three and half years

I rather be writing something else right now. Believe me. I rather be writing a script, a rant about something completely vain and irrelevant, pondering about the quirky things that sometimes fill my life. Hell, I seriously rather be writing fanfiction. I also wish I didn't have a cold that came completely unexpected.

This space has been an outlet for me whenever I'm overwhelmed by things I find hard to cope with sometimes. And tonight is one of those nights.

Some of you, my friends and acquaintances that have been in contact with me in the past few months, know that I'm going through a situation I do not wish anyone to face.

I've been living in this country for over three and a half years, a journey that began by being accepted into AFI Conservatory and the chance of turning my life around. During these years, not only have I found amazing friendships and experiences, but I've also managed to find the road to find myself.

In these past months, I've realized how different I am from the person that came to Los Angeles in 2009. I don't mean to sound conceited, although lets face it, I'm writing a blog about me, what's more self absorbed than that? but the truth is that I love the person I've become.

I wasn't so much in love with myself back then... and I think that part of the reason why I wasn't the person I wanted to be before I moved resided on the fact that I was living in a place I did not belong. And I've known this most of my life.

You've read my other rants, I never settled. Not letting myself get attached to people, places or things that would tie me to a situation I knew I would have to walk away soon enough. Shall I refer you to my "couch diatribe"? Maybe you should browse my other writings.

While I lived in Venezuela, I always felt out of place, regardless of the familiar things I like because I grew up there. I know I love many things about the country; the traditions, my friends & family that still live there. I love the food, I'm fond of the simpleness of how people relate to each other and the landscapes that served as my backyard. I love everyone's resilience and I'm convinced that's one of the few things that could identify me as a Venezuelan.

On the other hand, I outgrew that environment a long time ago. And that environment didn't follow suit. Regardless of how much I tried back then, and how much others have tried to shift my country's reality, the fact is that nothing has changed and in fact things are exponentially worse than when I left.

So right now, as I sit on my bed surrounded by boxes, I'm writing to try to unwind.

I'm on a countdown that's running out fast to try to find a solution to stay in this country. I've been on this countdown since day one. I've looked down roads and opened doors looking for opportunities that sadly in my field require of more time to materialize. I could go on for hours about the unfairness of this situation; of how I'm so willing and determined to make my life in this country and how the perspective of leaving seems like the worst option. I've cried and stressed out and struggled in the past year far beyond the limits I was even aware I could bear.

On the one hand, looking for the silver lining of it all, I'm amazed at how much I can hold on, and how much I can withstand for the sake of what I'm sure its my calling and what I should be pursuing; on the other hand, the sacrifice has put such a strain on my family and even my own body that right now feels like I'm running on empty and making me feel guilty for a variety of reasons that ironically only become worse if I were to leave.

I want to make sure that, as you read this, you don't get the idea that I'm giving up. Because I'm not. I will fight until the very last day I'm able to find a way to continue in my path, even when it feels that I'm not as battling as fierce as you've seen me fight before. My desire is that I can find a job that can keep me here, to continue living around the people that have proven to be true friends, my greatest work partners and creative collaborators, the people that have made my life rich and that are the family I've chosen.

Right now, thanks to the amazing and welcoming nature of two of those angels in my life, I'm disbanding the place I've lived at for the past year and change. For the sake of giving me that extra time to continue my battle, I'm moving into their living room, and bracing myself for what I know will be days or months of serious struggle. Half my things will be in boxes, half others held by friends. Nothing sold, nothing thrown away in haste. Because no one wants to tell me and no one believes that I'm leaving. I myself don't even believe that I am. Call it "spidey sense", call it denial. I'm not ready to give up. I'm not ready to let go of the belief that the Universe is saving something for me.

Today, as I packed away the cute little green ramekins I usually bake little deserts in, I found myself repeating in my head that the next time I peel the bubble wrap from them will be to put them in cupboards in my new house, here in Los Angeles. I could even see the decor of this place, and in that deranged moment of this packing frenzy, I didn't know if to berate myself for being naive or feel okay because something deep in me is telling me that I'll be alright.

I went through the myriad of things that I've kept from film shoots, jobs, trips, relationships and friendships, heartbreak and ecstatic happiness; trinkets, notes, pictures - promises, hugs, kisses and even hurtful moments that I cherish because I've never lived with this intensity before. And as I put them in boxes and got rid of things that I really wouldn't need here or anywhere else, I kept asking myself, what am I packing for? Because it doesn't feel like any of these things would fit on any kind of life back in the country that saw me come into this world.

So is this a sign, or is this denial? Is this my body & mind's way to protect me to push me to keep going and deal with whatever outcome, later, when I can't avoid it anymore? Going back to Venezuela feels like such a set back that, past the date of my "proposed" return, I can't visualize myself in that reality.

I've grown enough that I even got a couch. That has to count for something, right? Even when right now that couch will be moved to someone's living room for the time being.

My wish is that soon I can continue finding magic in my life, because I miss it. I want to be able to go through the day without fear of losing what I have and not be able to reach what I deserve, and have mental space to go back to the dozen of projects I've been forced to put in standby, including my life.

I'd like to not to be so caught up into all of this that I've stalled continue to become the person I love. I know I'm a work in progress, and even with the things I don't like so much about myself, I guess I've found the wisdom to cherish that I'm different, that there's value to myself and that I believe its the most important thing I've realized about this process. It is also the most frustrating thing when it comes to try to sort through the unfairness of why it's become so hard for me to find a way to stay.

My wish is to continue to be in the city that, for once, feels like home and happiness. The one place that didn't make me yearn for another reality, because most of what I want, need and deserve is here... and the rest can either be found, flied in or a phone call away.

I'm not asking for material concepts but the wealth of feeling that you're where you're supposed to be. That feeling doesn't translate in words, and its hard to explain, and is not about being spoiled and refusing to face reality, its that THIS is my place to stay. My wish is to remain in the place that feels ironically exciting and safe, even when it comes to just about going for a walk at 4am; where I don't feel like outside my door something is waiting to harm me, where I can see a future and not a holding pattern. I wish for this situation to resolve, so I don't feel crippled anymore and can actually go back to be the person that bloomed and thrived on possibilities, and then made those come to life.

I know that many of you may be saying that I should give mental space to the "What if...?" The rational side of me agrees with you, the rest of me doesn't, because in the process of becoming who I am, I've lost the ability to reinvent what I don't want. It may be seen as a downside, or being closed minded, but in reality is my awareness to weed out the things that I know won't come with costly consequences that I no longer have the ability to sort through.

I'm putting my faith out there that my instincts won't fail me. In the end, there will always be another line to learn from this book.