It’s tough sometimes for those of us who trade words for money. You say things and you say things and you say things without listening or thinking about what they mean. You are going for laughs and you are going for recognition and you are going for everyone’s attention and sometimes your thoughts don’t have a chance to pass through your heart in their speedy journey from your sick head out of your potty mouth and then before you know it, the damage has been done.
I want to apologize (yes again and even more so this time) for the insensitive remarks I made on “Watch What Happens Live”. It was disappointing – in that I really disappointed myself because I have wanted to be on that show since it’s been on the air, and my ever present longing to do well and make a splash and have an impact really backfired. I also did a stellar job in disappointing countless others with my callous, witless tongue. I was thinking about myself solely, no one else, which I hate. I was way out of line.
What I was trying to say – in my own ignorant and muddled fashion – is that I have fears about having children and whether or not my body – which I have ravaged and ruined myself with a thousand abuses from drugs and drinking to excessive eating followed by systematic starvation – etc etc etc – is capable of bringing a healthy baby into the world.
I think life is hard, and this planet is an especially unforgiving one – spinning thoughtlessly and carelessly on its axis without regard for humanity and all those who suffer daily from the dizzy – and if I want to drag someone else into this mess of a world – an innocent soul, a mere baby bystander – I want to give that kid the best chance possible. I want my child to have everything, and honestly, I am not sure my body can promise anyone that. I have long feared my body, held it at a kind of arm’s length, residing just outside my own lavishly decorated skin since nearly my very first conscious moment. I have shunned my body – blamed it and loathed it and now, years too late, I am finally trying to love it and understand it and treat it for the glorious thing that it is, my soul’s abode.
I lie in bed late at night wondering when my body will exact its revenge, take its deserved due, after so many years of acrimony and anorexia, hangovers and overtime, vicious colds and heartaches I have never allowed myself to recover from. Would it be now, when I have so much love in my life that I greedily seek to create more love, in the form of a child? Will my body fail me finally, as I have eternally failed it from practically the moment of its(my) own conception? It would only be fair, but as my unkindness towards others is but a mere shadow of the unkindness I am capable of against myself. I fear my body will have the last word, and instead of penalizing me only, it would hit me where I really live, in the body of my preciously abstract yet to be conceived child.
These ugly fears swirl in me constantly, and unfortunately, they came out, rude and plain, in an unguarded moment, on live television.
Believe me when I say I never meant to hurt anyone. Know that the children of the world, especially those differently-abled kids and their brave, ever noble parents and families, who have it hard enough to begin with, deserve much better than me and my idiotic need for approval in the form of nervous laughter. At the very least, please understand, I really have always tried to be of service to others, and even though I have hurt some along the way, there are still those who come to me and say I made them feel good when they desperately needed it, and stranger to stranger, actually helped them in their difficult lives. It doesn’t excuse my behavior, but it does mean my heart is in the right place. I try to be good, and at times (like these) I fail, but I will always keep trying.
I have long considered myself a protector of the bullied, champion of their causes and committed to their safe passage. What a rude awakening to realize I am myself a bully – nothing but a bully in dire need of comeuppance and a slap in the face.
Whenever anyone says anything unsavory in the media (see “shut up karl”), I am the first to cast stones, point fingers, howling like a banshee, calling out loud for apologies and retribution and reparation and openly painful regret. Now, I lie bleeding against the shards of my own glass house.
Let my sorrow and guilt pay for my misdeeds and know that I will try each day, every day, always and forever more, to be better.