Fame is Poisonous

What’s eating Amanda Bynes?

I didn’t actually know who she was until I saw one of her early movies. I think it was that one where she goes to London to find her father or something. I learned later that she’d had some kind of Nickelodeon show or whatever, but I thought she was pretty funny in the movie. She was all bubbly and thin and pretty. Then she made that one where she pretended to be a dude, and I liked that one, too. I’ll say it: I’m a fan of Amanda Bynes.

But I’m definitely not a fan of whatever is happening to her right now. If I had to take a guess, I’m gonna say she’s having a serious and complete breakdown. It’s pretty fucking sad, which makes it pretty fucking ridiculous that the media is using this to make her out to be some kind of high-school-cafeteria embarrassment. Like we’re all supposed to stand and point and stare and laugh.

And sure, some of the shit she’s said has been funny. Like when she announced to the world that she wanted Drake to “murder her vagina.” I even “LOL’d”, like the kids say. But it was a funny statement. I don’t think there’s any humour in this collapse of her entire being.

Mental illness has this monstrous, strobe-light stigma attached to it, where people seem to think it makes you less of a person, or someone is deserving of ridicule and shame and public scrutiny. I don’t know about the rest of the “perfect” world, but if I were to experience a nervous breakdown, I wouldn’t want it to be in front of the entire planet, as TMZ and rabid paparazzi snapped photos of my disintegration. And I bet money that the real Amanda Bynes, the one who’s still in there somewhere, is painfully ashamed of what’s happening to her right now. Imagine if it were you. How would you feel to have this kind of attention and contempt heaved on you? Absolutely, she asked for the attention. Her parents tossed her into show business at a very young age, hereby subjecting her to fame. And fame is a nasty bitch. No doubt the money and the free shit and the parties of that life are fun. But the fame part is something I would never want. Her privacy stopped existing the moment that very first director called “Action!”

We, as the peanut gallery, already watched this kind of collapse happen to Britney Spears. And her father still, to this day, has conservatorship over her. He decides on money, contracts, doctors, medicine. He basically decides what she does. And look at her now. She’s got a full head of hair, her children sit in their own car seats, and she’s put out a few new songs. I’m not a fan of her, but I’m still glad she made the 180.

Watching these girls go through this shit is like watching The Office. You know when Michael does something just so fucking dumb and you feel uncomfortable even watching it happen? That’s what this is. Except it’s real life. These people have to live with this for the rest of their lives. And I may not know Amanda personally, but I want her to have a life. It would be so fucking sad to read that this cloud hanging over her lately has killed her. I’m glad her parents have finally stepped in, even though I think it should have been done sooner, and I’m glad someone who loves her is finally taking the reins. Because that girl cannot steer her carriage for shit.

The way I see it, is what if it was me? What if it was my best friend? What would you do? Or what would you want for that person? For yourself? I’m pretty confident that you wouldn’t want complete and total destruction. And if you did, you should probably seek some psychiatric help for yourself.

One of the worst parts of this mental breakdown, is the physical toll it takes on a person. Because of what’s happening in her head, her body is taking a lot of hits. Suddenly this young woman with absolutely nothing wrong with her is believing she needs nose jobs and boobs jobs and endless other cosmetic surgeries. And what doctor is agreeing to do these surgeries? Unless he’s been living under a fucking rock, he obviously knows who she is and that she’s not well. What kind of person still jacks her up with anaesthetic and whips out the scalpel? A douche nozzle, that’s who. That doctor needs to give his (her?) head a fucking shake and start being part of a solution for this girl. That’s basically like seeing someone on fire and when they come up to you, you toss a balloon full of gasoline at them. Seriously. You’re a doctor. You went to school. I assume plastic surgeons still have to take the oath wherein they pledge to “first, do no harm.” And buddy, you’re inflicting some serious harm. And also, she doesn’t need anything done to her fucking face. Or her body. When I saw Amanda in that movie with Colin Firth, I thought she was beautiful, and I was jealous of her body, since I was saddled (haha, this is a funny first word choice because it makes me think of saddle bags) with the curves of my paternal grandmother while my older sister had the Amanda-Bynes body. I had a waist and hips by the time I was 12, and in my household where my sister and the woman who birthed me were Ally McBeal body doubles, this did not bear well for my self-esteem. It’s all good now. I mean sure, somedays I twist around to stare at my ass in the mirror and just glare at that fucking thing and shake my head. You bitch, I think about my ass. You just had to weasel your way into my DNA and not my sister’s. It’s fine though. Apparently the fellows enjoy having something to grab back there. And it does add a certain something to the figure, y’know?

Speaking of body image dysmorphia, and that’s exactly what Amanda has, everyone’s favourite dumbass had the same problem. Maybe even has. Lindsay Lohan went through a similar thing where she lost a bunch of body weight, although in the process she gained a deviated septum and a Hollywood sock. What is up with all of these Tinseltown bitches doing their weight in narcotics and then hopping behind the wheel? What the fuck, ladies! Get your shit together. Meaning use your mountains of cash to do yourself a favour and talk to someone about it. There’s no shame in therapy, no matter what anyone tells you. And the people that tell you that are probably the most fucked up of anyone you know. Everyone needs to talk shit out. Everyone.

Basically, I just want to send out some positive vibes to Amanda Bynes, because man, the girl needs some. No matter how much you enjoy hopping online and reading about her demise, she’s still a human being, and the real her is still in there somewhere, and she needs help. She doesn’t need the media fuelling this fire that is her life. Hopefully the judge who decides about this conservatorship isn’t the same moron who let her DUIs slide. Because while we’re on the topic of DUIs and celebrity dipshits, if Lindsay Lohan or Paris Hilton or Amanda Bynes were black, they’d all be in jail. Still. I mean, for fuck’s sake, Wesley Snipes went away for years for what, tax evasion? And Lil’ Kim was locked up for perjury and conspiracy. These assholes are driving around loaded, endangering the lives of everyone they pass, and they’re getting slapped on the wrists because they’re famous and they have money. Girl, I could do a lot more good with that money than you are. You’re all supposed to be role models and you’re just flying off the rails. And snorting them.

I wish these people knew that life can be a lot better than it is, when you’re feeling like you’re in a hole. You have the money and the option to get some actual help, and the people who love you are more often than not sitting on the sidelines watching you flounder. If their families love them, they’d step in and do whatever it took to help them.

Amanda’s done some fuck-ups, and she’s done some wrongs, but she’s still herself. Somewhere inside, she’s still there. And I’m pretty sure that Amanda would want someone to toss her a fuckin’ life jacket or something.

Much love, girl. Hope you get some help and find your sea legs.

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