There are stories we tell and stories we don't tell. Here are some of those.

COVID-19

April 05, 2020 by Dixie Perkinson in life

Hey there. I’m back. What did I miss? A global pandemic? Oh, right. I’m experiencing that too. I can’t stop eating. I can’t stop scrolling. I can’t stop being sad. I don’t know why quarantining is hitting me so hard. I’m use to being alone but only on my terms. The biggest lesson I learned from my wounded childhood is that it’s always better to be self-contained. Stick to yourself. Don’t invite anyone in. That’s how someone will hurt you. But this type of isolation? This is paralyzing.

I am not like you

November 17, 2019 by Dixie Perkinson in life

I haven’t pruned in awhile. I was in New York with my family visiting my cousin before he graduates from college. Feeling proud of him and sorry for my dumb-ass. Why didn’t I graduate from college? I went to DePaul University Theatre School in Chicago and didn’t get invited back after my second year due to its arbitrary cut system. It’s not like I did anything wrong, other than apparently sucking at acting. Or was there another reason? Thinking about it, I was definitely not the worst actor in my class. Some of those students partied a ton and didn’t know how to act, yet still got invited back. So what was it? I never got any answers from them, but deep down I always thought my school didn’t want me because of who I was deep down…a misfit/loner/weirdo.

Narcissistic Parent Woes

September 24, 2019 by Dixie Perkinson in life

When you have a narcissistic and/or pathological liar as a parent, sometimes other people have better memories of your parent than you do. Annnnnndddd that sucks, man. It makes you question your reality. Am I being a biggety biotch or was shit not right? Chuck said he liked my dad. So I must be wrong! On top of feeling crazy, a deep feeling of remorse kicks in. Wait…have I been at fault this whole time? Oh no! I’m a bad person. I’m a bad person. I’m a bad person. Hold my calls as I rock myself into oblivion.

No More Korn

September 08, 2019 by Dixie Perkinson in life

I hate getting older. I hate everything about it. The slow metabolism, the wrinkles, the added cellulite, the loss of hopes and dreams. But what’s the alternative? Death? Um…no thanks. I’ll take failure with a side of bingo arms.

But...I Don't Wanna Date!

August 04, 2019 by Dixie Perkinson in life

I can’t believe I’ve gone this long without being in a relationship. It’s a scary feeling when you’re a 36 year old woman with an unstable career choice who desires stability and a family. I’m constantly breathing in the unknown and breathing out my attraction to men who don’t file their taxes.

I'm Back

July 28, 2019 by Dixie Perkinson in life

Oh hey. Yeah, I know…it’s been awhile. I decided to wean off my antidepressants this month. I’ve been on Lexapro and Wellbutrin for five years now and have concluded that it’s time to cut the glorious chord of happy pills. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a huge advocate for these types of medications. Antidepressants aided me to get sober, mourn the absence of my mother, and basically helped me…be normal. It’s hard to put in words why I want to come off these drugs. It’s more of my gut’s desire. A notion that my mind is ready and even craves to heal itself. So I’ve been taking it easy. Hence, no recent prunes. But I think I’m ready to be back. Honestly, I’ve missed….us. Have you?

A Father's Love

June 16, 2019 by Dixie Perkinson in life

I’m estranged from my father. We haven’t spoken in over 6 years. It seems like a no-brainer decision now, but I didn’t always feel that way. Years leading up to that, I had boyfriends, therapists, even scientologist acting teachers tell me I should cut him off. But that terrified me. I can’t!! How can I?? He’s my dad!

Middle Finger Up

June 12, 2019 by Dixie Perkinson in life, thoughts

I’ve been wanting to cut my hair short now for years. However, I feared I wasn’t able to make such a drastic change due to my mediocre acting career. Sure, famous people dye and cut their hair all the time, but could I? What will my agents think? Do I need to ask them for permission? I don’t want to confuse the casting directors. They get flustered so easily. Actors are a dime a dozen. Don’t make it difficult. Also, I didn’t feel skinny enough, pretty enough or young enough to pull it off. Even a couple of days before my hair appointment, a male acquaintance said, “No, don’t! Women aren’t attractive with short hair.” Thanks for your unrequested input, asshole. I did it, anyway.

Mother's Day

May 12, 2019 by Dixie Perkinson in life, dead mom

This mother’s day hasn’t been that hard for me….and I’m not sure how I feel about it. Usually this weekend hits me like a steel toe to the gut. I’m hurled over crying for something that I can’t really explain. It’s more than mourning over a dead parent. It’s more complicated and even darker than death itself. It’s this bleak feeling that I’m cursed and destined for endless pain. Forever feeling different and inadequate because I never got to experience this whole unconditional mother’s love thing that apparently is god given to everyone but me.

The Truth Shall Set You Free

February 24, 2019 by Dixie Perkinson in life

“The Truth Shall Set You Free”

I’ve always liked this phrase. I’ve heard it countless times from movies, The Oprah Show, and everyday conversations. Although, I didn’t realize this was a quote from The Bible. (I was born and raised atheist. Now I’m LA spiritual meaning: I own a yoga mat, a few crystals, and I look at the moon more). I didn’t buy a Bible, but I did look it up on the all-knowing google and discovered it’s meaning. So, truth (being Christianity) shall set you free. (Free of sin and misery and all that icky stuff). Okay. Cool. But is there a secular version of this that I can take and run with?

Wanting, Grieving, Accepting, Changing

February 10, 2019 by Dixie Perkinson in life

I’m sad and restless and want someone to fuck. I’ve sexualized my feelings for so long that I equate sorrow with finger-banging. Unfortunately, I’m breaking old patterns and will not be looking for my next prisoner for my lust or a shirt to discreetly wipe my snot on. Nope. Nope. Nope. Instead, I’ll write. I’ll sit with my pain. I will breath in and out. I’ll blow my nose into a Kleenex. It’s not the same as having an orgasm, but such is life…meaning, life sucks.

Get Over It

February 05, 2019 by Dixie Perkinson in personal narrative, life

I flew home to New Orleans for Jazz Fest. But really, my reason was to confront my father about his sexual abuse. Although at the time, I didn’t refer to it as sexual abuse. I couldn’t comprehend what to call it. All I knew was that it was fucked up. It wasn’t a single event either. He had sex in front of me consistently through out my childhood up until I was a teenager. And even after that, there would be other inappropriate behaviors from showing me topless pictures of women that he photographed to assisting him with his dirty emails.

The Dark Side of Fertility...Muahaha!

January 12, 2019 by Dixie Perkinson in life

Oh hey. Happy New Year. We’re all getting older. Our metabolisms are slowing down. It’s getting harder and harder to lose weight every year. Plus, we’re one day closer to death. Cheers!

Loneliness

November 11, 2018 by Dixie Perkinson in life

Sometimes my loneliness touches a wound inside me that runs so deep. It travels all the way back to past heartbreaks and losses and down to the core…the umbilical cord that once was. Snip. Snip. I feel like a helpless baby with no one around. No one to pick me up. No one to hold me and left to die. Oh, well.

Falling

October 14, 2018 by Dixie Perkinson in life

I’m taking a break this week from writing about my childhood woes because I want to get current. I know I’m choosing to do so, but hot damn it’s hard to face your past head on in a public platform.

The Power of Talking

September 02, 2018 by Dixie Perkinson in life

Growing up, my dad would always tell me… your friends are your worst enemies because they take up all of your time. Practice the violin or read a book instead… be careful who you hang out with because they will bring you down. Also the classic hit…Trust no one. Simple, but to the point. He also planted misogynistic seeds into my head as well. Women aren’t as smart as men. Women aren’t as funny as men. They even change their last names to the man’s because they are less superior. He understood having sex (for his son, not so much for his daughter). So for awhile I never trusted women or even wanted to hang out with them. If I can’t fuck you or get a job from, then why hang out?

FATTY

August 05, 2018 by Dixie Perkinson in life

I can’t remember a time when I liked my body. Even when I was a kid, way before puberty, we would visit my dad’s father who lived in the California mountains every summer. Grandpa would stick an empty water jug between my legs because I was knock-kneed. He thought that would straighten them out. Well, it didn’t. It just made me more self-conscious of my knees. Every time I saw a doctor, my dad would ask if I was overweight. The doctor would always shake his head no. Then puberty hit, and my body didn’t grow like how it was suppose to. I didn’t have cleavage like the girls on 90210 or the same size thighs as I saw on Dawson’s Creek. My stomach was round and Buffy’s was flat. No one looked like me.

Wowza, I'm Freezing My Eggs

June 30, 2018 by Dixie Perkinson in life

Sooooo….I’m freezing my eggs in a couple of weeks. That’s right. I’m being injected with a f*ck ton of estrogen and will hopefully release a lot of little eggs, and then place them in a mysterious freezer until further notice. Ahhhh…just how I imagined things would go when I was a 22 year old planning out my life.

WHY I DON'T SPEAK TO MY DAD

June 17, 2018 by Dixie Perkinson in life

I don’t speak to my father. I haven’t had a conversation with him for over five years, and I haven’t seen him in nearly ten. As some of you know, my mother was murdered when I was a baby. He’s my only parent, yet I don’t return his phone calls, emails or texts. I’m basically ghosting my own father.

To Those with Dead Moms or Sh*t Ones on Mother's Day...

May 13, 2018 by Dixie Perkinson in life

If your mother’s dead like mine or if you currently have a shit mom, then you might feel how I feel on Mother’s Day…sad, angry, jealous and profoundly heartbroken. If that’s not already bad enough, you’re then surrounded by people celebrating and rejoicing in gratitude for the exact same thing that has inflicted you so much pain.