Mid Campaign Anxieties

I registered lizmanashil.com a few weeks ago because I wanted to document the pre-production process of making our new movie (currently titled PLAN B). Since then, I've been swept up into Kickstarter land. However, the intensity of running a Kickstarter campaign is starting to get the better of me and I thought maybe this would be the day to write our second blog entry. 

There are so many things that run through my head each time I open up the Kickstarter page (which I open in conjunction with Facebook and email every morning). I think about my morning Facebook post, and, as crazy as it sounds, I deeply question the content. With every post. What is the least annoying way to ask for money? There's no answer to that. All ways are annoying. Once you accept that (I still haven't), you can probably let go a little bit. This anxiety snowballs as the day goes on. When should I post? Are people blocking me? Should I take a day off? What does it look like from the outside? From the inside it's one big old anxious mess and I worry they are one and the same. 

With our first film, we managed to gather so much support from strangers in addition to loved ones. Those strangers have become friends and, thankfully, are now Kickstarter backers yet again. However, we haven't really had any strangers contribute this time. It could be the fact that our video is not a puppet musical. It could be my weakness with outreach. It could be the state of crowdfunding at the moment. A friend of mine commented on our Kickstarter video lately and noted that our disclosure about not getting married is such a non-sequitor that it may be distracting people. His comment got in my head. Are we alienating people? Have we offended people with this weird claim that Sean and I are not getting married? Truth is, we may get married some day. It could even be tomorrow. I wrote that line in the video because I never want to have a wedding and I thought other people may understand that making this movie is what we see as the formal event of our 30s. That probably is't clear at all, and, to be honest, I kinda regret that it's in the video at all (if it's that big of an issue for viewers). 

As you can see, especially now, I take everything so personally. Every time someone donates, I burst into tears; If it's a dollar, if it's 100 dollars. If they don't donate, I genuinely wonder if they hate me. That's what Kickstarter has reduced me to, a paranoid pile of tears who misreads the world as one dimension. It's unhealthy and I cannot wait to be out from under the Kickstarter gun. I guess it's just that it feels that the stakes are tremendously high at the moment and because I care so much about making this movie, I feel very powerless sometimes. And that powerlessness turns into panic. So I kick and I scream and I try to yell out 'Look at me! Kickstarter' and then immediately feel guilty for the pleas for attention. It's a weird little vicious cycle that will probably continue for the next 24 days. 

Even in the midst of all this over-honestly described panic, I'm so incredibly grateful. I've run out of words to express my gratefulness. I've said it a few times, but it's a manic state. I run between joy and depression daily. I'm working on breathing exercises. I'm working on listening to showtunes and drinking juice. I cannot shake the conviction that we need to make this movie and that notion battles with all the anxieties that are prompted during a crowdfunding campaign. However, I just gotta keep swimming, right? 24 days, 24 days...