Longing for winter

Hagelslag, guardian angels, and SSRI's.

Me, in London this morning.

I’m writing to you from the middle seat on an 11-hour flight back to Los Angeles after over a month away from Hollywood. I’m sitting next to a woman who feels comfortable bringing 6 (six) Tupperware containers full of different foods, one including some very seasoned chicken. She got up right before take off to change into her “trousers” which were just leopard pajama pants. After eating her 6 Tupperware’s full of dinner, she started taking selfies only to realize there was some pesto (lovely) in her teeth, so naturally she fished out a floss pick. Just wanted to let you know that people are still behaving this way and think that it’s acceptable. She is most likely pushing 60. I hope she pops a quick Valium and knocks out for the rest of the flight so I can write about her without her seeing.

I don’t eat plane food because I don’t have a death wish and don't want to risk it, (if you’re new here, hi! I wrote about my anxiety here) (I know a few people that have gotten food poisoning even from the vegetarian dishes!) so I brought an e5 Bakehouse roll, peanut m&ms, and British protein bars (last resort if I feel faint or feel like I’ll keel over and die if I don’t eat).

British protein.

I’m an anxious flyer, especially knowing there’s always a chance of the plane crashing. On my flight from Nantucket to Boston, there was turbulence which can be common flying over from the Islands, but it makes me think there’s only mere minutes until we crash head-on into the Atlantic. With each bounce onto the imaginary solid clouds, I felt an electric shock go through both my hands, flicking on my sweat glands and making them clammy in an instant. I grabbed Carter’s hand in front of me as we went over another, bigger bump. I felt someone inside my chest jumping rope, probably double dutch. I clenched my entire lower body, crossing my legs, bracing for potential impact. I closed my eyes and pretended I was a person who never got anxious. I remembered I was sitting in a window seat as I lifted the shade and looked out at the big green below. I thought about crashing and wondered if it would be worse to look out the window and thought probably. I put down the shade and let Billie sing me to sleep.

I’m dying to be back in Hollywood, and am longing for winter.

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Last we spoke I was still in New York and Biden was still pushing for his second term. Since then brat summer seems to be ending despite Kamala’s marketing efforts.

While I was in London I looked at rare Margiela books for £900 and ate Twiglets (a crisp that’s high in iron) at the French House pub in Soho (one of my favorite nights of the trip). In Britain iced coffee means a double shot of espresso with three ice cubes in it, and in Amsterdam an almond milk latte tastes like marzipan (just awful).

The highlight of my trip to Amsterdam (besides the wonderful stay at Carmen) was Hagelslag (meaning hail), part of traditional Dutch breakfast. However, for me, it was a time machine. I remember when I was a child my father used to read to me and my brother every night before bed. We had a book called A Child’s Garden of Verses (published in 19th century!!!) which includes a poem called Fairy Bread by Robert Louis Stevenson. It reads as follows:

Come up here, O dusty feet!

Here is fairy bread to eat.

Here in my retiring room,

Children, you may dine

On the golden smell of broom

And the shade of pine;

And when you have eaten well,

Fairy stories hear and tell.

Biting into the baguette smeared with salted butter and chocolate sprinkles, I was instantly transported to my kitchen in Baltimore. I remembered exactly how it felt being 8 years old in my childhood home in Baltimore. I just ordered De Ruijter on Amazon and look forward to healing my inner child through this perfect treat.

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After eating bread and cheese all month, I’m looking forward to California produce. A lot of people I talked to in New York said that the food in LA is better than NY, which I was shocked to hear. I assumed most people prefer the restaurant scene in New York, considering there’s so many and always something new. But maybe people are turning to like the simpler things in life, like leeks.

Since being gone I have been asked to work 7 times which I’m taking as a sign to not leave LA for the rest of the year. More than okay with me though I do owe New York City one more trip before end of year (I try to go once a quarter, especially during Christmastime). I’m grateful to have the privilege to travel, though I don’t know if I long for it as much as others. 

A lot of people travel for a living. I've learned that’s not something I need to survive and be happy, but also I believe my anxiety contributes a lot to my desire to visit places I’m not familiar with. When I feel out of control in my body, I start to panic. Hence why I’m sober. If I don’t get enough rest, it would be in your best interest to stay away from me. Some people can function without sleep, but my health is of extremely high importance to me. I like to be presentable, mentally. I sleep for at least 8 hours a night. I take no less than 3 baths a week with magnesium flakes. I eat breakfast every morning. I don’t have more than 2 coffees a day. I see an acupuncturist weekly. I take Chinese herbs. I cook at home. If necessary, I occasionally take a 45-minute nap. I have an Ativan prescription in case of emergency. I step quite carefully, and I’m proud to say so because I haven’t always. Sometimes I think I hold myself back; I avoid straying from my routine out of fear of losing control, or worse, myself. Some people might say I’m high maintenance, and I don’t give a shit.

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I often think about going off the SSRIs that I’ve been prescribed since I was 12. I’ve been on Prozac, Luvox (basically generic Prozac), and now Lexapro. I wonder how I’d be or if I’d change. I’ve never experienced sex without a medication that dampens my desire. I’d like to not be on them while I’m pregnant, though they are saying that’s okay to do now. But whenever I think about this, I remember how debilitating my anxiety was before I started taking the pills. Sometimes I still feel that feeling in my chest (maybe you know the one) that I used to feel constantly and wonder if I stopped taking the pills if that feeling would be with me forever, and if it would, I don’t know how I’d function. 

By the way— I had 2 panic attacks in London. I don’t need to share here why because that’s for when I start a paywall. But these panic attacks reminded me of another panic attack I had in London the time I studied at RADA for a summer in 2017. I started to get anxious at an urgent care after seeing a woman walk in with a bag of her vomit. I was only there to get a script for an antibiotic (yeast infection). Upon seeing her, I stopped speaking to the check-in clerk and ran down the hall out of the building and down the street at full speed into an empty church where I sat with my head between my legs in one of the pews. I don’t go to church (despite my parents wishes), but this was a desperate situation. While I wept (it was the kind where you can’t see even when you wipe your eyes because the tears just won't stop) a man sauntered up the aisle carrying a large melon and genuflected next to me, putting a hand on my knee. He didn’t say much, just that I’d be okay while handing me a napkin. The only other person in the church besides me and this gentleman was my mother, sitting a few pews ahead of me to the left. She doesn’t remember seeing anyone there and said the church was completely empty when she walked in after me and claims that man was my guardian angel. I actually sort of believe it.

If you want to hear more about my trip let me know, but I’m not a travel blogger. Plus, I don’t want to be like everyone else and tell you exactly where to go because not all of you are exactly like me.

Anyways, here’s a photo of me shortly with jet lag.