As Seen On TV

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend is my favorite binge-worthy show not produced by Netflix. As a lover of musical theatre and all things big, bright, and dramatic, this show is right up my alley. If you haven't seen Crazy Ex-Girlfriend and have thought of starting to watch it, please leave and watch all episodes out right now, and then come back to this post. I'd hate to ruin anything for you. Same goes for any current viewers who haven't seen the latest episode. Because that's all this post is about today.

If you're never going to watch a music sitcom (uhm, who are you? please do it), you need some context. Crazy Ex-Girlfriend follows the life of Rebecca Bunch, a Yale/Harvard Law Graduate who leaves her big practice in NYC to relocate to West Covina, California to find her happiness, NOT to get back with her drama camp boyfriend from years ago, Josh Chan. So she gets a job at a law firm, dumps all her depression and anxiety meds, and goes about getting the man of her dreams. It all goes wrong, at the end of season 2 he leaves her at the alter to become a priest, and sends her into a mental health spiral in season 3. It is a light hearted show with lots of original musical numbers, amazing, relatable characters, and a story line that could go on for seasons.

The latest episode ended with Rebecca attempting suicide. And I want to thank the creators of Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, Rachel Bloom and Aline Brosh McKenna, for this episode, especially Rachel Bloom for depicting the journey to a suicide attempt so beautifully and accurately. As someone who has attempted suicide and sometimes just lives in the zone of "suicidal but don't want to die", this episode highlighted a struggle I personally could connect to more than I would have wished to.

Watching Rebecca pull those pills out of her pocket, look at them, and form the idea to overdose, was a completely silent few seconds that felt like minutes. I remembered that feeling. Pouring the pills out, feeling how they tumble onto your hands, knowing that's a lot of drugs and its going to mess you up. But then not caring. Because you want to be messed up. You want to be so messed up that you die. You swallow them all before you can change your mind. You have to act on the impulse before you get too scared. That's always the thing about it for me, is that I know overdosing is a bad idea, I know suicide will do more harm than good in the world, but I'm hurting and I don't have anywhere to turn.

You know I have somewhere to turn, reader. I know right now I have MANY places to turn. But in those moments, always in those moments, I forget I have people to run to, people who love me. In my mind they are all pretending. They feel sorry for me, they actually hate me and are just pretending, if I go back a failure they'll all ridicule me....my brain is an asshole when it comes to making up reasons not to get help when I'm low. From the episode it is supremely evident that many people will miss Rebecca if she is gone. It is evident in my life that I will be missed as well. But sometimes, my brain wins. Sometimes, it puts blinders on me and tells me I've been deluding myself into feeling loved by my circle. I could tell that's how Rebecca felt in this episode, too.

This episode was a gift. I know I have friends who struggle with suicidal feelings as well, but I've never seen a journey to the darkness that is acting on your suicidal ideations from an outsiders perspective before. I recognized so much of it. The insomnia and then sleeping all day. The loss of appetite. The refusal to trust others. The isolation of oneself. I recognized, and I understood, and in turn, felt that someone out there got it, and that's all I've wanted for longer than I can remember. Is someone to get it. Someone to know how all of this feels. Because none of what I feel is good when I'm in a depressive low.

But there is always hope. The episode closes with Rebecca holding up an empty pill bottle and asking for help. There is a beautiful moment where the call button above her seat on the plane she's on, which says help, suddenly turns to the word hope, and that's when Rebecca pushes it. She's foggy from the pills, she knows she's in trouble, she sees a stranger with a friendly face (a very sweet flight attendant) and asks for help. She has hope. She doesn't actually want to die.

That moment was a revelation for me. I've never fully wanted to die. I don't want my whole body to die. I just want the "bad" parts of me to be gone. The parts that are depressed, and anxious, and the parts that assume everyone is going to leave me, the parts of me that hate myself, the parts of me that tell me that I'm going to die alone and friendless. I want the voice that second guesses every good thing I do, to be dead. I've always kind of hoped there was a way to kill that part of me (I know, go to therapy and get back on your meds), and I think that's why I've always ended up in a hospital. Because I realize that you can't just kill parts of yourself. You have to fix them.

This weeks episode of Crazy Ex-Girlfriend gave me something to connect to. I saw the events of my recent past play out, and I didn't lose any love for Rebecca, which made me realize that if I could still love and appreciate a fictional character, than my very real friends and family are still going to love and appreciate me, even when I'm broken. The love doesn't go away.

Thank you, Rachel Bloom. This show is a gift.

Alexis Olmstead is a 20something part time retail worker, full time diva, living and working in Bellingham, WA. When she's not working or sleeping, Alexis is working on her first photography series, Alexis Is Alone. For more updates, rants, raves, and letters from the road to mental health recovery, check back sporadically.

You are loved, there is hope. Keep moving forward. 

Alexis Reads: "Gone Girl" by Gillian Flynn

I finished "Gone Girl" by Gillian Flynn in a candlelit room, the sickly sweet smell of caramel candles filling the house, lying on my back with the flashlight of my phone, which was held between my chin and my sternum, aimed at the quickly dwindling pages of the book. 

I've owned the paperback copy of this New York Times Bestseller for quite a few months now, but moving, starting a newish job, playing part-time actress, part time assistant cheer coach, and a recent addiction to Sid Meier's "Civilization: Beyond Earth" has left me little time to read. And that is a shame. Because as soon as the power went out and I settled down into the corner of my couch armed with "Gone Girl" and pure resolve to finish the book before the day was done, I immediately remembered why younger Alexis was such a bookworm. Books are AMAZING, people. Instantly I forgot that I am in a county being ravaged by fire and that I had no power, because I was in this tantalizing world of absolute insanity and there was no possible way I could leave until I had soaked up every last page. 

Nick and Amy Dunne are far from the perfect couple, a fact that becomes more and more clear as the investigation into Amy's disappearance on their fifth wedding anniversary goes deeper and deeper.In what I decided to call "tag-team storytelling" the reader gains valuable insight into both sides of the disappearance through the point of view of both Nick and Amy, who is mostly represented by past-dated diary entries. Through this diary we see Nick and Amy's first meeting, their first kiss, Amy's constant wish for Nick to be something more, her fear for their marriage, her anger at having to leave her luxurious Manhattanite lifestyle to move to Missouri when Nick's mother falls ill. Through the course of these interchanging narratives we begin to question ourselves more and more. Has Amy simply disappeared, or did something more sinister happen? What exactly is Nick's involvement in everything? Just like every true crime show, book, or movie, the husband is the prime suspect, with a trail of evidence leading directly to him, including wickedly clever details that not even he remembers or thinks of when speaking to the police. OR DOES HE?

Basically me, the entire book.

Gillian Flynn's writing is hypnotic at best, and thrill-inducing at worst. The whole book, which is

split into three parts that all end with the reader's mouth agape, eagerly turning the page to continue this story that has them reeling in disbelief, is clever, and perfectly thought out. As the story went on, I began to try to think two steps ahead of the narrator, searching for a flaw in all of these perfect plans, and I didn't find one. And where I  imagine the one plot hole, there was later a careful explanation and a few precautions previously taken to cover the necessary tracks.

Seriously, "Gone Girl" is such a smart book. It is full of twists, turns, pure insanity, and minute details that come back to haunt the reader later, but never for a second does this book let its guard down or let the reader out of its vice-like grip. Honestly, I didn't eat for 11 hours yesterday, because I forgot to, and honestly was a little scared that this book would get mad at me and exact its revenge if I put it down, even for a moment. 

I absolutely recommend this book, more than any book I've reviewed so far here on "I Am Unwritten", and I cannot wait to get my hands on Flynn's other two books, "Sharp Objects", and "Dark Places". 

Before I go, I would like to take a minute to thank all of the hardworking men and women that are out there fighting fires here in Washington state. This week three firefighters lost their lives protecting ours, and that is a sacrifice we, as a community, can never truly repay. So thank you to all the firefighters, from all of us.

Alexis Olmstead is a bookworm, actress, assistant cheer coach, and the mother of three fur children, Scout the Cat, and Haida and Brego the Huskies. She enjoys long musicals, anything involving Idina Menzel, Meryl Streep, or Anne Hathaway, spending time with her family and friends, and a good glass of whiskey. For more rants, raves, and reviews, check back sporadically.