The Show Must Go On – The Birth of an Adrenaline Junkie

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Loosen up; she says with a chuckle, you’re wrapped way too tight

With a grin, I know this but can’t stop

With extreme highs and lows I eat and sleep this

Loosen up, she says, and I hear her wisdom though she does not know

With regret and remorse my body won’t let me rest

 

Sisters laughing and pretending to be the fab four

A Hard Day’s Night left us screaming in the aisle

A hard day’s life when she suddenly died

Sisters at a cemetery, one of them reposed in the ground

A hard day’s night becomes a hard day’s life

 

Blonde on a kid’s show freezing in front of the camera

Sets that fall down and costumes that rip

Sets bright with large splashes of blinding light

Blonde kid so shy she hides in a dark world of her design

Sets up a place for an insidious void that convolutes

 

Universal horror monsters alive on TV late Saturday night

My first role, the fat witch on a flying machine

My attempts to memorize lines and moves

Universal applause and laughter when I fall off the stage

My parents smiling, happy, it’s all for my sis

 

Twirling a baton, I’m the youngest in the group

Talent and determination turns heads

Talent keeps everyone too busy to think

Twirling, is life’s temporary amnesia from blood and death

Talent, cursed or blessed, we still have Sundays at the cemetery

 

Learning to skate, meet Peggy Fleming, I’ve decided my path

Bruises, practice, auditions, rehearsals

Bruises, sprains, get up and do it again

Learning to tough it out, I’m the youngest in the show

Bruises, box dinners, homework and life in the car

 

Costume calls, pins and needles, hat is too big

Dress rehearsal is very boring

Dress is too tight, it’s the wrong size

Costume seamstress yells at me for getting taller

Dressed and made up by strangers

 

Homework on the run, another rehearsal, another dinner in a bag

Quick costume change, pushed out on stage

Quick roar of the crowd, flashes of light

Homework, remember how to stop skates from catching costume

Quick thinking prevents Ziegfeld Follies’ hat from toppling

 

Another day, another show, skate broke, costume ripped

Lead male skater is so dreamy

Lead female skater is such a bitch

Another dress rehearsal three hours too long, tempers flair

Lead me home, too achy and tired to think

 

End of the show, time to return back to the baton

Start at five and practice till school

Start homework on bus, practice till bed

End another day with drums pounding rhythms against my skull

Start tomorrow drum line pounding, choreography to learn

 

Stand before the directors, while they choose this outfit not that

Coaches for percussion, music and dance

Coaches for choreography, military baring and baton

Stand before the manager showing the upcoming schedule

Coaches not buses to carry all our crap

 

Run around and date actors, dancers, musicians and performers

Practice till my fingers blister and bleed

Practice till I can physically practice no more

Run around and find the most outrageous things to do to feel alive

Practice equals louder applause which equals perceived love

 

Awards come in a landslide of marble, gold and ribbons to many to count

Audiences bigger and applause profound, I want more

Audiences demanding greater feats, I’m willing to give

Awards for outstanding entertainer, how much higher can I go

Audiences are a fickle lover, self centered and giving

 

More, the press says, can we have your picture, please

Little one wants to grow up to be like me

Little one wants a hug; a group photo would be nice

More insanity, I love this but I need to find a release

Little pieces of me fly off into space, spirit catches giving me grace

 

Harder practices, demanding routines and radical ways to cope

Applause now an addiction, I can’t stop even if I wanted

Applause is drowning water, no longer quenching my thirst

Harder demands on my body, mind and soul, but I can give more

Applause has become the only way I feel alive and loved

 

Left, right, left, your positioning is not quite right, do it again

Redo the entire concepts of acceptance, love and peace

Redo the bandages on my bleeding blisters and take another pill

Left lying on the cold practice floor to fall asleep, nirvana

Redo the muscle rub while remembering the death that started it all

 

What do you mean you lost your step in stanza four

You call that making love to the audience

You call that a top notch performance

What’s wrong with you, we all have something at stake

You need some kind of help, something’s not right

 

Judges pass bribes, try to mess me up and get into my pants

Friends listen to my suicidal rants on the phone

Friends say I’m arrogant and need to pull in my ego

Judges demand more of me because I’ve been around

Friends back away, some say goodbye, they can’t relate

 

Dreams in dark music, applause, self hatred and death

Survival says be one with the stoned guy on the bus

Survival says join him and never look back

Dreams full of rage and remorse; I’m not good enough to last

Survival is swimming out to sea and never coming back

 

Ambulances are always ready at the end of my performances

Pain, strain and exhaustion, I collapse

Pain and hospitalizations, weekly events

Ambulance drivers joke, here she comes again, poor kid

Pain is having blown veins from too many IV pushes

 

Cemetery where my sister rests is inviting, I love to sleep there

Terror fills my soul, soon the applause will end

Terror is a free fall with no one there with a net

Cemeteries are great places to recover when in withdrawal

Terror is raging out of control and no one knows why

 

Rage is what I felt destroying my bedroom, leaving trophies in the wall

Traveling to Africa gave me new purpose in life

Traveling taught my internal camera how to see

Rage is what I felt about human suffering in the world

Traveling made empty audiences transform into humans in need

 

Begin college studying radio, television and film production

Fall into the world of anthropology and social work

Fall into finding paranormal ways to get my rush

Begin filming documentaries and stills for museums

Fall in love and make passion the new addiction

 

Digging in the dirt as an archaeologist assistant and living in a tent

Filming documentaries and stills is not enough

Filming and showing bizarre personal creations stirs my soul

Digging round for any evidence of my sister, the paranormal

Filming detaches me from my pain and shows others its gore

 

Deadlines for films, photo shows, exhibits and pass the popcorn

Give us just one more set by tomorrow

Give us a rough draft, get it right

Deadlines take the place of coaches and managers

Give me an audience to entertain, some caffeine, a pill

 

Drunk driver eviscerates my life, decapitates my friend

Medical torture, no time for anesthesia, you’re going to die

Medical surgery not going well, I see the monitor flat line

Drunk driver gives me a Near Death Experience and new birthday

Medical trauma fuels my rage and an addiction nothing will quench

 

My experience teaches me much including the delicate nature of time

Flashes of performing memories past embrace me

Flashes of my past performing show me a universal stage

My uptight nature gets in the way of spiritual awakening and growth

Flashes of my mangled body assault me and I rage again

 

Now I embrace, explore my surreal reality and help others find theirs

Education, degrees and life aid my helping those in emotional pain

Education, writing, photography and outreach in constant production

Now If I can only loosen up and not be so wrapped tight

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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About Debbie Hill, deborahhillcounselor.com

Wellness Counselor, Author, Photographer, Interested in living a balanced, compassion centered life, travel, spiritual/supernatural issues, history, all things Disney. If that's not eclectic, I don't know what is.

Posted on February 22, 2013, in Insights, the Greatest Gifts, Living with PTSD and Chronic Fatigue, Misc., The Therapist is in and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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