bekah brunstetter
Bekah Brunstetter I care deeply. About a lot of things. Like really, really deep. Ow
playwright in brooklyn, NY

Actual Coping Mechanism

August 9th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

Amnesty international has issued a travel warning for those traveling to your country of residence / Kids are sobbing for their parents / your fertility shotz are making you want to rage and scream, or maybe it’s just the World? /  You’re behind on Everything / Well, most things / Your donations feel empty / where are they actually going? / is there enough money? Is there TOO much money? / Why does your Pastor drive a car that’s falling apart and yours gleams with excess? / QUICK BUY AN EARRING ORGANIZER AND SPEND A VERY VERY LONG TIME ARRANGING YOUR EARRINGS ONTO IT / GIVE YOURSELF A FALSE SENSATION OF STRUCTURE

AHHHHH THAT’S BETTER WAIT NO IT’S NOT

 

Posted in a lot, ha, the whole world, the worst, things that I Have, whining, worrying, YAY | No Comments »

Oklahoma; Okay

July 28th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

I’m sure you already know this because it is OBVIOUSLY HOUSEHOLD INFORMATION, but I’ll say it anyways:  Lynn Riggs was a part Cherokee playwright from Oklahoma, who wrote the play Green Grows the Lilacs, on which the Musical Oklahoma! is based.  In his Hollywood days, he was buds with Bette Davis Joan Crawford and often served as a ‘non romantic’ escort for them to Hollywood things, because he was gay, which wasn’t particularly Okay in OK in the 20s and 30s — and APPARENTLY IS ALSO NOT OKAY NOW. Some 60 years after his death, a mural of his face went up on the side of Tulsa’s Equality building — and somebody vandalized it with the word ‘abomination.’ HOW DID THE COMMUNITY RESPOND, YOU ASK? With a reading Lynn’s poetry, by local playwrights, historians, LGBTQ community members. In 95 degree heat. Just to honor and stand by him. OKLAHOMA, OKAY!

Posted in awesome, the worst, the writing of drama plays, theater, where i want to live, YAY | No Comments »

What I need to Hear

July 8th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

Yesterday, a Sunday morning:

  • I wake up, feeling a need to go to church and be quiet and reflective and pray
  • I Go to church
  • Okay, yes, I get there a few minutes late, but I take my program humbly, receptively, sneak in through the back door
  • I WALK RIGHT IN MID-DEDICATION OF BABIES
  • (For the non-church going readers: this is when new parents bring their babies on stage and dedicate themselves, as parents, to raising their Baby in the church, and the pastor blesses the baby, and the baby pretends to answers questions and all of the childless mothers of Gilead in the sanctuary turn to brownie batter and melt out of their seats and die)
  • I consider TURNING THE OTHER WAY AND RUNNING OUT OF THE CHURCH, and being quite noisy about it on purpose, maybe slamming through some doors, so that everyone knows my pain, and then sits there, putting two and two together
  • I decide, instead, to quietly, respectfully take a seat towards the back and cry quietly, respectfully while the babies are dedicated
  • I Listen to the Pastor as he tells the congregation that this couple in particular prayed and prayed for their daughter Rose; that she was a gift, not an assumption
  • I realize how badly I needed to hear this
  • I sit there, quietly, hearing everything else I needed to hear

Posted in a lot, faith, ha, hmmmmm, the future, the making of babies, the whole world, the worst, whining, women | No Comments »

Crying while Talking

May 16th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

I AM FINE, I am moving, as they say, THROUGH the pain, never under or under, but — I’ve been doing a fair amount of Crying lately, a lot of it while Talking, and I HAVE SOME NOTES FOR MYSELF. When I try and talk while crying, my voice gets really high like a cartoon bell, like it’s being sucked back into my throat while I try and push the words out. The sadder the words make me, the higher my voice gets, and the further it disappears up my throat and out my ears, a raspy gummy bear begging not to be eaten. I want to cry while talking like they do on the TV.  Strong, composed, steady, a solid and controlled voice, with tears coming rhythmically one, two, three. I want to speak in full sentences while crying, I want to say profound things while crying, I want to win the SAG award for Crying While Talking, I want to keep talking through all of these tears.

Posted in a lot, the future, the making of babies, the worst, whining, women, words, YAY | No Comments »

Color Therapy (?)

May 13th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

My shirt is yellow, THEREFORE,  I will have a good day and a positive outlook and my dreams will come true and the worst case scenarios will only play out in my mind and fertile unicorns will shit rainbows of optimism and fresh babies on my head (?)/ GOOD THING I AM NOT WEARING BLACK (?)

Posted in a lot, optimism, sucking, the future, the making of babies, the worst, what i am NOT wearing, what I'm wearing, whining | No Comments »

Path to Healing

May 9th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

I can’t meditate for more than 3 minutes without getting distracted, and the few times I’ve done acupuncture I’ve just laid there watching the clock and wondering things like ‘Am I healing? Is it happening? What’re we doing right now?’  and last night after my D&C I had an entire bag of Haribo gummies and ice cream for dinner.  I am no Earth Mother or Mother of the Earth, I am not Zen or Chill, but RIGHT NOW I WILL USE THE WORDS ‘PATH TO HEALING,’ and boldly declare that going wide with our fertility struggles has comforted me beyond my greatest expectations. Last night, Haribo gummy cherries hanging out of my mouth, I read hundreds of messages received from friends and strangers, bold and honest messages about fertility struggles and successes. AND IT HAS GIVEN ME LIFE. Thank you to all who share and continue to share. Here was mine:

Last weekend, we had our second miscarriage. I know I’m supposed to tuck this away, share with just close family and friends, compartmentalize and get back to work, which I’ve done before. But this time, I’m sharing here to challenge any and all notions that getting pregnant is CHARMING AND ADORABLE AND JOYFUL AND WHIMSICAL, and only these. For us, and for so many other women and couples, it has been a nightmare. It’s long and stressful and expensive and painful and terrifying. I’ve met parts of myself I never knew, gross bits of rage and frustration and jealousy and sadness. My hope and faith have withered. But I’ve also been so moved by the women who have opened up to me about the absurdity and sometimes hilarity of their own losses and journeys. And I want to do anything I can to help remove any of guilt and shame that comes with this horrible yet INCREDIBLY REGULAR thing / 20 PERCENT OF PREGNANCIES END IN MISCARRIAGE / GRIEVING PEOPLE ARE ALL AROUND YOU / HI, I AM ONE OF THEM. I also share this here because I’m longing for any personal stories, things like I had five miscarriages and now my toddler keeps grabbing my phone out of my hand! And / or my uterus is made of construction paper and now it’s full of twins! Or even, I am going through this fucking bullshit too, would you like to get together and throw bottles of wine against a wall? Feel free to DM me. I’m grateful for anything anyone feels like sharing, but mostly grateful for Morrison, who is the most completely amazing partner that has ever lived.

Posted in a dream is a wish your heart makes, a lot, babies, sucking, the future, the making of babies, the whole world, the worst, wanting, what my friends are doing, women, words, worrying | No Comments »

REWRITE

May 6th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

SUGGESTED AMENDMENT TO THIS ANTHEM OF EMPOWERMENT THAT KEEPS CIRCLING MY HEAD:

WHAT DOESN’T KILL YOU MAKES YOU FEEL DEAD.

It’s like technically, you’re alive, but basically, you’re dead. Are you stronger? Maybe. But are you alive enough to act on or appreciate the strength? NOT REALLY / NOT YET. MAYBE TAKE A FEW DAYS TO BE DEAD.

Posted in a lot, the worst, worrying | No Comments »