Alright I’m back again. Went through a 3 month dark catatonic depression. It’s been a rough winter, even though the weather here in NYC has been mild, the storm in my head has blanketed me in snow (Hello! I’m Robert Frost all the sudden!) It got bad. I would wake up every morning with thoughts of how to die but then would feel worse because I’d immediately realize that I'm too much of a pussy to kill myself. I have no tolerance for pain so slitting my wrists is out, pills would be an option but I can't get my hands on any even though the headline NO NAME FEMALE COMIC DIES FROM ONE A DAY MULTI-VITAMIN OVER DOSE would be super glamorous! I’m too tall to hang myself...suicide just ain't my cup a tea! Anyway don't be alarmed these were just fantasy's and I am not suicidal because I have too many people around me that would be devastated because I’m so damn fantastic and lovable! I have had a family member and a few friends take their lives and I've seen the aftermath and it's just fucking selfish and at the end of the day they are the pussies. Well ok, I understand pain and feeling trapped and like there is no solution but there almost always is. I understand when one is in that “quick sand” it’s harder to see the solutions so I can’t judge people for feeling like they know their time is up, but I can say that it is selfish to the people around them and sort of thoughtless because you would think that people who spend their days swallowed in their own pain and turmoil would have a little more self awareness. I know this journey's not over yet for me at all! There are really amazing, really fucked up, really real things to come that is my reason for being here so bring it on! I have things I want to accomplish before I die like I want to be a mother and a wife, I want to swim with the dolphins, I want to see a lightning storm at sea, I want to pretend I’m Roseanne and crank call Martin Mull.
The thing is when I am really depressed I can get to a place where I literally can't get out of bed for anything. Who knew that in high school when the kids used to joke that I had a mattress strapped to my back that it would be a prophecy? It can get bad I can go for days without showering, moving or opening my eyes and I wish I was one of those people that when I get depressed I can't eat a morsel. Quite the opposite...when I’m sad or mad I can't stop. It's like nothing you've ever seen before...I spend HUNDREDS of dollars on it, I order everything imaginable, I eat it, lick it, devour it, cry into it. It's the only thing that gives me any sort of comfort when I’m in a state like that. Right now I'm huge because of it and it's not cute especially as summer approaches. I'm not gonna be able to pull off the thick black leggings with built in spanx and giant sweaters anymore. In the winter I get to use my smoke and mirrors like painting on a jaw line, hair extensions (because the volume of the hair balances out the volume of the flesh and the length covers your body with an extra layer), blousy sweaters, undergarments from the 1960's...point is I know how to make myself look pretty damn hot. But in the summer it's a whole different ballgame. You can't get away with tips and tricks from Ru Paul’s Drag Race anymore. You have to be naaaaaatural, and just throw on a breezy little dress, and let your freckles show, be kissed by the sun and chew on a daisy stem...it's not human!
Last summer I got thin and I can do it again, I mean I know how it’s really not that difficult just cut out carbs and do cardio. I’m determined again so let the cycle of fat thin fat thin fat thin commence! But I don’t want to be thin thin because it never lasts and I think I’m naturally curvy so I’m gonna embrace it. I just want my waist a little tinier and my stomach a little flatter. I’m ok with the big old T&A, what can ya do.
The other day when I was cleaning my apartment, my arm fat and my boob made a farting noise when they rubbed together and I lyed down on the floor and stared into space for twenty minutes. That was my rock bottom moment!
My shrink told me that she's not worried about my over eating tendencies because she claims it's better and less worrisome than my drugs, alcohol and dangerous sex addictions which I can certainly agree with and that it’s better to be a little chubbier and chain-smoke. I think she throws around the word addiction kind of willy-nilly though. Personally I like to think of legal misdemeanors and narrowly escaping aids as more of a hobby but that’s just me. Right now I can't even try to squeeze into anything that fit me last summer. I see petite little stylish girls in motor cycle boots and skinny jeans with Fara Fawcett tits with no bra eaux my gawd! and gay boys who dress like they're 22 when they're clearly in their mid to late 30’s (THE BEARD DOESN'T HIDE ANYTHING! YOU'RE IN YOUR 30'S WHY ARE YOU WEARING A STRING BIKINI TOP AND HIGH TOP PUFFY SNEAKERS YOU SILLY FUCK!) and I want to kill! I hate New York sometimes. I know it's exciting to people who just moved here from a square state and they want to break into fashion or be a big comedy star but I grew up here and take my word for it, it's ruined! Ever since Lou Reed went on methadone this city hasn't been the same. Most people are just shit talking, ass kissing, uneducated about life, white bread and mayonnaise, boring as hell losers. Like...do some drugs dork! Get something pierced! Jesus!
So starting to feel really good, getting my ass in gear and ready to give comedy the old college 80% again! I want to give it 100% but it is important to go at my own pace because otherwise when things move too fast I spiral. I took a few months off from stand up all together but now I’m performing again and am killing so I’m reminded that I am indeed the shit! It's annoying though because gigs I’m booking keep getting cancelled and postponed. My website is down because I let my godaddy account expire and someone bought my domain name in the interim and now I have to buy it back which is super annoying and scary but I’m determined to get it back. In the meantime it's Harriethalloway.net, which is fucking lame. Onwards and upwards from here kids. Hopefully I can get my inner thighs to not touch each other and get fuck me looks by someone other than just black men for a change by June. SHE'S BACK!