#AStarForCarrie: Do You Believe in God?

I don’t, but it’s okay if you do. Everyone needs answers. Everyone needs someone to talk to when they feel alone. I never found that in any deity. I was baptized Roman Catholic when I was a baby, but I couldn’t go on pretending I believed by age 13. I was in my mid-20’s, after watching Julia Sweeney’s “Letting Go of God”- her one-woman show about exploring all aspects of theism before realizing she was an atheist- it dawned on me… I’m one of those.

“Dawned” isn’t the right word. It crashed down on me like a thunderstorm of bricks. I remember curling up on the kitchen floor, crying because my boyfriend wanted to watch a documentary about John Lennon, who was murdered six years before I was born. Watching something about a man whose music I loved so much was too much for me, it made me too sad because I knew I’d never meet him. He had given me so much Love, so much Hope, so much Inspiration and I could never return the favor. Imagine there’s no Heaven… It’s easy if you try, but it hurts like hell the first time. John could have been wrong, I could be wrong and maybe we will meet one day in the afterlife… But he’s a celebrity, why would he want to meet me?

Yesterday, after being on a waitlist for a month, I saw a psychiatrist at the LGBT center in Los Angeles. There are laminated signs at the check-in desk saying they care about pronouns. It felt like the one place I would be believed. The guy I saw had a tattoo of the Aries astrological symbol behind his ear. I have tattoos of Beatles quotes on my back, who am I to judge? It felt like this guy took one look at my birthdate and felt he had me figured out. He was so strident in adherence to the books that earned him his license that he shut down at the word “Adderall”. It almost seemed to change his mind when I told him I was stable enough on that medication to keep a day job for three years.

There are also signs about methamphetamine recovery everywhere around the LGBT center. I’ve never used meth, I was offered it once by a homeless dude, but I refused and took the $5 worth of schwag weed I asked for. I was told by a former meth addict that the difference between Adderall and meth is like the difference between Coca-cola and battery acid. The psychiatrist with the Aries tattoo did not believe I could have a dual diagnosis of bipolar disorder and ADHD, nor did he take the time to get to know me. I walked out after a few minutes. I still have antidepressants from a primary care doctor and you can buy legal cannabis everywhere around here, so that’s how I’ve been medicating my mental health. He also refused to refill my anxiety medicine (Klonopin) but I can replace that with a strong indica.

Not being believed is triggering for me, so I try not to judge people who believe in God or star signs. Being judged by them is a cyclical Mobius strip of anti-evolutionary hatred, so when I feel judged, I just turn the other cheek. Kevin Smith said I was doing the “Lord’s Work” when I pitched the #AStarForCarrie project on Smodcast. I don’t work for Jesus. I work for myself. I didn’t give away most of my money in the form of socks and vitamins to the homeless because I thought it would earn me a spot in heaven. They needed help, I had the help to give, and I gave everything I possibly could until I was left with nothing except my imagination. I started #OccupyFamilyGuy because I needed help and I felt my ideas could help Seth MacFarlane in return. I got arrested for that. It sucks when I tell people I come from a place of Love and all they hear is “I want to destroy you”. Thanks a lot, guy who shot John Lennon, whatever your name is…

I wrote the plot synopsis for #FortunateSon months ago because Sarah Silverman tweeted that she would be “good in a psychological thriller”. A story blossomed in my mind. What if Sarah could help all of these angry young white men on the verge of a shooting spree just by talking to one of them? I’m changing the end to one of redemption and forgiveness because I believe everyone deserves that. My writing has the power to change people for the better. We all have that power within us if we’re unafraid to express it and don’t let judgment get in the way. I believe in myself and I have to keep writing, keep working on getting people to believe in my ideas because I wasn’t born famous like Carrie Fisher. No one has handed me a script and said “I’ll pay you to make this better”.  I’ve been trudging down this weary road with the help of a few followers who believed in me. I can’t turn water into wine (I can brew kombucha though!) or multiply loaves and fish, but I can turn my thoughts into words and I believe that has infinite value. To put a number on it feels wrong, but I’m forced to live in our capitalist society, therefore I’m forced to sell my Art.

I saw a Mercedes parked on the street with a sign that said: “For Sale: $3,000”. What’s wrong with it? I thought. On the way back from picking up my anti-depressants, the sign was changed to $2,800. Nice try, Mercedes guy. It made me realize if I want to sell #FortunateSon and put the money back into #AStarForCarrie, I need to put a number on it that has sufficient value.

I’ve spent nearly every day since Memorial Day weekend working on #AStarForCarrie and if I were to put a number on the value of that work, by the end of the summer, I would owe myself $15,000. I set up the crowdfund for #FortunateSon with the goal of $5,000, but like that Mercedes, that number makes people wary. No one has donated to that crowdfund, but rather than decrease the price, I’m raising it to what it’s worth. $15,000. I believe the idea, the plot synopsis, and the treatment are worth that alone, but I’m going to write the script anyway, believing that it will help people believe in me.

What would I do with that kind of money? Hire more help so that I can help more. I want to hire people to help manage the non-profit, but I need sufficient funds to do that so I can focus on scriptwriting. We all find the succinct patterns of storytelling comforting, I see them as a conduit for influencing the collective consciousness of our culture. The best way I can stop mass shootings, help the homeless, protect the abused humans and animals of this harsh world, and shed light upon elements of hate holding our evolution back… is by writing movies/tv-shows about these issues. I believe I can accomplish these goals if I can get enough people to believe it’s possible to do so.

I had an idea to plan a Princess Leia flash mob in Hollywood Square on Labor Day to promote #AStarForCarrie. I started to doubt myself. What if no one shows up? What if I’m all alone out there again having spent two weeks promoting and trying like hell to fill the square with Princess Leias the one weekend everyone will be wearing white? What if it does work and I’m still depressed the next day?

“Do or do not. There is no try”


Stay tuned for the #AStarForCarrie Princess Leia flash mob details…

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