Becoming the Cable Guy

03/18/2010 05:12 am ET | Updated May 25, 2011

My dearest friend in the universe has nicknamed me Cable Guy. At first, I'm horrified that she is trying to tell me I'm a crazy stalker. Then she tells me she hasn't seen the whole movie, just the part where Jim Carrey thinks TV is real. Phew. I so don't want to be a crazy stalker. However, I have suffered most of my life believing television was real. This is sad, but true. This is also what complex PTSD onset at age three due to severe childhood trauma and neglect will do to you.

Nevertheless, television and movies have always been my friend, my real mother, my real father, and my future boyfriends and college life and eventual career. Television and hijacked cable was there for me through the constant fighting of my father and my stepmother, through the severe abuse, through puberty when my stepmother cut my hair like a boy and pointed out in the parking lot of Red Lobster in the Valley that I had "boobies" well after I was a C-cup, and said I needed a bra, and then pretended it never happened.

As a matter of fact, when I left a "high end" junior college in Santa Barbara to finish college in New York, and my Narcissistic Sociopath father left me standing in a bank in Long Island with no shoes on and returned to California without me, without putting any money in a bank account like he'd promised, like everything he'd promised me a million times in my life and I continued to believe him, (Stockholm Syndrome is not only real, it's a bitch), television was there to comfort me. I somehow found my way back to my old house in Santa Barbara, where my old roommates graciously allowed me to stay on the couch until I figured out what I was going to do, now that my plans of finishing college were done.

I was so lost, I spent all of my time alternating between staring at one spot on the blank white wall in the living room for six straight hours, and watching Melrose Place. Ah, the original Melrose Place, my old friend. I would watch, unknowingly petrified about my continual lack of safety, my homelessness, and the sheer horror that I had actually allowed myself to make future plans for myself. Alison and Billy, played then by Courtney Thorne Smith and Andrew Shue, would come on the screen, probably fighting about Amanda, played by Heather Locklear. All I would think, however, is "Wow. What a nice apartment Billy and Alison have. I wonder how they got such a good apartment? And what a great location. They're young like me and friends with all of their neighbors. How do they have such great jobs? How did Billy just get a job at the Advertising Agency when all he did before was drive a cab? Wow. What a great apartment."

I would go on dates and daydream of saying "I watch a lot of movies," and my date would know exactly what I meant. And by what I meant, I mean when I would tell him about my fascination with Satanic Ritual Abuse Survivor chat rooms, he would ask "Why?" and I would reply "Because what's the worst thing that can happen to you? Satanic Ritual Abuse! You can't tell anyone because a) They will be too scared to be your friend for fear they will get killed or b) They will not want to be your friend because they won't believe you and will think you are crazy!" And he would TOTALLY get me and think I was quirky and smart and adorable, just like kooky Drew Barrymore in Never Been Kissed. Sadly, when my date thought I was creepy, I was confused. "This isn't how it happens in the movies! Something isn't going right here. Something is wrong with him." I would think.

Eventually, I did what anyone who believes Television and Movies are real would do: I moved to Hollywood. And thus began my life lessons in the deconstruction of my belief systems and my long road to learning how to have a real human experience. What have I learned so far? Hollywood is way too glorified.