I am a small, petty little person. I like to think that I’m not, but when you boil it down…well…there it is.
Back in March, I made a decision to purchase a 3-day VIP “Norman Reedus Experience” pass for the Wizard World Ohio Con. The pass was purchased on April 4 and ate up most of our tax return. I justified this expenditure with the following thoughts:
- I will never be able to afford to go to the SDCC
- I have been under a lot of stress for the past 1.5 years, clawing my way out of a depression that nearly destroyed us
- I have survived living with Cystic Fibrosis and the WW-OH falls a little over a month before my 40th birthday. Who knows how many more chances I’ll have to do something like this, especially with these lungs
- I deserve to go someplace and do something that’s just for me
- Everyone should have a fangirl/fanboy fantasy realized at least once and meet their hero
Reasonable justification, no?
Today, exactly two weeks from the date that my girlfriend and I were to hit the road and drive from SC to OH, I received word that Norman Reedus would NOT be at the convention. He will come back to OH the following Saturday and honor and photo-op and/or autographs that had been prepaid. At first, I was in shock. Then, the water works began.
To say that I “cried” would be an understatement. I did not cry. I did not weep. I sobbed. Yes, sobbed would be the appropriate description. I sobbed uncontrollably for nearly 3 hours. I endured the cancellation of plans. The phone calls and emails associated with obtaining refunds. At this moment, I still feel like my face is swollen and my eyes burn. I cannot remember the last time that I felt that way.
Part of me says, hey–use the money from OH and go to the Walker Stalkers Con in GA the weekend of your birthday! That would be perfect, right? Wrong. I had already come to the realization that we could not afford to attend two out-of-state conventions back to back. So, I made plans for my birthday weekend that include the hiring of entertainment. I cannot undo those plans because I do not want to mess up anyone else’s schedule. And so, I have now lost the opportunity to attend either convention.
I could go on and on and whine about all of the reasons why I deserved this trip and why it was so important. We have been a house of unemployment since the last week of July (though we are attempting to start a business of our own, but until it gets off the ground, things are tight, to say the least). We have no insurance. One–just one–of the medications for my Cystic Fibrosis costs $300k per year. I have to get assistance from various programs to help cover the cost. As for my other medications, I have enrolled in a clinical research study in order to receive the meds for free. This study takes place at the only adult CF clinic in SC, which is nearly 4hrs away in Charleston. My father passed away last year. Every day, my mother slips further away from us thanks to Alzheimer’s. She is cared for by my sister, who is fighting her own battle with Lupus. I fill my days with as much freelance and busy work as I possibly can in order to avoid slipping back into a state of total depression. I needed this trip. I wanted to feel the same excitement as the myriad other fans whose pictures and tales I’m subjected to on a daily basis.
Yes, I am a petty individual.
I allowed myself that little breakdown. I got dressed. And I headed out to fulfill the commitments that I had planned for today. In my time driving all over town, running errands, I realized just how silly I am behaving. Yes, I feel like I’ve been beaten with a baseball bat. But what for? I mean, listen to me. I’m crying because I can’t meet a celebrity. Really? What am I…12? We will have all of the money refunded. I hadn’t spent anything on my costume yet. The only thing that I have lost is the fantasy of what it would be like to meet Norman. And, well, also what it would have been like to meet Melissa McBride at Walker Stalkers. How selfish am I?
I just mentioned what my mother and sister are going through. And I have friends who are going through their own personal health, financial, and relationship issues. They have had to endure such tragedies and make amazing sacrifices. These are real people with real problems. Sure, having a lung disease is a problem. But it’s one that I have been dealing with for quite some time. And my time on this earth is no more guaranteed than anyone regardless of their health. Who am I to be this upset or to have cried so much over not meeting the cast of The Walking Dead?
This disappointment has opened my eyes to what kind of person I truly am. This was an occasion that called for a “man, that sucks” type reaction. Instead, I had a total meltdown. I just feel like every time we start to get ahead of the game, even a little bit, the proverbial other shoe always drops and kicks me right in the baby maker. “Can’t have shit” as they say.
But enough. Enough of that.
I am done crying about it. I tell people all the time that we have to play the cards that we are dealt, but it’s up to you to decide what the game being played will be. It’s time I listened to my own advice. Wizard World Ohio is not in my fate. Neither is Walker Stalkers. And, neither is meeting the cast of the Walking Dead. It’s done.
I will erase this entry from my calendar and focus all of my energy into the other things that I am responsible for doing. I will work harder at starting our family business. I will spend more time trying to finish my book. I will work harder to stay healthy. I will do my best to make sure that my contribution to the upcoming Old Town Zombie Crawl for the Heart2Heart Foundation is the best that it can be, representing Walker Bait Productions properly. I will do everything that I can to help Charlotte Comicon continue to grow with the upcoming December 15 show. And I will celebrate my upcoming 40th birthday with my head held high.