Saturday, May 12, 2018

Dear Daniel Craig

Dear Daniel,

Good morning. Today promises to be a brilliant day. A great night’s sleep. Meds taken. The sun is shining. Music is rocking. And today I come to you happier than I’ve been in awhile.

I’m working on the Guardian Episode 4 and I’m thinking of working on a novel. There’s something very cathartic about working on a book. Something soothing and healing that you don’t necessarily get when you’re working on a screenplay.

It’s funny. As irritable as I’ve been over the last few days I have felt myself getting better. Although I’m sure those living with me might disagree. I guess the best way to say it is that I don’t feel unstable and fried and depressed.

I know I felt lost and alone and like I could trust and reach out to no one when maybe that wasn’t necessarily the case. Isolation and loneliness are nasty, tricky little monsters that my disease likes to unleash on my brain when I’m at my most vulnerable.

People ask what my most cherished dream might be. Truthfully it changes. But my most cherished wish is to meet Daniel Craig.

When I’m feeling blue or like I can’t handle the world on the world’s terms I pull down Cowboys and Aliens or Skyfall and pop it in and do a little daydreaming and set to writing with him in mind as the lead. Or rather the physical incarnation of him that I can project some dysfunctional version of that I can lead to some sort of redemption by the last page of the story that I can pen “the end” on.

Truthfully it is difficult to clear the mind and rest when everything is noise, noise, noise. Sometimes I just want to sleep and forget that the world has other plans for you and your sanity.

I have been listening to music. Now I have to turn it off. It’s too much for my jangled nerves. I figure once I eat and have my tea I’ll sleep for another hour or so.

Sometimes I dream of the day I meet Daniel. And I fear he might ruin it. How can he possibly live up to the dream and the fantasy I have in my head of the advocate and the sweet man I hope that he is?

You’re  an incredibly private man. And even though I know sharing my life and journey of healing and pain in such a way that it invites some sharp tooth critics to take aim at my very soft heart and criticize me I don’t know if I could take my hero’s “rejection” of the advocacy platform that I have been using to reach out to the world at large when I feel so isolated and alone from this world.

I don’t know if my family understands how important it is from me to talk to another human being. That physical human contact and comforts and love is crucial to my healing and continued recovery.

I certainly don’t expect Daniel to fill this void. As we don’t know one another. And truth be told he has no clue I exist. Or what this blog is about. He is a universe away and the reality is we most likely will never meet. And  that’s okay. This blog is about me reaching out to the world and the world reaching back and somehow we figure out how to make it through a day living with severe mental illness without giving into it’s awful tendrils of darkness. And allowing our collective lights to shine through.


Amy McCorkle

Wednesday, May 9, 2018

Dear Daniel Craig

Dear Daniel,

I came. I saw. I conquered.

ICFF was a success! Major interest in Letters to Daniel. An explosive response to The Guardian! Usually I’m lucky if I make 5 or 6 connections that seem to have any real chance of panning out. I came away from ICFF with 14 solid connections and have already heard back from five with varying degrees of potential.

To say I am glad to be home, relaxing, enjoying lunch with Missy and hanging out with my cousin Rebekah tonight as she works on a novel and I wrap up my to-do  list for the day I have to say recovery is always nice to embrace after a tense and anxious yet glorious week of hard work in the name of making Letters to Daniel and quite possibly making The Guardian a reality  is nice.

Being on my feet, shaking hands, screwing up the courage to talk to the big time speakers and try to get mine and Missy’s work into their hands. Connecting with people who have more money than me who can facilitate our mental health advocacy stories and vision for ending stigma and fostering understanding and healing.

It’s been an awesome time to be sure but now I am ready for some serious rest. People are telling me how impressed they are with how organized I am compared to others. I have to admit I’ve had some wonderful mentors. Ray and Kristina and Del and Theresa. And so many others.
It’s funny that they would call me organized. It is now the following morning. I was dragging yesterday. I am not so sure I am not dragging now lol.

Amazing things are happening to me and Missy and I really can’t believe. But sometimes you really just have to step out on faith and just let go of your preconceived notion of what the the Universe has in store for you.

I have been pushing Letters to Daniel since 2013 in some fashion. Whether it be the blog, the book or the documentary or the script. And at ICFF this it was no different.

But this year our episodic project The Guardian seemed to just rocket into the mainstream consciousness where everyone wanted to see it.

That’s where it seemed the money was going. I wanted to make a project so that’s where our preparation was going to have to go.

Not that it was a bad thing. The Guardian has quickly become a bad thing. Writing as the show runner for a series that seemed to have a direction, interest from the mainstream and a television executive and a producer(s) maybe God and the Universe was trying to tell me and Missy something.

Cindy Bond talked of I Can Only Imagine being a mustard seed seven or eight years ago. Perhaps Letters to Daniel will be mine and Missy’s. And Letters to Daniel will be an Oscar night triumph where we prove the naysayers wrong. And The Guardian will be the major step we take to get there.

ICFF was a triumphant week where 14 solid leads have already transformed into two producer follow-ups this week where I will be talking to one producer over the next two weeks and another today.

I am blessed. I am lucky. I have worked hard. May everyone else be so gifted by the Universe.


Amy McCorkle

Saturday, April 28, 2018

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!!!


Amy McCorkle

Thursday, April 26, 2018

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

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.


Amy McCorkle