The Last Post.

Ten years ago today I wrote the first entry of this blog in a Christchurch flat in Avonhead and now a decade later, because I’m a nostalgia nerd, I’m writing the final entry. I’m not sure what to write or who will read this, so I figured I’d just look back at the past decade of my life. The good and the bad… So since June 4, 2005 this happened: I moved to Christchurch, lead youth groups, attended four Easter Camps as a youth leader, I have written a bunch of songs, I've been paid to act, work in wrestling and play my own music. In 2006, my friend Richard McIntosh died of cancer in February, my childhood friend Saul Whaangaa committed suicide later in the year and on October 24, 2006 my Dad Ron died and I held his hand as he slipped away. I've tramped and drunken hot Raro after sitting in natural hot pools on the Copland track. In 2005 I attended my first and only ball, with a Narnian theme, I've lived with friends, family, strangers and alone. I’ve lost friends I thought I’d have for life, I've told the truth and I’ve lied. I’ve given and I’ve stolen. I’ve broken promises and hurt people I loved. I've been kind and I’ve been cruel. I’ve felt the comfort of believing I belonged in a community of faith and the cold, empty, crushing feeling of being excommunicated. I’ve walked away from the church and lost my faith. I’ve played a lot off video games and watched a lot of movies to distract me from the loneliness I was dwelling in and in doing so, I’ve rediscovered my passions and embraced them fully, forging exactly the career I want. That’s a miracle! I’ve risen buses, trains planes and boats. I’ve seen the Foo Fighters twice and Green Day once. I’ve trashed a drum set onstage. I’ve been praised and vilified, often by myself. I’ve attended numerous counseling sessions and taken thousands of pills. I’ve eaten too much junk and not paid rent. I’ve walked streets in small towns and big cities until the early hours of the morning listening to music in my headphones trying o find escapism and optimism. I’ve been branded a weirdo. I’ve been called manipulative, inspiring, abusive, selfish, funny, talented, pathetic, gay, caring, self-centered and told I only care about myself. I’ve fallen in love. I’ve laid next to someone and begged God to let this be the one. I feel embarrassed writing a lot of this stuff. I’ve longed for an idealized version of the past and blamed everyone else for my problems. I’ve signed up to Bebo and Facebook. I’ve nervously avoided certain people’s accounts, knowing it would do me no good looking at it. And I’ve looked. I’ve watched people grow up and become adults, get married and have kids. I’ve had those clichéd nights, days and summers that you remember the rest of your life. I had an intense relationship that I thought I wouldn’t be able to live without. But I did. In 2007 I walked out of church as a preacher told the congregation that if you believe in God enough that bad things won’t happen to you. 24 hours after my friends and I were in a serious car crash. I’ve been kicked out of flats for not paying rent. I still don’t know why I didn’t just pay. I sat in a bathtub in my flat days after my 24th birthday and seriously considered suicide after being told to leave another flat. But I kept going. I moved in with my Mum again. It was ultimately for the best. I wrote and dreamt a lot. I was diagnosed clinically depressed. I stopped taking pills. It worked. I learnt family secrets. In 2010, I took drama classes and made temporary friends. It wasn’t meant to be. In 2011, I had my first real professional acting gig, a four week tour. 2011 was like a greatest hits year… In October I auditioned for drama school, right before as girl named Victoria. I’ve been dating her since 2012. After a roller coaster three years, I graduated in 2015 with a Drama degree. That still blows my mind. I’ve made movies and starred in movies, I even have an IMDB profile! Ha! Mad! I hang out with and receive mentorship and guidance from Jonathan King and just directed Cori Gonzalez-Macuer and Ben Fransham in a short film! I’m going to make my own feature film and an album. Despite everything, or maybe because of everything… This screwup is living his dream. And with that, I officially post my final entry for the decade upon this blog. Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end. :P There Is Nothing Left To Lose. 04/06/2005 – 04/06/2015

The Real Blog Rebirth.

On January 11, 2011 I decided to start blogging here again. But I didn't. I have no reason for this except laziness. Anyway I have re-read old posts and after both laughing and cringing thought it might be about time to start blogging again. And so I shall. At this moment in time I have nothing springing out at me to write about, nor do I expect many people to read or comment. But gosh darned it. I'm going to give it the old college try. So welcome to my blog: Version 2.0. Please take off your shoes.

I think I'm going to start posting on here again. I don't know if anyone will read it but it seems like a good idea. Oh Nostalgia!

HOLY FREAKIN' CRAP!

So according to the radio today Johnny Depp is tipped to play The Riddler in rhe sequel to The Dark Knight. Not sure how he'll be able to top Batman Forever though... *cough* *snicker*.

Does anyone other than Stan actually read this?

Goldie.

This afternoon Matt Barus and I decided to go to Sumner for Fish and Chips for lunch given it was such a lovely day. We dropped into the Poulson St Sallies shelter to see if a young guy we knew named Nick wanted to come to the beach. He wasn't there but Goldie was. Goldie is a man we met today. He has long stringy hair, scattered tattoos, is overweight and sang alot of songs. He yoddled as well. Goldie asked us if he could come to the beach and show us where God had spoken to him. He refered to Matt and I as his angels. He began huffing a substance in the backseat, apologising profusely.
We woun our windows down and continued talking about his various experiences and trials. I found myself unable to believe everything he said. This caused me conflicting emotions. We arrived in Sumner and Goldie made $4.00 busking to children. After Matt and I ate our lunch (Goldie had a plastic plate in the car with ham, cheese and agreen vegetable on it) we looked at the ocean. Goldie stripped to his underwear and jumped in the sea. He enjoyed it, got out and huffed some more. We dropped him at the City Mission as he asked and carried on home. It was a strange encounter. I'm glad I had it but my reactions surprised me. Which leaves me feeling kind of... I don't know yet. Yeah.

I have been sick for a long time. I have done stupid things in an attempt to destroy myself. I have starved myself as punishment for my existence. I have punched brick walls and ground my knuckles into gravel to feel relief and guilt. I have drunk coffee and cola to increase my insomnia. I have stood in front of mirrors and frequently told myself what I believed... 'I'm pathetic, stupid, useless, a waste of life, that I need to hurt myself.'

I have used money as a means to make things difficult for myself and others.
I gave away money I couldn't afford to give away. I signed up to things I couldn't afford, bought things I ddin't need because I believed I didn't deserve things to run smoothly for me, that things needed to be hard, complicated. I found my self needing to ask people to pay my way because I was too much of a loose unit to function basically and was desperate to hide it figuring that I would be dead sometime soon so why worry about consequences? I have been hiding in shadows for a long time.

I had no real grasp on what was going on with me, how bad things really were. I was unaware how bad my depression, finances and self image were. I figured people needed to hate me because I hated myself so much. I believed that if people liked me I was fooling them because I felt I had nothing good in me. I wanted to self destruct. I wanted to see people hate me. Or so I thought. I wanted to hurt, to starve to flirt with death because I had convinced my self for years, subtley first, then blatantly that this was what I deserved. Pain.

I don't believe that anymore. I am not that person anymore, and while I am still struggling with issues I've refused to face for the better part of a decade, while I still have to force myself to eat, while I still struggle with stressing out and jumping to the worst conclusions... I am getting better. I am better than I have been in a long time. I feel happiness now and have little reservation in revealing my past to others. I want to live.

I accept what I have done. I own what I have done. I am responsible for my own actions. I understand this.

So from here on out I am concerned with cleaning up my messes and moving forward positively and healthily. If you want to acknowledge my past, accept that it happened and move forward in a new direction with me please feel free. If not that's fine. But I refuse to allow anyone else's bitterness and ill thought eat away at me.

I'm sorry to everyone for everything I've done.

AJ