Aye aye aye aye aye aye aye aye aye.
One of the hardest parts about this (I say that about all the parts all the time don’t I? “One of the hardest parts…”)
Anyway, an exceptionally hard part of this has been leaving my dream program.
And it feels like I am reminded of that at every turn…
When I’ve been trying to move boxes out of my storage unit, boom! There’s my fancy folder that I got on the first day. There’s my ID badge. What do I do with these things? Throw them out? That feels wrong. And keeping them feels awful.
What about the “I Love New York” mug I got in the airport after my audition? It reminds me of one of the best times of my life, and of an incredible friendship…
And now i think of how all that turned out – how one of the best times became one of the worst times (not to quote that book)… And also how much my friendships that used to be so beautiful and strong (where someone flew to New York just to be with me for this!) are now just weak or very strained or non-existent.
Also, even outside of my apartment, BMI is everywhere. There was even a sign on a hotel lobby door for BMI. What?! Why does Broadcast Music Incorporated have a sticker on a hotel lobby door? What is happening? Is some magical trauma fairy just going around to places in the world to make sure I’m gonna be reminded of BMI at every turn?
Anyway.
It’s been painful. And it’s been painful over and over and over and over and over and over and over.
[This is part of the sexual assault series.]