I’m still in Cycle 2, about two weeks out from my five days of chemo. Full dose this time. Graduated to the scary red pill. No more easter pink.

I didn’t think too much about the higher dose when I started. How could I, really? No amount of worrying can prepare you for how your body is actually going to react once the drugs are in your system. I knew from Cycle 1 to expect fatigue. What I didn’t know was how long it would stick around. The first time, I had two or three days of intense fatigue and then felt mostly like myself again. This time, the fatigue lingered, and my anxiety was worse.

The day before my shoot, I had one of those errands I’ve done a million times. Pick up equipment from a few different ShareGrid locations. Normally, I’d just map out the stops and go. That day, the whole thing felt overwhelming. I was in the DGA parking garage when my mind wandered for a split second. The sound of my car hitting a concrete pole snapped me right back.

Alex and Javier helping me with the tow guy, who at first did not believe he would be able to fit inside the garage

Nobody was hurt, except the pole. My car was totaled (it was probably about time), and my pride was in shambles.

Poor blue, she didn’t deserve such a fate. She was so good to me. I miss her very much.

I’m still surprised by how much shame I felt afterward. So much of my self-worth is tied up in my work, in how much I can do, how independent I am, and how well I can do everything by myself. Since my diagnosis, I’ve had to slow down and find other ways to work, and ask for a lot of help. I’m glad I have those outlets, but I miss being on set. And when a routine gear pickup suddenly feels like too much, it’s hard to give myself any grace.

I’d been looking forward to shooting my short for a long time, so of course I insisted we could still shoot the next day. My best friend and producer, Mailyne Briggs, heard me out and then told me this was an out-of-the-ordinary day and we needed to postpone. She was right. I still protested.

Meanwhile, stranger then, but now new friend, Alex, who was on his way to get a flu shot, stopped to help. He stayed with me for hours and used his AAA to get my car towed. Getting a tow truck onto the second floor of the DGA garage, with those ridiculously low ceilings, was a whole other production. Javier, one of my favorite people at the DGA, recommended Class Auto Repair on Oxnard in Van Nuys. They let me leave the car there over the weekend while I figured out what to do with insurance. Thank you, Alex and Javier. And thank you, Mai and Elizabeth, for showing up for me on a day I really needed you.

I was grateful for all that help, and I was still really depressed for days afterward. I’ve had to depend on people more since my diagnosis, and accepting help is still hard for me. Even when the people I love are willing to show up, there’s a part of me that worries I’m a burden. I wish knowing how much they care made that feeling go away. Some days it helps. Some days it’s still hard to find a reason to get out of bed.

This week, a couple of things finally felt a little more normal. I picked up a one-day AD gig, and it felt good to be back on set, even for a day. Mai and her partner, Chris, also went car shopping with me, and on October 29 we found my next car, a 2019 Honda HR-V. I’m still getting used to pushing a button to start it.

Car shopping with two friends I owe so much to

New HRV car! Thank you to my parents for the help and for really supporting me in this crazy rollercoaster I am in right now.

I still haven’t shot my short. I’m still tired. And I’m still figuring out how to accept help without treating it like a personal failure. But now that the dust has settled a little, I keep thinking about the people who showed up for me that day, and the family and friends who keep showing up on the ordinary days, too. For now, that’s enough reason to keep falling forward, even on the days it’s hard to feel it.

Falling Forward | Cycle 2, Me Against a Pole