Taking My Own Assvice

I am very good at assvice, not so good at following it. Sooo, I must now swallow my pride and do what Catherine is doing. She is attempting to fake it until she makes it. And she's right...

I know because I told her to do the same exact thing last summer, and she thought I meant to fake being happy until she had a live baby. I clarified later, and told her that I think "making it" means being able to walk down the street without running screaming into traffic.

Hard thing to do, but I must hitch up my bits and do it nonetheless or Christmas will not happen. Plus, there are more good things in the pipe, like DH bringing home another bonus cheque tonight. We will then pay off yet another credit card! Yayyy! Now, I can rack it up at the fertility clinic in January...hehe.

And I can't worry about my so-called friends reaction, right? Because who cares...must bluster through. Feh...she was a bitch anyway. Okay, not really...oh yeah, I wrote her as a "he" cause I hate writing "they", but I should've stuck closer to real life, so as not to confuse myself...

The second thing that was getting me down, BTW, goes back to a recent episode of Studio 60. One of the writers, and an actor on the show, is an acquaintance. (Our kids play together) He knows about my personal history because I invited him to a fundraiser for my support group --- his wife asked about the connection --- I disclosed, and they found out why I literally didn't smile from 2003 until a few months ago. Nothing like, "My babies died" to stop a conversation....
And guess who the latest character he plays is based on? Yep, it's me....right down to the traumatized expression he mimicked, and the description of helping a grieving person as a mitzvah. (I wrote this phrase in the invite to the fundraiser.) He gave me no warning, just a feeling of serious public humiliation at morning drop off at our school. I know future shows will be worse....I am really hoping his kid doesn't say anything stupid to my son....or I'll have to freak on him.

The character is supposed to be a grieving dad whose wife and 2 year old were killed in a car accident, and the producer and head writer need someone to fill in for the writers who quit. So they hire him to write the comedy show, even though he never laughs & never smiles. There's no evidence it's me really, nothing I can prove, just a very creepy familiarity every time I see the show. Like looking in a slightly warped mirror. I also feel a bit used for commercial purposes, like my grief has been hijacked by a TV show to sell airtime.

Can't think about it, instead I will fake joy until I make joy, right? Right?