Hi Stacey

Hi Stacey—

Writing to you in my phone this time. I’ve never done this before. It’s a little irritating. I’m a real “sit at a desk to write” person. But I have the urge to write and I’m on the balcony at 2:40 am. So phone it is.

I have the urge to write because I’ve been so sad this week. A lot of good things have also been happening, and that’s not to be overlooked. But the sadness has been prominent. I wish for it to go away. I’m working on it. But I have to get through some feelings I guess. The only way out is through, people always say. Dern often encourages me to just stop thinking about things and people that bother me. I see the merit of both perspectives.

The sadness is for four-ish reasons. Most important is a mysterious health issue for a loved one, Stacey. I hate the stress for them. I feel so tender for them. I feel so unstable and eager to overdo it. I have cried and fretted a lot, and we just wish for all this to wash away like a wave. Which may happen.

I’ve also been very sad about a friendship rift. I feel almost guilty for caring about both of these issues at the same time. But I think I worry more about both because of the other. I’m having confused feelings about friends lately (okay for years). Confusion about relationships is a huge theme of my life.

I’ve had some bad friends. But I’ve also have a lot of truly amazing friends. Sometimes I feel a way about a friend of mine and feel the opposite way later down the line. Humiliatingly, I’ve just started to wonder if I very commonly love people way more than they love me back… I often think I’ve made a best friend, but they think we’re casual pals…

Then again when I think of the friends who fall into this category of my past, I DO think we were very close. I’ve been considering texting the friend who hurt me so badly this week, “Did I make it all up?” That’s my question about so many of my relationships these days. Did I simply make everything up?

I’d thought she was my best friend here. But then I was equated to hundreds of others. Honestly dozens or even singles of others hurts. Maybe it’s unfair, but I’d hope my best friend thinks I’m unique, in some way. She shut that down so dispassionately, disrespectfully. I just felt stupid. And naive. It was so painful. I had to reevaluate everything. Maybe I needed to learn some lessons. Beth told me, “Every year I feel I’ve finally stopped being naive in Hollywood and every year I find something new to be naive about.”

So I get what Dern means when he says just forget about all of them, people who weren’t really my friends. He’s right.

But I also hope he’s wrong. I hope I DIDN’T make up my closeness with my friend. I hope we were besties even if we’re never friends again! I’m so sad we may never be friends again. Part of me thinks there’s just been a series of miscommunications. Another part of me suspects the whole thing was a puff of smoke based on what, sitting near each other? I don’t want that to be true, so of course I’m ruminating. The ruminating goes deeper too.

When a friend disappears from my life I not only grieve that relationship, I panic about all the others. I squint and evaluate everyone around me, “Do I know you?” Sometimes it probably becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. But it’s so hard to trust anyone when so many people I considered lifelong ride-or-dies have galloped off suddenly, without explanation.

Especially in times of personal crisis, I wonder who is there for me? Obviously Dern, always Dern. …But, so, when I am trying very hard not to stress Dern, who won’t I bother? I hate feeling like a bother. It’s not impossible my entire motivation in life is to avoid being a burden.

The other two reasons for sadness are a family update and one of my producers on our premiere not respecting my time and opinions. These are very third tier issues compared to the gray heath concerns. But if those gloom clouds clear, these things are significant.

I’m writing because I always feel better when I’m writing. Maybe any of this will help me process. But more importantly, the act has given me some relief, even briefly. I spoke to a young writer last night who said acting was hard but writing spilled out of her. I saw myself immediately.

I feel so out of control, because I am. It’s simply not a high control time in my life. And that’s gonna have to be okay. I’ve been loving things like going to Jackass in the theatre, Shakespeare on the bluff with the old play team, and Hilary Duff at the Forum. Gosh I am blessed to death. Honestly, what an amazing life. I even darkly consider how much I’ve panicked about my loved one as proof of the immense care I have for them.

And so I’ve been thinking, I’m going to have to figure it out myself, on my own, most of the time. I really don’t trust anyone to be there for me, so maybe I have to start trusting I’ll be there for me. Mariah Carey was really deep with that one. Deeper than I could comprehend when Trelawny and I were singing “Hero” at the camp talent show.

Was any of this interesting? Maybe you could use some inspiration to save yourself too, Stacey.

Meanwhile I could use some obvious signs.

xoxo

Alice

ps pls forgive any weird typos or formatting, because of being on my phone

pps enneagram three alert, it’s July 14 and I just revised all the little typos