I think I've got it all together, work, home, my impending first master's course and the play and then I fell off the stage.
If you don't know me well, then you don't know that I'm not a sporty girl. One of the main reasons that I'm not sporty is that I don't like pain. And I'm one of those people who seems to attract projectile objects with my head. I'm not joking. So I avoid sports because I have great anxiety (not unfounded) about suffering some sort of pain as a result.
Taking you back to last rehearsal, I've just launched myself off the stage. I barely missed bashing my head, and instead save myself with my elbows. I'm sitting there in my own misery trying not to cry, trying not to blame anyone, and completely shocked that I allowed this to happen. Suddenly all the other lies I've been telling myself come tumbling down. I realize that I'm not sleeping. That I'm oscillating wildly between binging and starving. There are only 2 weeks til the first show and this is how it begins....the anxiety moves from my elbows to my bowels and seizes my throat. The panic begins in my brain and I can't think straight. I can barely hold it together enough to remember how to get home. {Aside: I'm not exaggerating. I was once in such a state after parent-teacher interviews that I couldn't remember how to back up the car, dinged it on two corners and then finally left it running in the middle of the parking garage and went to get Tim.} I remember that it is this anxiety that has prevented me from acting for the last 20 years and I am suddenly regretting ever beginning it in the first place.
I went home and iced it, took 2 Advil and lay down. The next day I showed to a few people, and their reaction was awe. It seems that my new bruise means that I'm cooler, that I'm taking a risk that few people would dare to try. So now it's my badge of honour: I got that bruise being on stage, not being behind the stage for the first time in 20 years.
Hope to see you there.
 |
| A portent? |
Taking you back to last rehearsal, I've just launched myself off the stage. I barely missed bashing my head, and instead save myself with my elbows. I'm sitting there in my own misery trying not to cry, trying not to blame anyone, and completely shocked that I allowed this to happen. Suddenly all the other lies I've been telling myself come tumbling down. I realize that I'm not sleeping. That I'm oscillating wildly between binging and starving. There are only 2 weeks til the first show and this is how it begins....the anxiety moves from my elbows to my bowels and seizes my throat. The panic begins in my brain and I can't think straight. I can barely hold it together enough to remember how to get home. {Aside: I'm not exaggerating. I was once in such a state after parent-teacher interviews that I couldn't remember how to back up the car, dinged it on two corners and then finally left it running in the middle of the parking garage and went to get Tim.} I remember that it is this anxiety that has prevented me from acting for the last 20 years and I am suddenly regretting ever beginning it in the first place.
I went home and iced it, took 2 Advil and lay down. The next day I showed to a few people, and their reaction was awe. It seems that my new bruise means that I'm cooler, that I'm taking a risk that few people would dare to try. So now it's my badge of honour: I got that bruise being on stage, not being behind the stage for the first time in 20 years.
Hope to see you there.
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