I just need to get this out of my head...
mcdougherty, mike dougherty
mcdougherty

I haven't blogged in a while, but I think it's long overdue.

I had a dream last night that left me not so happy first thing this morning. As a result this post is more about me getting this out of my head than anything else. So here goes.

In my dream, I was making a documentary about the car accident I had when I was 8 years old. This accident really did happen...the documentary part of it...not so much. I, in nightmarishly sharp detail, remembered parts of the accident, as if it were being re-created for the documentary, that I hadn't thought of in a long time, as "Narrator Me", my current version of myself, talked about the details of the images I saw.

Long story short, after looking both ways to make sure there no cars were coming, I went back to the middle of the crosswalk to pick up a bag of Christmas presents that I had dropped because the crossing guard held my arm to tight. At that point...my face met the front end of a car being driven by a drunk driver. I was drug 15 feet and, when the car stopped, I was tossed for close to the same distance before I stopped at a wall.

Hospital records note that I screamed, the entire time, from the location of the accident until I passed out into a slight comma. I was told I was pronounced dead a few times, but I don't have all of my hospital records to verify that, so I'm taking it on word of mouth/memory that it did. The zygomatic and, part of, the maxillary bones in my face were shattered, my right arm was broken, my back was shredded, and my brain was never going to be the same again.

In the dream, I cycled through a montage of images as "Narrator Me" is explaining the following pieces of my fight back.

Reconstructive surgery left me with a scar right next to my left eye and on a few spots on my face that have, in 28 years, faded into places that will not grow facial hair. The way it was described to my mother was like this. The doctor took out a potato chip, set it on the counter, said "this was your sons face before the accident", he hit it with his fist, and then said "this is the left side of his face afterwards." The width of my back at my shoulders is dotted with tons of circular scars that are the result of gravel and stone embedding themselves there as I was drug under the car. I apparently used some salty language, for an eight year old, when they rest my broken arm. Shocked? Me neither.

My parents were told I might not walk again and there was a high probability that I would have learning disabilities all my life. The term "vegetable" was used, but don't recall if that's just what my mother thought she heard or a word that was actually used.

I, vividly, recalled hearing my mother cry and deciding, as "Narrator Me" explained to the camera, that I was going to do everything I heard the doctor tell me I couldn't. "Narrator Me" explained that thanks to an amazing tutor my parents found, I watched in "Rocky" style fight prep montage, as I spent the last half of my eighth year, and a good part of the first of my ninth relearning everything it took you eight years to do, from tying my shoes to education. Outside of the dream, I can pin point, with accuracy, that's where I fell in love with Sherlock Holmes, Tolkien, Poe, Shakespeare, and so on "Narrator Me" told that the tutor encouraged me to write my own stories and draw the images in my head, because at eight I was reading, and comprehending, at college level.

I abruptly woke up to Kelly telling me it had snowed and that we needed to leave to take her to work.

I don't tell you this to expect responses, sympathy, pity, or any of that sentimental bullshit. I tell you this to get the images out of my head, even for a time, and to process some of what's been spinning around my brain for the better part of two hours.

Because of this accident, my unintentional internal, and often verbally external to the people close to me, mantra has always been "if someone says it can't be done, I say, it can be done and I'm going to prove it."

This morning's drive to work has been a lot of looking back and wondering what took me so long. I live a life of doing things people tell me I won't be able to do. I hid the aforementioned story away in my private memory bank, because I was ashamed that I'd be looked at as "less than" and never realizing it is a defining point that I am "more than." Not "more than" other people, but "more than" what I thought of myself.

Thanks to the support of amazing people I made a movie that I was told would never be made by close friends and people in the "industry." By force of will and the support of an awesome community of people, we made all the money back it took to make the movie and gave tens of thousands of dollars to charity. I stood next to my hero, with my sister (non-blood related), and presented him, and his chosen charity, with a check showing a portion of the work we did...with a movie I was told for, at least, two years would never be made or allowed to be seen. I'm working on a proof-of-concept short for my next film and I'm getting to work with people on my crew who's worked on TV's and Movie's that are in my DVD collection. Yet through all this...I never saw myself as anything other than someone who just wanted to be seen as "normal."

I share this because...it's time to make that shit intentional! I share this because keeping it inside is starting to feel a bit selfish. I share this for the people making noise, in my life and on the Internet, that think what I want to do is impossible or what I have done is "garbage" or caused me to think less of myself because of their own insecurities/inability to chase their dreams with all of the passion of a fat kid chasing a piece of cake...fuck them. The people that love you for the good and bad, unconditionally, no matter what are all that matter. The rest of them...it's just noise.

If you've gotten this far...thank you.
don't know how often I'll come back to this to check comments here, but if we're friends o Faceboo please leave a comment there or if we're friends on Twitter, tweet me a response.


Dear Me.
mcdougherty, mike dougherty
mcdougherty
 You are an inconsistent poster. I wag my finger at you. 

blah, blah, blah, the end
mcdougherty, mike dougherty
mcdougherty
"blah, blah, blah, the end" is something that a friend of mine's kid said to his mother at a party when he was kind of done and ready to go. Heather and I have picked it up and been using it as our "ok, I'm done now" type phrase. I like it, it fits, and it totally feels right for this moment.

So I'm working a conference for my day job assisting with Tech and AV for streaming the conference live. AND I've got a sinus cold. My nose is running, I'm sneezing in randomly, coughing periodically, and just feel miserable...all while I'm staying in a swanky hotel room that's far nicer than my own apartment.

Writer's Block: On the Go
mcdougherty, mike dougherty
mcdougherty
How do you listen to music and watch videos on the go?

I listen to them through my iPod or Android Mobile Phone.

The Hemingway Defense
mcdougherty, mike dougherty
mcdougherty
 In "On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft" Stephen King defined "The Hemingway Defense" as:

As a writer, I am a sensitive fellow, but I am also a man, and real men don’t give in to their sensitivities. Only sissy-men do that. Therefore I drink. How else can I face the existential horror of it all and continue to work?

Besides, come on, I can handle it. A real man always can…

Tonight I'm reminded that there was a Bean who for a short time showed me the size of my heart and imagination...and also how hard those things can beak.

It's Hemingway time.

Not sure how to cope...
mcdougherty, mike dougherty
mcdougherty
I'm a week in to using the CPAP machine and I've noticing a few changes:
  • My legs aren't twitching (they cramp up really bad and jerk...it's annoying) as much when I get really tired
  • I've apparently stopped snoring all together
  • I'm not moving restlessly in my sleep as much (I was the Tazmanian Devil in my sleep)

What hasn't changed: 
  • I'm still waking up periodically in the middle of the night suddenly
  • while I'm not AS physically tired (fighting sleep during the day) I'm still pretty tired
  • I'm just worn out mentally and physically with no real energy.
I wasn't expecting to wake up on the first day and be completely different, but I can't honestly say, for me (those that sleep in the same room would disagree), that I'm noticing a whole lot of difference.

Really, Brain?!? Really?!??
mcdougherty, mike dougherty
mcdougherty

 

I am having a difficult time getting through anything. I am sucking at finishing this Zombie novel I'm working on for National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). I can't wrap my thoughts around some solid ideas for getting Browncoats: Redemption in the hand of every single geek (like me) that I can so we can do something amazing for the charities we are supporting. I have that I am using the word can't so much, but my brain is going about 10,000,000,000, and a few more zeros tacked on there for good measure, a second with ideas going all over the place.

I'm sitting in the Cafe section of a Borders with Kelly who's effortlessly journaling away and I feel like I am having uber A.D.D. Happy fun time, but minus the happy and less on the fun. I am in the worst possible place for me to focus without having a set of headphones, which I intelligently left at home. Normally I can put the headphones one, block out the surrounding sounds of people having conversation, some interesting and some that make me want to walk over to scream 'Please stop talking you are sucking the intelligence out of the room, but in a place where resource materials and caffeine are a plenty. Why not move? You might be asking yourself...”Well, how did I get here” sorry. Talking Heads popped into my brain. I would love to move, but I can't think of a place that would help and I really to make sure Kelly has the time she needs to work through/on whatever she has in her head.
 

Ok, enough frustration showing it self as self pity. I need to do something drastic like...oooh look...mocha's for a discount...nom nom nom.



A film, an experience, and more
mcdougherty, mike dougherty
mcdougherty
It's been a while since I've posted, but I'm feeling the need to pick this ol' girl back up again.

After seeing "behind the curtain" a bit at San Diego Comic Con I've realized I've been holding myself back a bit. Time for that to change.  

I am ready for some fun...are you?
mcdougherty, mike dougherty
mcdougherty


Thanks to Chris Brogan's "Are You Ready for Fun" post on his website, I've taken five minutes and really got a shot in the arm. I'll admit to being completely stuck in my own head. I'm going to ask you to do the same. Just take a five minites and really give this video some time.



I took some time and wrote down each of the Eight Principles and am currently trying to find a way to make that a strategy for 2010.

What do you take away from this?



238 days till Browncoats: Redemption releases at Dragon*Con
mcdougherty, mike dougherty
mcdougherty
Things are getting pretty intense, for me at least, because the film will be done and released 238 days from today. I'm not counting, but it's really 237 days 5 hours and 36 minutes at the time of this post.

How do you ramp up for the end of things?

?

Log in

No account? Create an account