| what i got, what i'm not, who i am. |
[31 Mar 2012|11:11pm] |
This post has been a long time coming, one that I've been writing in my head for weeks. Maybe months. Realistically, ever since my hotel room got broken into. Since dark secrets started coming to light. I paid, or rather I had Bernie pay an obscene amount of money to keep things in the dark. Yes, I played into the blackmail, squashed the tell-all, got my phone back and the pictures and information off of most websites. Some people ask me why. Why did it matter? Well, I think there are some things better heard from me then a book and assuming I'm going to keep typing and then press post for this public entry I'm going to bring some things to light.
We all know my life has been anything but normal. Ever since Warren and I were toddlers our lives were splashed all over the covers of tabloids and then the Internet when the gossip websites really took off. For lack of a better way to say it, my life has always been fucked up. If I wasn't dating people more than 10 years older than me I was causing waves by going to McDonalds. Its been a challenge to keep my life private. If you know anything about me, you know hardly a day goes by that something isn't dragging me through the internet dirt.
I became a role model when I still needed one myself. Before I was even an adult I'd done plenty of things that could have landed me in jail despite my Disney contracts. I preached the importance of education while not pursuing anything beyond a GED for myself. When things started getting bad for me? I drowned the emotions with sex, drugs, alcohol or risky decisions like doing my own stunts on the set of Never, Never. I took off running full speed ahead when what I really needed to do was sit down and breathe. Be. If I had just taken a moment... then maybe I wouldn't here writing this. Yet here I am.
The haze of my adolescence and blur of the beginnings of adulthood were hiding problems that finally came to a head when I was robbed. Somewhere in my life, in that period where I was supposed to grow out of my insecurities and feel empowered by the fans I so adore ... I didn't. Maybe it was Lucian, maybe it was Disney, maybe it was Hellcats getting canceled, or maybe the years of depression that crawled just under my skin... there really is no telling. I became the girl I advised girls that looked up to me not to be. I'd go out and preach about inner beauty and confidence and being yourself and if I didn't head out to get completely wasted I'd go back to my hotel room and sob. I don't know how this happened. I wish I did.
Then, in that blur, I became obsessive over the things I ate, or how I worked out. For The Hunger Games I was asked to lose 10 pounds and tone up more than when I'd done Hellcats. I downloaded an app, I plugged in everything, I worked out for hours a day. After my room got robbed, I'd go out and people would yell about my weight. They'd say I looked better 5 or 10 pounds ago, which only made me work out harder. Yet when we went back to re-film some of the first scenes we filmed (The final interviews before the games) and I put on that gorgeous dress... I wasn't on stage for thirty seconds before Gary Ross was dragging me backstage and forcing me onto a scale. I hadn't lost 10 pounds... I'd lost 30. Gary was yelling at the stylists about not noticing this but how could they? We'd been filming scenes from the games in the weeks before that, most of my time was spent in bulky clothes. I was 101 pounds, almost a two digit weight and I couldn't see it. All I could think was five more pounds.
Sadly, it wasn't until recently that I realized the people yelling at me weren't calling me fat... they were calling me thin. When Travis came to join me in the aftermath he didn't say a word... but I could see it in his eyes. I'd let him down. I disappointed him. My mind convinced me he was better off leaving... but he didn't. He held my hand. When I fell apart he put me back together. When I wasn't strong enough to get myself help, Travis picked me up and carried me there every single day. When you love someone, that is what you do. For better or for worse.
The person helping me strongly suggested I write this post to get things off of my chest since I talked about writing something like this almost every time I visited. Please don't take this as an excuse, but more as my version of a tell-all. I'm deeply sorry for how I've let everyone down. I'm even more remorseful that all I have to offer is an apology for the poor decisions my depression has spawned. If you no longer feel I am an appropriate role model for your daughter I cannot say I blame you... nor would I blame you for using me as a cautionary tale. What I can promise everyone, though, is that I am getting help. I'm getting better. I'm doing it without being checked in anywhere. The Hunger Games will be the last project I complete or promote until I've gotten myself into a good place. For those of you who stand behind me, I ask for your patience and support during the rocky road I have ahead of me.
Finally, for my husband, the man who should have but did not give up on me... there are no words I can say to express my sorrow and anger at myself for what I've allowed myself to become. I know you will say that I haven't let you down and to me? That is just proof that our love is probably the most real thing in my life. I cannot thank you enough for not walking out the door when I offered you multiple outs. I will get through this, I will get better. As long as you are at my side I will find my footing again. I won't give up.
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[23 Mar 2012|06:56pm] |
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Happy Hunger Games.
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[15 Jan 2012|12:58am] |
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[16 Apr 2011|11:19pm] |
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