Before you start telling me I'm a treat addicted baby who only freaked out because they didn't get something they wanted, let me explain myself and the situation, because it's all a lot bigger than missing out on just one movie. Also, I'm aware that even the vague details I'll be giving out here would be enough for someone motivated to dox me, but I honestly don't care. I post the podcast I host under my real name from this account, so I honestly am at the point where I could give two shits about "oPsEc." If someone wants to come for me, so be it.

The Movie

Ever since moving to the major city I now live in a couple months ago, I've been frequenting this repertoire theater usually multiple times a week. It's a really cool, smaller place with a great atmosphere, friendly passionate staff, lots of regulars who, like me, are there all the time, and they show a cool variety of movies. And, it's all on 35mm, including a cartoon before the movie and cool retro adds/trailers to match the genre/theme of the film playing. For instance, a couple weeks ago they played a midnight screening of The Wachowski's Speed Racer to a room full of fellow fans, and Emile Hirsch (who plays Speed Racer) even showed up to introduce the movie/watch it with everyone. It's a place that brings me a lot of joy, as watching movies is like my primary escape from the horrors of reality/pathetic truth of my own life.

When the theater released the March schedule a month ago, the screening for 3/14 was an advance screening of a horror movie that's about to come out, featuring the writer/director in person doing a Q&A afterwards. It's a director I enjoy, in a genre I love, and a movie I was already looking forward to seeing, so it seemed perfect. Only problem - the tickets sold out in less than 2 hours, 2 hours I happened to be asleep during. So, my only option was to show up and wait in a standby line to hope there where no-shows and open seats. So, yesterday, I'm able to get off work early, and arrive at the theater at 5:15- two hours and 15 minutes before the movie started (7:30), hoping I would be the first person in the standby line, therefore improving my chances of getting in. Instead, there's already like 15 people in the line ahead of me, including people with lawn chairs as if they'd been there for hours. But, still hopeful, I get in line anyways. I mean, 15 open seats is absolutely possible, right?

Waiting in line as the sun sets and I get sweaty (thanks daylight savings time) I find out why the screening sold out so fast. Apparently the studio/distributor) behind the film (the one that every annoying film bro and art hoe would commit sepukku for) had bought over half the theaters seats/the tickets for famous people/critics/wealthy studio connected people. So, as we all stand in the standby line, the time growing ever closer to 7:30, more and more blazer and jean wearing PMC fuckers, famous/well connected people (that Stranger Things kid motherfucker), and their friends, are just able to casually stroll up and get their FREE tickets and walk right in. This goes on, with these spoiled fucks arrive even AFTER 7:30 when the lights were down and trailers had started. All in all, 12 people from the standby line (which had grown all the way down the block, much longer than me) got in. The three in ahead of me and then me would have been the next in line to get in. But no, it was full, we would get to see now movie. I walk to my car, anger bubbling to the surface.

The Movie Felt Analogous

I was pissed off. I was dejected. I was defeated. I was angrily explaining how the situation had played out to someone I was close with on the phone. I frankly say "I think I'm done. Done with everything. I'm tired of losing. I'm tired of trying only to get shit on." Why was I so upset when all that had happened was missing out on a movie?

I moved here (fine it's LA - again, dox me if you want, idc) in January to try and peruse what I feel is the only thing that brings me satisfaction/purpose - writing, specifically writing for film/TV. This is after 4 years of college that were filled with poor mental health (despite trying numerous medications and med combinations and even TMS , which is like low-intensity shock treatment), having to come to terms with being trans, basically no friendships despite my best efforts and constantly putting myself out there (same goes for romantic efforts), and a final year and a half spent stuck at home doing virtual classes. Bascially complete and total personal anguish and unhappiness, the only thing keeping me going being the enjoyment of my classes/major/professors/craft of writing. So, after a year of applying to dozens of competitions/fellowships/internships and getting nothing, I work for the second half of the year cleaning toilets, working in a kitchen, and in an office - all to save up to just move to LA and try to get an entry level job in the entertainment industry, while continuing to work on my writing and submit to contests and competitions.

But when I get here it only gets worse. Now even my family and my few friends I had back in my hometown are gone. I don't have the institutionalized structure and motivator of school anymore either. And I can't get a job. As of today, I have applied for 294 entry level jobs in the entertainment industry since mid-December. Mail room positions, assistant positions at agencies/studios, PA positions - anything I feel I could use as a pathway into my prospective career. But all I've gotten is rejections. I knew this industry would be tough to get into, but they won't even hire me for the grunt work. A bachelors degree from a well know art school, a resume of previous work in customer service/office environments, skills needed in this business like coverage and scheduling, a script that's gotten two quarter final placements and a semi-final placements in well known competitions - and all I've been is rejected. For 294 jobs. Because all of them want 1-3 years of explicitly entertainment assistant experience. For entry level positions. So I'm working at a call center.

And I can't make friends either. Every event I go to, every person I try to talk with seems disinterested. They seem satisfied with the bubble they're in and don't want to entertain or talk to someone not from it. And the option of meeting people through work is out the window, because I don't have the type of job I want and the one I do have is remote from my home so I don't even meet/see anybody. My couple of weeks spent on tinder/bumble bring nothing but a handful of matches that never respond. I might as well be invisible here. I don't remember the last time I had any sort of physical contact with another person - even a handshake or a hug. Hugging my friend goodbye when he made the trip out here with me/helped me move in and then flew back home might be the last time.

So not getting into the movie was emblematic. It was a final straw of me putting effort and hope into someone I cared about, something I aspired to, only to get pushed down and put in my place by a bunch of well connected rich, successful people who probably didn't earn the free luxury treatment they're getting. It's another case of me asking for even the smallest victory only to get shit on. It's rich people getting better treatment than people who patronize a place on a weekly basis. It's unfair indifference and apathy cleaving in two what little optimism I can muster in the face of personal, mental, and professional bleakness. That's why the not getting into a movie had me feeling the most hopeless I might have ever felt - had me contemplating suicide as seriously as previous moments where I had almost attempted it.

Now

The rest of last night was a brief, numb blur. After erratically driving while shouting about my situation on the phone to one of the few people that care about me, I pulled over a couple blocks away to try to calm down. As I sat there, remaining on the phone, the emptiness felt like it just kept growing. Suddenly I was hardly moving. All I could mumble out in response to the person on the other end of the line were short phrases like "I don't know" and "I can't take it anymore." Eventually, after about 30-45 minutes, I was able to make myself drive the rest of the way home in a dazed, numb stupor. I immediately walked to my bed, fell on it, finished the call, and went to sleep.

This morning I woke up and still felt numb. In the past, a nights sleep was usally enough to return me to normal levels of depression/stability, but not this time. I still felt hopeless. But I had work to log on to. So I did, sitting there and taking calls like a robot, while my insides rotted and I thought about how I needed to die to stop the pain.

Thankfully, as the day went on and I was able to talk more about my feelings to people, including my therapist, I've improved slightly. Returned somewhat closer to normal. Well, obviously not completely since I'm writing all this out and obviously still feeling it. But I don't think I'm going to kill myself at lest... for now. Who knows how much longer I can keep this up for. Who knows how many more drops before the levee breaks again, and who knows if I'll make it to the other side.

If you've read all this, thanks for listening. You care more and notice me more than it feels like most do. I guess just remember that you never know what people are carrying about with them and how close they are to breaking down - mentally, financially, whatever. I hope things will get better. I hope I start to find fulfillment. I hope I can find out what being happy again feels like. I hope.

I didn't proofread this at all, and sorta just vomited it all out in a venting daze, so I apologize for whatever typos, misspelling, grammatical errors, and unclear phrasing there definitely is.