. And I think it’s a good strategy for me. But lately I found myself playing solitaire and watching comedy instead of writing…I mean… hit by a terrible curse that stopped me from writing.

So here’s an attempt to break the curse by writing something. I’ll try to go back to failing at things and documenting my journey soon.

In the meantime,

Adiós

The curse of the blog

I think there is a curse attached to “watch me fail” blogs that makes the authors stop writing, despite their best intentions. As I’ve mentioned in my first post, there is a watchmefail blog out there that is really interesting, but has been inactive since 2008.

At first I thought I am not writing because I am busier and lazier than usual and because I am completely obsessed with watching stand up comedy and playing solitaire in my spare time.

However, I am now convinced there is a curse, after all, I didn’t play that much solitaire:

solitaire

I don’t know exactly what this curse is, or how to lift it, but I promise I will start investigating – so I can go back to writing.

So yes, I will find out how to lift this curse… I just need to finish this round of solitaire first.

Adiós

Watch me fail at blogging!

Hi again,

Welcome to my journey!  Thank you for joining me in my attempt to fail at everything

Let’s jump right in, shall we? What better way of starting a blog about failing at everything, than by failing at blogging. And by failing I mean ‘be unsuccessful in achieving one’s goal‘, which is the definition our good friend Google will suggest, if you ever look for the definition of ‘to fail’.

In this case, my goal would be to have a good quality blog. A good quality blog with poor quality attempts at doing things – this should be interesting! Or entertaining. Or none of the above. I have no idea.

I could have made this post better by just deleting the failed attempts from the beginning of this post – but that would defy the whole purpose of showing the failure, the frustrating, boring and annoying process of writing this.

Nonetheless, I invite you to watch me fail, share your wisdom with me, be entertained, or bored, or exasperated at my clumsiness and inability to get anything right, or annoyed at the lack of posts (maybe I should have planned some in advance).

Have you lowered your standards yet? That’s okay, I’ll wait. You have ’till the next post.

Adiós!

Why ‘watchmefailmore’? Because ‘watchmefail’ was taken. It’s an interesting page, albeit inactive since 2008, so check it out if you’re bored.