Bearings: Volume Fourteen: The Journals of Meghan McDonnell, #14

By Meghan McDonnell

In Bearings: Volume Fourteen, Meghan McDonnell navigates life in Los Angeles: marriage, acting classes and auditions, and unfulfilling day jobs. She grapples with depression and ruminates about identity and class and finding her place in the world.

With searing candor, McDonnell distills daily life with uncommon humor and honesty. In brilliant, lyrical prose she brings depth and illumination to themes of family, friendship, ambition, love, redemption, and identity to reveal a detailed glimpse of the universal.

Her powerful observations and deeply felt insights about the human condition, struggles and transcendence included, reveal a courageous woman holding up a light in the thick of life as it happens.

Discover your interior self. Surprise yourself by unlocking your life within through yielding to the vulnerability of another voice, one that may sound startling like your own.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Meghan McDonnell
• Release date: Jul 24, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393688099

Meghan McDonnell

Meghan McDonnell lives in Walla Walla with her husband and two kitties. When she’s not writing or reading, she spends time outdoors, sits by a fire, solves crossword puzzles, and pretends to garden. She’s been known to listen to a true crime podcast or ten and wants to be a detective. You can learn more about her by reading her books.

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Bearings: The Journals of Meghan McDonnell

Volume Fourteen

Meghan McDonnell

Copyright 2019 Meghan K. McDonnell

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Titles by Meghan McDonnell:

Minor: Volume One

Novice: Volume Two

Limbo: Volume Three

Elsewhere: Volume Four

Faithful: Volume Five

Vespers: Volume Six

Onward: Volume Seven

Sojourn: Volume Eight

Ingress: Volume Nine

Witness: Volume Ten

Listless: Volume Eleven

Falter: Volume Twelve

Amateur: Volume Thirteen

Note

All names and identifying characteristics have been changed to protect identities. I have solely recorded my interpretations and opinions of all events. Certain place names have been changed. Aside from minor edits, all else is as I wrote it at the time. If you’re new to the journals, welcome. If you’re a veteran, thank you for coming back for more. You’ll find links to songs, books, films, and more throughout the text, and a playlist at the end.

Contents

May 2008

June 2008

July 2008

August 2008

September 2008

October 2008

Playlist

Monday, May 5, 2008

I was in a bad mood so I decided to write letters and postcards to people I love and it made me feel better. I woke up late, showered, and did laundry. I was ready to leave for the day when I realized Carson had taken the car key to work. The rage. The horror. I walked to Pavilions to get berries while I waited for him to come home.

We ran errands and I took him back to work. I yelled. I swore. Not at him. It felt kinda good to be pissed off about something particular and not just my life. I honked and swore at an innocent lady on my way here (Venice Grind). I had big plans for the day (this is jest) and then it got ruined. I say this in a baby voice – the voice I use when I need to suck on a big baby bottle (coffee or booze). In the car, I thought, Geez. You are a selfish, immature baby who needs a diaper change. I feel depression kicking around in me.

I was less than impressed with the work in class yesterday. I drove to Los Feliz for my first rehearsal with my new scene partner Fiona. She’s funny. We’re doing a scene from Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion. We decided our song will be I’ll Stand by You by the Pretenders. We choreographed a dance to do at the start of our scene. I’m getting into it. We’re meeting on La Cienega later for another rehearsal.

After yesterday’s meeting, Car and I met Caleb for dinner at Malo on Sunset. We wanted to see Iron Man but had a couple hours to kill so we went for coffee at the Coffee Bean on Hillhurst. Cassie called while we were there. She and I will be together again, fireside in her backyard, on Thursday. I need time with her.

For my scene with Fiona, I can’t tell if Cassidy or Elizabeth is my substitution.

There’s another woman out here on the patio near me. She’s not doing anything but chain-smoking. She’s beautiful but she looks like she’s in a great deal of emotional pain. Hmmm. Familiar? I’m tired of my own great emotional pain.

Last night, I asked Carson and Caleb if they ever get depressed. They both said, Yeah.

Caleb said, At least you have someone who’s always there, someone to talk to.

I said, Yeah. But I still get lonely.

Am I just dissin’ Car? I told them I feel distracted and down. I told them I heard them discussing Mario Kart and going to see Iron Man and film projects they want to work on and it made me think, Why can’t I just get excited about stuff?

At the coffee shop last night, I knew Carson had to pee so I asked him to come into the bathroom with me so we could both go. He asked, Why do you always want me to go into the bathroom with you in public?

I said, Why is it such a big deal?

Carson said, It’s weird.

I said, "You think it’s weird or people think it’s weird?"

Caleb said it was weird when we got back to the table and Carson said a woman gave him a dirty look when we came out of the bathroom.

It bugged me that he said something about it and told him it reminds me of when my Mom and sister used to always ask me if I was wearing a bra or deodorant when I was in high school.

I hated that. They were essentially asking me if I was acceptable for public.

While we drove earlier, Carson said he needs to get the ball rolling creatively. I told him I know. He said he needs my help. I said I support him and he can talk to me about any- and everything but the onus to do something is on him. He said he knows. I told him his inaction wouldn’t frustrate me if I didn’t think he was talented and hardworking. He said he knows. I said I wouldn’t challenge him and inquire about what he wants if I didn’t think he was an impressive person. He said he knows.

Then I yelled about the day and he knew it wasn’t directed at him. I wish he’d get a job in film production. I wish he could make me feel more beautiful and desirable. Is it a matter of you get what you give? This is an extension of all the shit that’s been in my head lately.

You stick it out with your partner because you know they’re the one that you’re going through life with. They get you. Otherwise, you walk around like this broken person, going from person to person, trying to fix yourself through them. But that never works. Fixing yourself is a solitary journey.

Last Monday night during an intro class, Neal and I wrote notes back and forth. I told him he’s a sensitive soul and that one day he’ll meet a woman and it will change his notions about women and it will defy the concepts he’s inherited from his father. He knows his parents have done a number on his ideas about relationships. We talked on the phone on Tuesday. I told him being around him reminded me of being around Daniel, an old coworker in Seattle. I said it’s strange to meet someone you take to when you’re married but that it’s good because it teaches you to enjoy the person without getting tangled up with them. Neal said, Well, yeah. I guess it’s easier to just not have to deal with it or take the chance.

When we fall for someone, we worry they will get restless, move on. We worry we won’t be enough for them. We don’t think we’re capable of that happening within us. We are so given over to the other person that we can’t conceive of ever feeling different toward them than we do when we’re first falling. We’re so vulnerable to and focused on them that only they seem to have the power to make decisions or shatter us. This isn’t true though.

In my emotional diary for the scene in class last Wednesday, I wrote to Lucas. It was weird because my substitution for the other character kept switching from Lucas to Carson and back. And sometimes it was Neal and when that happened, no substitution was necessary.

In my scribbles to Lucas, I wrote that I didn’t want all my ideas of love to be for naught. I said I didn’t want to lose the person in me who is pure and innocent, that he woke me up to love and I’ve spent my life since trying to protect myself from what he exposed in me. I wrote that I’d never felt as tender and exposed and I’d never felt a soulful sexual connection until him. His touch hurt with goodness, realness, truth.

Were we supposed to love again with other people? Yes. I wrote that I mourn for this innocent person in me who fell in love with the innocent person in him. I wrote that (for the sake of the scene) I’d die if he didn’t fight for me because if that isn’t real love, WTF?

Love, Meghan

Saturday, May 10, 2008

I’m at Top Pot on 5th Avenue in Seattle. Carson and I had breakfast with Steve and Annabelle and they dropped me off here. We’re in town for Stephen and Breanne’s wedding.

I worked on Thursday and then picked Carson up and we drove to the airport. Cass picked me up when we got in. When we got to her house, I expected her sister Jess to be home with Sylvie watching TV. But when we got there, candles were lit. It was quiet and odd. When we walked into the kitchen, Nina, Cora, and Claire stood there. I was so surprised, I shouted, You motherfuckers! and we all laughed until someone said, Shh! Sylvie’s asleep.

We listened to music around the fire. I felt calm with them. We talked about marriage, relationships, etc. It was a great evening. Claire left at 11. The others stayed until 1. Cassie and I turned it at 3.

When Cassie had picked me up, she was listening to a mix I made for her before we moved to LA. There was a beautiful song on it that I couldn’t get over. I asked her, Who is this?

She said, I don’t know but you put it on this mix for me.

I said, I did? When we got home, we looked it up. It’s a song called Today by Prosser. I’d forgotten about it. I love the lines, Saw you again and you’re not what you seem. Wish that you’d stop haunting my dreams. How fitting to rediscover this song right before Stephen’s wedding.

Yesterday, Cassie and I took Sylvie to school. I got to meet her teacher and see her coat hook and meet the little boy that Sylvie and several other girls have a crush on. We drove to Cugini Café on Ballard Ave and sat in weak sunlight and then she drove me to John and Kim’s and came in. Mom, Dad, and my nephews LJ and Noah were there. I hung with them until the rest of the troops arrived for lunch. Elizabeth drove Carson and me to Steve and Annabelle’s in the afternoon.

Love, Meghan

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

I’m at the DMV. I want to be a woman of action. I’m sick of doubt and depression. My mind has been crazy. I am tired of feeling like I don’t know how to take care of myself. I’m sick. I was sick two months ago. My body is trying to tell me something. Do I listen?

I watched Magnolia yesterday. April Grace, an actor from it, came into the restaurant today for takeout. I walked up to her and told her I’d just watched the movie. She said she was flattered when I said how much I love that film and her role in it. She told me working on it was an awesome experience and she might cry just thinking about it. She said Tom Cruise was great to work with and during the parts when the camera was solely on her, Mr. Cruise would smoosh his face up against the camera so she could speak to him and not just the camera. Ms. Grace asked my name and said, Meghan, thank you. I will wish great things for you. Hopefully, you won’t be working here much longer.

Love, Meghan

Thursday, May 15, 2008

I’m on a break of a double shift. Jonah kindly let me go so I could chill before the dinner crowd crushes. I burned myself on a baking pan at work yesterday. It’s weird but I kind of like it; something to take care of and be conscious of.

I had a horrible dream last night that I was going to die the next day (I guess that would make it today). I told people (in the dream) but no one cared or believed me. I had a terminal illness and doctors were going to euthanize me because the disease was hopelessly taking over me.

I’ll have to write about the Seattle trip later. I feel a heavy weight of sadness and confusion about my life.

While I was up north, I heard that Emma is six months pregnant. It made me sad for a few reasons. I don’t know why I feel forsaken by her. We don’t need to be as close as we were a long time ago but it would be cool if we could still talk or write from time to time.

I feel lost. I want to audition. I’m out of touch with priority.

I feel close to Carson. I need him to step up and be proactive about his life and in our life together. I don’t want us to flounder through life.

I woke up and cried this morning. I feel scooped out. I don’t know what to do.

I thought Fiona and I would put up our scene last night but other scenes took up the allotted time. I was bummed. I get a charge from being up in front of the class and I could have used one last night. Carson came to watch me in our scene but no dice.

I like Fiona. I walked to her work in Santa Monica yesterday. We got coffee and drove to her place in Los Feliz to rehearse before class.

I talked to Neal after his scene last night. Marcus told Neal he needed a good inner object for lesbianism in his scene from Chasing Amy. I told him he should use promiscuity since he has a problem with sexually liberated women. I said, Or you could use something that would bother you or be a major impediment to you being with someone even if you cared about or loved them. I don’t know what that would be for you. He thanked me for the input.

I need to chase these blues away. I’ve got them bad.

Love, M

Life intermission: I’m worried because I’m getting older. Not in time or years but older in the yuck sense. The worry is part of the yuck. I worry I’m getting more careful – with my words, what I say, what I write. I’m starting to understand how fragile we adults are. I’m getting safer. Oh no.

Sunday, May 18, 2008

I’m at Stir Crazy in Melrose. I rehearsed with Fiona earlier and then watched scenes from Marcus’s advanced class. One from After Hours was great. Both actors committed and it was hilarious. I ducked out early to come here.

Car and I worked on Friday and went to Renee’s Courtyard for drinks. We talked about what Car needs to do to get a production job. We made a list. I asked him a hundred questions and asked him to be as specific as possible when answering them.

I told Car about a scene I watched at the studio from Diner with two actors Kim and Nate. Nate was very serious in the scene and obviously using something close to him as an inner object and substitution. Marcus critiqued them and then turned to us and said, When you do this [mimed opening his chest with his hands], you have no idea how entirely people will respond.

Marcus said that when we are vulnerable and put our hearts out there, people love it. He told us a story about a woman he heard speak once. Her son was autistic and one afternoon, he was standing by their screen door and neighborhood kids were outside making fun of her son. She didn’t know what to do. Should she go out and yell at them in hopes of protecting him? Or should she let her son deal with it, as this would happen many more times throughout his life? As she’s telling this story, there’s not a dry eye in the house and she said, I see that a lot of you are crying right now but you’re not crying for my pain. You’re crying for your own pain.

I see acting and performance and most of the arts as that: Displaying the range of emotions and ideas and experiences for other people to recognize them in their own lives and selves. I told Car that it gets tricky, though, because sometimes someone will pour their heart out or be vulnerable and it makes you feel yucky, like, Whoa, dude. Put that away. You’re a mess. So why are there other times when other people do it and it’s compelling or moving? What’s the difference between an expression that moves you and one that grosses you out? What’s the difference between someone who inspires beauty and one who inspires yuckiness? I don’t know the answer.

Carson and I talked about Jeff and Terrence and what they’re doing industry-wise.

Elizabeth and I talked on Friday. I told her I feel bad about Emma and not knowing her anymore and how that plays into my life down here versus everyone’s life up there. Elizabeth said, No one is judging you. You don’t know how people see you or how they feel about what you’re doing with your life.

She’s right. She said something about how Emma probably likes her life but may have moments where she wonders what it would be like if she’d done something differently. This plays into another idea I have about acting: Maybe we’re all living lives we like but we wonder what another life could be like.

I wonder if Carson and I should have a kid and buy a house. But then I have this notion that Emma or Stephanie or my Mom or my sister will see me in a film someday and they will be moved by my performance and identify with my character and it will help them understand why I’m not on a more conventional path. You can’t judge or doubt yourself or anyone else. We don’t know what everyone else thinks about or goes through.

I’ve been down lately but I feel inspired for the moment at this coffee shop in ninety-five-degree heat, listening to a mix I made for Cassidy and Nina. It’s the first mix I’ve made since I moved here and there are songs from last fall and winter and ones I’ve been obsessed with from the last month or two.

After Renee’s on Friday, Carson and I went to Bottle & Farm for dinner. We had mussels, pasta, and beer. We met Molly and Jonah there for brunch yesterday. It’s been hot as hell. I worked last night and chilled with Molly and Kristin after.

I sing a song I made up in Spanish every time I lose my keys: ¿Donde estan mis llaves? I repeat that several times in a dramatic, operatic way until I find my keys. I sang it for Molly and Kristin and they loved it.

I feel close to those gals. We talked for hours last night about what we’re doing with our lives. Molly said she’s noticed a theme with actors she knows down here, at least me, Autumn, and a few others. She observes that we each get weirded out after visiting home and seeing friends and family and returning to LA. Like we doubt ourselves and wonder what we’re doing when everyone back home seems to have clearly defined lives.

On Friday, Elizabeth asked if I ever think about going to see someone (read: a therapist). Thanks but no thanks. She said, It’s amazing how much they could help you uncover and sort out.

It doesn’t offend me because I know she’s gone to see people before.

I told Molly how uncomfortable I feel, physically. She said, You always tell me you need to exercise. I wonder why you say that because you look great. But now I realize you need to work out to keep your head on straight.

Despite my depression and occasional bitterness, I’m grateful for the people I know here. I’m grateful for music and heat.

I begin an eleven-day work stint on Tuesday. I’ll go to yoga classes in the mornings. After this upcoming spell, I’m not taking on any extra shifts. I want to go camping and swimming with Carson. I need nature.

I need to audition. I need to exercise and find practical application for what I’m learning in class.

The burn on my arm looks like a gnarly gash.

I got sick last Sunday. It’s weird that I was in Seattle a week ago. Things feel packed. What happens in a week’s time feels like longer than that. So this cold. My chest is full of crud and I am smoking through it. This addiction is a sickness and a disease.

I borrowed The Beauty Myth by Naomi Wolf from Elizabeth. Some of it is knocking my socks off. I’ve never had an eating disorder but I realize that smoking is an ailment of similar physical mutilation. It hurts me and limits me and kills my voice. I hesitate to write about this because of the parenthetical implication that I must change what I recognize to be wrong and bad in my life and myself. But shame and guilt are not good motivators for me when it comes to change.

While we sat at the bar last night, Kristin, Molly, and I talked to Dante while he tended bar. We asked him if he ever felt trapped. He said no because trapped implies doing something you don’t want to do, like becoming a worker for your dad’s company or doing something you don’t want to do for your life’s work. Then he said, Do I ever feel doubtful and misguided? Sure.

That put something in perspective for me. I’m not trapped. I’m just misguided. I work too much. I don’t prioritize what matters most to me. Molly said I don’t take enough time for myself. Maybe she’s right.

Love, Meghan

Monday, May 20, 2008

My arms feel like jelly. I just finished an advanced vinyasa class. I like the teacher. I sweated more than I have sweat in a long time. Ninety minutes of stretching, sweating, and breathing. I’m happy that I am following through on two things I’ve meant to do: a yoga class and membership to Actors Access so I can submit myself for auditions. I submitted for twenty roles. I’m on a mission to go on at least three auditions before we go to Seattle in July.

Carson and I went to The Apple Pan last night. We had burgers, fries, and Coca-Cola. It was nice and old-school in there. After, we went to the theatre to see a Norwegian movie, Reprise. We loved it. The actors were great and it inspired us. I related to the main character, Phillip. It was well written and beautifully shot. It was a serious subject matter written with enough humor to not totally wipe you out.

I was restless as usual when we got home. We walked to JP’s for a drink and talked about the movie. Car said he doesn’t want to work for a production company. He said, Am I just supposed to write and send my scripts to people?

I said, Yes.

He said, That just seems so scary.

I said, Yes. You gotta do it anyway. I don’t know what it’s going to take for you to roll up your sleeves and get to work.

I told Carson I don’t think he’s given himself permission to go balls out. He needs to set aside time to write. His day job is fine but he can’t let it be a distraction. I asked him what will keep him from checking email, downloading music, chatting on blogs, etc. when he puts time aside to write. He said, I don’t know.

I said, Figure it out.

Carson’s eyes were blue and beautiful and clear last night. He’s not as angry as he used to be when we talked about what he needs and wants to do. I