So this is 48?

Footnote: I'll be leaving the social media worlds of Facebook and Instagram soon, so get in touch with me here, via email or on BlueSky, Letterboxd or on Discord (the only three I'll sporadically touch base on).

So much can happen in the span of one year. Including having this website (the design of which I plan to change; it's been glitchy). Of course, I began writing more regularly before that back when I had more downtime at the day job and/or less to do in general. Being born on May 4th means a lot of folks saying “May the force be with you” to someone who is not that crazy about the Star Wars franchise outside of The Last Jedi and Empire Strikes Back. But before I begin with gratitude and mostly positive thoughts about entering a new year of life, there’s still the fact that I have mental health issues and probably always have since I was a kid who had no words to use such as anxiety, depression or impulsivity. 

I remember a while back sitting down and seeing two movies pretty close together that mirrored my experiences a little bit. One is definitely more intense, extreme and not representative of me, necessarily but it still affected me so deeply when it came to anxiety or moments of panic. Though both protagonists suffer from schizophrenia and have externalized outbursts of said intense expression, it didn’t matter. Ebert was right about cinema being the ultimate empathy machine because the films Take Shelter starring Michael Shannon and Keane with Damian Lewis spoke to me directly.

I didn’t necessarily have the same troubling thoughts or frantic actions they did: I wasn’t looking for my lost daughter or deciding to build a storm shelter with money I didn’t have. The specifics didn’t entirely matter, it was the experience of the films as a whole that got to me. Each character represented something significant that I wasn’t even fully aware of with one viewing: they lost control. They both have family history and likely a specific trigger that lead them to a period of dysfunction and disinhibition to where the symptoms became too impactful to ignore.

Recently, I was spending more money, dealing with my mom’s move to assisted living, nightmares or at night, hearing voices (not to an extreme and very sporadic). Though honestly, it’s been going on for the past couple of years on and off. Covid lockdown tapped into fear and self-loathing that actually caused me to spend way more on takeout and Grubhub than I’d care to admit, to where I became the unhealthiest I’d been since high school. Again, it’s easy to spend money on bad food, goofy t-shirts and physical media (Blu-Rays) when places like Facebook and Instagram are perpetually forcing ads that cater to your interests. That’s not to say I shouldn’t eat, wear shirts or even buy the occasional favorite film. 

But there came a time when I wasn’t really looking at how much or what I was neglecting as a result of hyper-focusing on the wrong things. I was maybe escaping too much, consuming too much content which includes podcasts. It was around the time I got to appear on Screen Drafts that I sensed a relapse of generalized anxiety disorder. Then on April 1st, 2026, I started crying uncontrollably for a lot of reasons. (No joke - that date will stick with me years from now). It was a combination of a lot: money, mom, relationships, friendships, not being entirely truthful.

I even broke down and got fast food for the first time in a while but it didn’t taste right. Though honestly, I am proud that I am eating better, losing weight and a lot of that has to do with new medicine, doctor support and learning that nothing good comes out of consuming an entire pizza. Honestly, my favorite foods have become omelets, salads and soups (preferably not canned) only because I likely wore out a love of pizza because during the big Covid scare, I’d say that was my drug of choice similar to how fast food in general was in high school.

I say all of this to come to terms but also writing is always how I have dealt with difficult circumstances. I’m slowly chipping away at a memoir that expands upon a lot of this. I vividly remember when a pharmacy prescribed me the wrong medicine after getting a spinal tap, and seeing what my dad wrote to the corporate headquarters of said pharmacy made me realize that my dad should’ve and could’ve been a great writer of non-fiction. In therapy, I said recently, something that made me tear up, that I would give anything to stumble upon a book at the library that I work at, written by him.

A memoir of his life so that I could know way more. I’m not about to have a child any time soon, but the idea of leaving behind words that I penned to explain what’s happened and how its affected me, really is an area of focus now to be proud of. That and a mental health documentary especially being inspired by Mental Filmness, a film festival my partner Sharon has put together and I could not be more proud of her for doing that.

Speaking of Sharon, she’s not only an inspirational figure but also the love of my life. I’ve written songs about people I’ve loved before, but I do think my best songs have been about her and for good reason. The idea of her not being in my life is certainly another paranoia that sets in late at night while she’s fast asleep. I think anxiety and depression are two forms of unfortunate mental time travel. Anxiety basically skips ahead and sees the worst happening, causing you to overthink and worry to the point of breathing too fast ("Sharon hates me, everyone thinks I am shit," - thoughts that have no basis in reality).

Depression jumps to the past and you sit with it deeply to where you can barely function, so shutting down feels like the best option. For me, they’ve always been at war with one another. As much as I want to believe that I have the Three Amigos within my soul: music, movies, writing, mental illness is my El Guapo. I have a plethora of memories that I wish I didn’t have as well as things I wish I hadn’t done, but it’s time to do the work, grow and learn from patterns and mistakes rather than just escape them entirely by watching Three Amigos for the 30th time. (Well watching any movie).

Originally I planned to put out a fun little bonus movie podcast today on my birthday since I have nearly every year in the past, with the help of friends Bill or Patrick, but instead, I’d like everyone to focus on my other passion and talent: music. When I was a young boy, my dad had an insane vinyl collection and a stereo he spent a lot on. My number one favorite thing to do (besides reading) was to sit in the basement listening to records on these giant oversized headphones and I made mix tape after mix tape. Okay, my gateway into loving music may have been Michael Jackson’s Thriller, The Beatles’ White Album and a lot of oldies in the form of 45s, but over time, I developed my own taste that I’d say is pretty diverse.

Then in high school, after trying at and sucking at sports, I picked up a guitar because of three individuals: Kurt Cobain, Matthew Sweet and Liz Phair. The next thing I knew I was in a rock band, who broke up after everyone went to college and I stayed behind doing two things I loved: working in a video store and recording solo music on a 4-track. Some things don’t change.

Yesterday, I was playing piano along to backing tracks I made of some of my favorite songs when it dawned on me that as much as I love movies, podcasting about movies, writing about movies, it just doesn’t compare to playing piano and guitar covers or recording my own songs. There’s a clear narrative of me: creative writing/reading was first, listening to/playing music was second, watching/making movies was third.

So perhaps the first two on that list of interests is taking priority to where I thought there has to be a reason why I don’t really care as much about seeing new movies as of late other than mental health reasons. Yes, I have a lot of work to do when it comes to addressing the past, the present, the future, but I think if I lost the ability to strum a guitar or play the keys, I wouldn’t be ‘me’ sortaspeak. It brings me back to that child who listened to his dad’s records for hours on end, only this time, I am playing along, not just listening.

In addition, if I couldn’t write this sentence that you’re reading right now. For me, analyzing film is sometimes challenging to where I either ramble or stare at a blank page, but there’s an instant connection to music that isn’t going anywhere. I’m happiest when I’m either with Sharon, the cats or getting to play a song. Don’t get me wrong, if Mulholland Drive was playing on the big screen today, I’d drop everything to see it again for the 30th time.

I just relish having the talent that may have been passed down a couple generations since my great-grandfather, Luis Burrego, played the violin and was a classical composer. He toured Europe once playing his instrument, and despite dying broke, he left this Earth happy. His two favorite things were a cup of black coffee and fresh French Bread. For me, the first thing I did this morning: a cup of coffee (with oat milk) and sourdough bread. Some things never change and we need to find the simple pleasures in life. 

So in conclusion and to make a long story short (too late), I have been in a dark place lately. But there is light to be found (someone once wrote that said light never goes out). If you’re ever experiencing suicidal thoughts, do reach out, get help, hell, email-me. I did an entire podcast on my suicide attempt and honestly, a second one could’ve happened again. Not because I actually wanted to die, but because my brain was betraying me and making me think I should. We are not our thoughts, and we have the ability to not give in to impulsivity. 

Live at Reed’s 2026, by Jim Laczkowski

8 track album

Jim LaczkowskiBandcamp New & Notable Feb 12, 2016

We are malleable creatures, capable of change and great things. It’s not easy to see right now because of who is in charge of the country and the fact that humanity is slipping into a collective depression or panic itself. But we still have each other and there is strength in numbers as our hearts grow older. I have to remind myself that I wrote a song that contains that lyric because I believe that to be true. In two years, I will likely reach an entire new decade which I would much rather look forward to than regret or dread. Happy birthday to me and thank you for reading my complicated, but hopeful thoughts. Yes, May the 4th be with me, but also, with you. Oh and of course, I would love if you listened to me play songs live from two months ago, if you have the time and interest. All the gratitude I can muster to you as a result of having read my words, listened to me or enjoy what I do <3