Dear Daniel Craig

Dear Daniel Craig,

There’s always a point when I have to take a step back reconsider all that I have going on. The goal had been to attend 2 festivals this month. Both had considerably amount of pros. Unfortunately it came down to that old buggabo money. And the fact I had none at the end of it all. I still had two major stops on my festival circuit to attend and if I squeezed in another one there was zero way I’d be able to attend them.

So I contacted Horror Hotel and asked if I could pick up mine and Missy’s awards at Indie Gathering. And the festival director generously said yes. Ray, Kristina, thank so, so much for understanding.

On to bigger news. Next Tuesday I get on a plane and fly to ICFF. To say I’m freaked out would be an understatement.

It’s been a struggle to stay stable, this winter and spring. Lots of changes to the routine and the unsettled weather has proven to be more challenging. As more recently the mood has gone from depression to despair.

Even in the face of the streaming distribution/revenue share deal we made for Letters to Daniel, to the partnering NAMI on making the film available to their network of consumers and them publicizing the film. To the faith based television executive reading the Guardian and loving it to the point that he placed it on his wish list to be made that he gave to the studio heads. Stress is still stress. As I have yet to secure funding for my passion project, Letters to Daniel and this weighs heavily on me and grows heavier still as I have put a lot of eggs in the ICFF basket where our career is concerned.

Between having a show in development in L.A. and pitching my passion project that seems just beyond my reach of getting it made well it’s beginning to wear on me. To many ups and downs. The choppier the waters the harder it is to remain stable.

I’m fighting with everyone, even, god bless her Missy. I have every reason to be happy. Festival nominations and wins. Steps towards the ultimate goal. Bipolar disorder is such a nasty, nasty trickster of a disease. It can make you happy one second then turn on a dime and make you it’s bitch the next.

Creeping despair and apathy where all of this is concerned. I just want to write. I just want to create. I just want the world to know I am here and that I speak up even when I feel bad. Today has been a beautiful day. I got to meet with a friend and hang out for three hours before heading home. The sky has been blue, the sun shining brightly. My mood should be vastly improved. Alas it is not  been to the degree or fast enough for my liking.

I try not to pressure myself like saying. I’ve gotten up two mornings in a row and have had a productive time of it. Small victories like having some coffee and relishing the Irish creamer in it.

Sitting down quietly and penning a letter making sure I’m telling the truth about my recovery. Truth is it feels like someone stole my mojo and is holding it hostage. An God damn it I want it back!

I haven’t produced as much as I want to recently and honestly I create because it brings me joy. Sometimes I wish Luke would curl up in my lap and just sleep there until I was happy, old and gray.

But the brutal truth is that I’m already coloring a considerable amount of gray and trying to be “professional” when I feel like is a little girl running headlong at her dreams daring anyone to tell me I can’t do it.

They say let the hurts go. It’s at times like these that they hurt the most. Because bipolar disorder is a nasty, trickster of a beast that brings back all the bad and the shame and regrets and lamentations that you thought you left behind.

When someone comes to you and says you hurt me because X and Y. Where is there to go but Z.

I don’t have much patience or people who say I don’t have enough time because I have the exact some 24 hours in a day that they do. Sacrifices have to be made.

I made a conscious decision in late 2010 that I wasn’t going to wait for my career to just happen anymore. I knew if anything good was going to come of it I would have to go to the mountain myself and make it happen.

I’ve been working hard my whole life. But the truth is this things are finally coming into focus on what I want to do. I want to create a mental health awareness/advocacy legacy. In every arena. I want to be a personal speaker who shares my story and has a reality tv mental health advocacy series. 

Deciding whether to do a web series on my own or recruit a full crew and shoot a pilot for it.

I’m at my strongest when I am doing advocacy work. I plan on creating a legacy of helping people. I need to sit down and map it all out. When I talk about advocacy and making it a reality I get excited. 

Because at heart I’m storyteller and there’s so much good I can do and it will help me get out of my own head and keep me in the present day and help me to enjoy the good I am doing now.

I’ve been meaning to organize this more so. I am looking into speaking to groups no matter  what their size. This prospect excites me and I’m hoping people when I sit down to write this out I’m going to be pitching film ideas at ICFF. But this advocacy work is something I’ve always been passionate about.

The question is can I move others to be as passionate about it as I am. I want to help people understand that life isn’t over when you’re diagnosed with bipolar disorder. But if you embrace the diagnosis and surrender to the process of recovery then chances are your life will get better.

Will it be smiles and happiness the whole way through. Life isn’t like that for anyone. Life is completely random and chaotic in reality. And for we bipolar bunches we need structure and routine.

I’m on a mission at ICFF. Letters to Daniel or bust!!!

Sincerely,

Amy McCorkle

Dear Daniel Craig

Dear Daniel Craig,

When I started this blog initially it was just supposed to be an open letter of gratitude to you. But about halfway through the letter I realized I was creating a platform of sorts for others like me. Those who had survived abuse and were making a life for themselves even though mental illness was a daily part of the routine.

Recently I’ve been slipping. Not with the medication. But moodwise. Everyone is happy to see the victories, especially me. Professionally I’ve been on something of a roll. Lots of victories there. But getting admittedly behind the scenes things have been much harder for me.

Maintaining a sense of balance and putting more good days together than  bad ones has seemed nearly  impossible. The weather and changing of the seasons has wreaked havoc on me. And as excited as I am for the upcoming film festival season financial stress, the anxiety of traveling alone, and the reality that I’ve invested a lot in my career is freaking me out.

The last three days have been especially bad. It’s been like being in a dark room with the door shut and locked. No light to see to guide me out.

I guess some would say, “think positive”, but for me it comes down to going back to the basics. Wake up at 8am, take my meds immediately. Eat a healthy breakfast. Keep caffeine to a minimum. Eat a healthy lunch. Write. Have a midday snack. Dinner. Write some more.

Yesterday was so bad I couldn’t write at all.

I missed an appointment with my therapist at the beginning of the month and the walk-in clinic complicated matters by first sending me home. Second having my therapist call in sick. The second one couldn’t be helped I’m sure. Then yesterday I got a lecture for missing the first appointment.

Things looked horrible, I was losing the excitement I had for ICFF which Missy and I have worked very hard for and the whole world was just closing in on me. I couldn’t breathe. I was suffocating. The thought of attending a festival we had worked so hard to set up for maximum impact on our projects seemed to be slipping away right along with my hard won sanity.

I had been isolating and not wanting to get out of the house. Not get out of bed. I slept all day. Took my meds eat and fall back asleep. Then lay awake half the night. Then repeating the cycle. I played fast and loose with the timing of my medication so that “I could write”.

I’m hoping I got of that train by taking a step back and in choosing my next project. By combining two passions of mine, long verrrry slow walking/running and mental health advocacy and continuing this blog as a part of my treatment plan. I will follow blog/book/documentary format with Letters to Daniel once again, with this installment being called Letters to Daniel: Recovery Is Not An Endpoint. With the blog continuing with it’s original title Letters to Daniel. To those who see this as a money grab. What you think doesn’t matter to me anymore. Yes I want to make money. But the truth is this, the people who need to see this will see this. And I need it emotionally and psychology for my own healing as the people who might be reading this might need it for theirs.

Lastly, I want to thank my caregiver, Missy Goodman for taking me to a place where I see the Universe in all its beauty and getting me outside of my own head. It can be a dark place with little to no light getting in. Yet she’s always there for me. So if you are in active recovery for bipolar disorder, anxiety, depression, PTSD or substance abuse drop me a line through the contact form here. Or hit me up at klynd75@gmail.com.

Missy is also my creative partner in crime of over 20 years. She is often tasked with the thankless role of Producer on our documentaries. Much love my friend. Much love.

Sincerely,

Amy McCorkle