A Breakthrough and a Breakdown

I experienced both in the last 36 hours or so...a lot sooner than I had expected either of them to happen.

As far as a breakthrough, I had an incredible experience in Movement class yesterday, which surprised me. I thought I was going to have a harder time surrendering to that experience. Not that I was skeptical about the validity or purpose of movement training as an actor...I just knew that was the one area where I was going to feel the most tied up, afraid to be free and open. Without going into too much detail (because it would take forever), we basically did a simple exercise in groups of two that dealt with making simple physical contact with another person. Not complicated. No dialogue. No expectations or objectives. No characters, relationships or imaginary circumstances to create. Just basic human contact in a few moments of silence. After the exercise was over, we were supposed to talk to our class partner about what we experienced. As my partner and I chatted, we were blown away about how much we were able to tune in during that exercise and each get from the other person, without even saying a word! It was rather profound.

Now for the breakdown. It was bound to happen at one point. I knew I would come up against a moment when I felt like the city was trying to break me. I'm an emotional girl, and New York can be tough...so I was fully expecting to experience a bit of a meltdown at some point during my six weeks here. I just didn't think it would happen so soon.

I was in the laundromat next door to the apartment this morning, and I was attempting to get my clothes out of the dryer. The dryer door kept shutting against my head, so I finally pushed it open a little wider than I had been. The door sort of overlapped a dryer next to me, and I didn't see the man trying to use that particular dryer. He went off on me! I could barely even apologize and say I didn't see him there, before he was screaming at me that there were other people in the laundromat besides me. At that point, I wanted to simply ignore him, get my clothes and get out of there. He kept ranting at me. He began to talk about my people owing his people reparations, and that one day they would conquer us all. We'd all be slaughtered and our dead bodies would pile up in the streets until the smell was so bad...I'm not making this up. This man was very angry, and somehow my dryer door overlapping in front of his dryer door made me the symbol of oppression in his eyes. He wanted me to know that me and my kind were going to get our comeuppance someday.

I don't remember too much of what he said after that. I was shaken, embarrassed; other people in the laundromat were staring. I shoved my clothes into the laundry bag as fast as I could. I didn't even care that some of them were still wet. I ran out the door, into my cousin's apartment building and up the stairs to the 4th floor. As soon as I got in the apartment, the tears came. I dropped my laundry bag in a chair and collapsed on the floor. I laid flat on the hardwood floor, not softly crying a tear or two, but sobbing uncontrollably. My cousin was at a pilates class, so she didn't witness this...which is a good thing. I didn't really want anyone to see me that way. In that moment, I felt so defeated. I felt like such a stupid girl from the Midwest, thinking I could survive in New York City. I missed Jeremy. I missed Harley and Cosmo. I wanted my own bed, Cleveland Indians games, my friends, my favorite wine bar back home. I felt totally alone.

I recovered. I'm not ready to give up and come home early. On the contrary. I'm a little more determined. Tomorrow is a brand new day, and again, I kind of expected to experience a moment or two like this. I guess I just didn't expect it to happen so soon and in quite the way that it did. I could use a few words of encouragement, and extra friendly face or two, a good night's sleep, a big slice of cheesecake...