My new piece pretty much sucks

Just back from class. Ok, I am totes not happy with my piece. Like, at all. But we are at week 4 already and I don't know how to change it without starting over or taking it in a different direction. This piece feels too forced. It's like I am trying too hard to make jokes about the rape and not say how I really felt about the whole ordeal at the inspector's office: scared shitless. But to be honest and vulnerable would completely change the tone of the piece. I think? Plus I get freaked out that if I choose to take this tone, the audience will see me as a fucked-up, attention-seeking victim. Which I am not. Plus my onstage physicality. Ugh, so disorganized. Martha doesn't really give much direction in this arena so I am just bumbling along, trying to come up with movement that fits but isn't too influenced from my previous mentor, who BTW, I am still NOT talking to!!

Solo Performance, summer intensive

I signed up again. Rape performance dabbling, part II. This time we have only six weeks (holy balls!) to put together a 15-20 minute show. Last time I performed about the do-it-yourself search for the house where I was allegedly. This time I'm gonna perform the conversations and meetings I had with the inspector at the sex crimes unit.
Today was the first day of class. Again, five girls, 1 bro. I more outspoken since I knew Martha and the format of the class. Still, though, it's uncomfortable telling people, "oh hey, yeah, I was raped. You go ahead and perform about your relationship problems, your family issues, your love of kung fu, you know, normal things, and I'll just be tackling the big R in 15 minutes. No bigs."
Met a cool fellow performer. Vanessa Alabarces. Puerto-Rican/Cuban. Fellow brownie! I started to jokingly diss her in class about something and she turned to me, looked me straight in the eye and said, "I don't appreciate you interrupting with your hasty conclusions about me." I felt embarrassed for a second but mostly thought, looks like this girl and I are going to be good friends. Again, everyone was shocked at how my rape had been handled by the SFPD.

"Bay to Rapers", 1 year anniversary

I fled the SF today. Well, almost. I stayed at my friends last night and planned to meet her at my aunt's timeshare in Napa. But in order to get there I had to go through the city. I took the backroads, certain that I wouldn't cross any stragglers from the race.
Fail.
In front of me, a neon dressed group drunkedly stumbling along a street corner. One of the girls was barfing. Two guys nearly walked into oncoming traffic. My vision completely blanked. I pulled over to the curb, gasping for breath. inhale, exhale. 10 minutes passed and I was able to drive again. I made it to Napa. I didn't tell my friend about what happened. I felt ashamed that I would be having this type of reaction.
It's been a year. My rape kit is still on a shelf. The suspect could have targeted another victim today. I watched a movie with my friend in a napa timeshare suite but I honestly don't remember what it was. I kept spacing out and re-entering the fragments of this day a year ago.
I feel Numb.
and Blank.
Blank like those first three seconds
when you wake in the morning,
when absolutely nothing fills your mind.
I talked with my friend about blah blah blah and her family while eating organic chicken and mashed potatoes in the bouge restaurant.
Hours later, after she fell asleep, I started shaking in my bed.

Busback Flash

This evening I was driving back from the city. I entered the tunnel right before the golden gate bridge and switched lanes. I was behind a bus. The bus back read in fluorescent green lettering Bay to Breakers 2011. Before I even finished reading, I spontaneously vomited all over myself and swerved into the next lane. So gross! I pulled off at the vista lookout and opened my door just in time to vomit again. oh joy. I tore off all my clothes and mopped up the vomit on my seat and steering wheel. I sat in my car in my bra and underwear and blasted the heat, completely hazed out, watching tourists come and take night photos of the cityscape. Omg, will this shit ever go away?

Post Show *%@**&

Ok so I think that I did a solid job performing. For only 8 weeks of prep time. The house was full. I closed the show. The audience clapped for a long time. I had a dozen or so friends come to support including a past mentor and close friend of mine whose style of performance has influenced me a lot. I used a lot of physicality in my show which I had learned to do in her class. After the show, all my friends were coming up to me, hugging me, congratulating me and telling me how strongly I had performed. When my mentor approached me she didn't look me in the eye, barely hugged me, said "we should talk", and then left. I burst into tears on the spot.
Today, I told her I needed space and to not contact me. She wrote back all confused and upset. I pressed delete. I am hurt and pissed. This was my first time performing a very unfinished, very new piece on a very difficult subject matter. You don't treat someone coldly like the way she treated me right after they perform. I feel very re-traumatized. I cried in my bed all afternoon. It should have been a very healing, successful evening for me. I don't want her in my life at the moment. I'm trying to focus on the positive things.

Pre-show fretting

Holy balls. I can't believe I am performing in two weeks on this subject material. It's sort of surreal. People don't perform about rape. Let alone joke about it like I am planning to do in my performance. omg. omg. Maybe I am totally cray-cray. But Martha and the rest of the class think the piece is really strong so I have to forge ahead. My main concern is that people will think it's my fault and that I am a victim who is just messed up. Or an angry man hating bitch who is using her audience to cathart and rage. But I am an artist and I am trying to make good art. My subject matter just happens to be rape.

Starting a solo performance class

I have been trying to figure out the best way to go about creating a performance for my piece. I had seen a one-woman show a few months back called, I heart Hamas, by Jennifer Jajeh. I thought her show was interesting and followed the thread of where she had developed her piece. I signed up for an 8 week Solo Performance Workshop with Martha Rynberg immediately.
The class meetings are at Stagewerxs, a basement community theater right off of Union Square. Today we all met for the first time; five women, one man and Martha. We had to take the stage individually to talk about what we were interested in performing about. This was the first time I had talked about my rape to strangers. My classmates were all shocked, appalled, and intrigued with how my case had been handled by the SFPD. Martha gave me my homework: to come up with just one part of the whole story that I wanted to tell because I only had 20 minutes on stage.