Three months ago I decided to do something I've never done before: I took a break from the stage.
I had been going strong for almost a year, and then my last show happened. While I was pouring months of blood and sweat into it night after night, I found myself being utterly detached from the experience. I was keeping to myself more than usual, I felt my socialization was scarce, I was annoyed by the slightest of things, and I was merely showing up not out of my love and passion for the craft but because I had a job to fulfill to the end of my signed agreement. There were other factors to this change in me, but I knew overall something was off.
I was prepared after finishing the show to go right into filming a series of tapes for future use, but I lacked the motivation to get into it. I talked these feelings over with my family and my therapist, and came to the decision to take some time off from any work relating to my career. It yielded mixed results mainly because of other life factors, but in the end it was the right call. Right now I'm slowly working to get back in the game, and there's more of a want to work, experiment, and repeat, so I must've done something right in that time off.
I've been reflecting upon my time off, and I know there are countless other performers out there who have went through something similar to what I did. I'd like to share this moment of my life in the hopes that it is seen by others in the community, and shows them that it's okay to stop and reset, to still love what they do, and to go through the motions in a healthy and supported manner. My hope is someone sees this and that it brings some peace of mind to their artistic lobes. But I'll leave that up to chance and let the reflecting begin.
Priorities and Wants
I guess the first thing that came out of my time off was the alignment of my priorities as an artist. Doing "Judgment At Nuremberg" was a worthwhile experience and a story I'm proud and honored to have been a part of telling, but I went down a rabbit hole of horrifying research and character mind-frame setup that put me in a really dark place full of major self-doubt and extreme pressure to deliver a performance worthy and thoughtful for the memory of those who went through the worst atrocity humankind could ever commit. It was a new experience for me working on a piece about one of the worst moments in history, and I should've been more careful in how I went about in preparing for it. We're told as artists to prioritize our mental wellbeing, which I thought I was doing properly for the last few years, but this show revealed that wasn't exactly the case
As much as I want to prioritize giving a well-rounded performance at 100% or more, as well as the work I do in crafting said performance, my own true mental health needs have to be a top priority from here on out. From working with my therapist, I believe the best way to go about with knowing when to give your mind some extra love is to acknowledge when the supposed spiral is beginning so as to catch yourself before making it worse and to step away from the work for an appropriate period of time. It could be a few hours or maybe a day, but don't step away from it for longer than two days so as to not lose momentum in creating. I've found times doing something simple like going for a walk or numbing my mind with something ridiculous on YouTube (SNL recommended) or SpongeBob has had healing effects on my brain. Find whatever your "mind number" is (I don't mean drugs or alcohol) and I'm certain it'll produce unprecedented effects. Find that little thing that makes you happy because it'll help bring you a little closer to that big picture in the end.
My wants as an performer were also something that came into focus for me during this time frame, which led to some slight reevaluation . I've always said I want to work on new and/or existing pieces that address topics surrounding mental health, and I still wish to do that. But I can't make it my entire career trajectory. If I make it just that, then it limits me. I've loved the comedies, both straight plays and musicals, I've done thus far, and I want to keep at it with them for a long time. If anything, I believe the comedic roles show more of who I am as an individual, allowing me to embrace the unique quirks I'm now proud to possess, and find an honest way to connect with audiences performance after performance. Of course I plan to do dramas still (there's a whole bucket list of them I'd want to do), but I know where I thrive as a performer, and playing to those strengths I believe will do more good than I thought when beginning. The dramas will come, but I want them to truly mean something to me to want to do them, and not just do them for the sake of doing because it "needs to be done," which I feel was the mind frame I was living by for years. The new mind frame will be a little more thoughtful now when deciding on projects, but not to the point of being picky.
In the end here, I not only want to keep the mental health conversation alive, but I also want to allow people to escape from and just have a laugh at our lives and the times we're in. After all, escapism and laughter go together in my opinion, and, from experience, really can heal one's mind and soul.
Beyond The Stage
Being off from performing also gave me the chance to do something I don't tend to focus on: my life beyond the stage, which isn't much if I'm being completely honest. I don't mean I don't have a life: I have friends, and I'm privy to a decent night out. But I really mean more of interests that aren't theatre or theatre-adjacent. I do have other interests and hobbies that I enjoy, so I'm not entirely a philistine. But finding another topic to become just as passionate about as the arts is an endeavor I never thought to take seriously until now, and, I won't lie, it's been hard.
I closed myself off to so many things after I got into theatre not just because I wasn't interested, but because of how my brain was, and is, wired. But that discovery didn't happen 'til two years ago. Being on the spectrum may've brought some clarity to certain aspects of my life and thinking, but it wouldn't give me the answers to "what else?" I still don't have a concrete answer to the question two months later, and there are times I just don't want to think about it because I got other fish to fry with my career mapping. But lately I've been going out with a new friend who knows nothing about theatre, and what he's into/taking me to has allowed me to experiment with other possible interests. It's been a huge blessing for me to have a friend who pushes me out the door to stop focusing on my career alone 24/7. Plus, as an unexpected bonus, he's making it a point to loosen me up and not be so rigid and uncertain in the little things which is something I tend to need a reminder for often (I just hope he doesn't expect results over night).
There may be one viable interest that comes from a personal sentiment of mine that may be the second passion I'm looking for, but until I can find the time and means to do so, I can't say for certain just yet. Until then, the explorations continue, and that's okay with me.
Letting Go
One last thing I've been working on since this break is the idea 'letting go.' Not just letting go of negativity and unnecessary baggage, but letting go of things like the ballon of security as well as relationships that were important for a time, but have now run their course. I'll explain this better through two examples.
1. Security
The security balloon is what I would describe as a balloon filled with the things (jobs, activities, etc.) that keep you comfortable. But sometimes there comes a point when you start to lose the amour you had for what's filled inside the balloon and it comes time to let it go and move forward. But for some of us, including me, that's never easy.
I worked a job in retail, something I'd never done before until then, for two years. I was good at it, I enjoyed my coworkers, there was a wonderful understanding and support from the team on my theatrical endeavors, and the pay was solid for a part-time gig. It felt like a perfect relationship. But in the course of those two years, many things began to change. Managers came and went in the store, theatrical endeavors that required some more attention came up, and another part-time job I took began dominating my schedule more than the other. By the end of my time working here, my hours had been cut back drastically, with any word about other possible availability overlooked, and was bringing in under $100 at the end of each week. Of course I take some responsibility for this drastic change with my taking on another job and career pursuits. I knew deep down in the week before saying it out loud that I was ready to move on. But I couldn't admit it aloud. I had grown attached to my coworkers for one thing, but I was scared of the unknown.
I had struggled through many job interviews for four months before I landed this one. I was afraid to go back to square one and let the rejections bring me down like they did before. But I had another job outside of here; one that I liked a lot, and one that would provide me with what I was looking for: structure, steady income, and insurance. There was also more of a chance for growth here as well. So why hold on to what wasn't doing me any good anymore? It took me longer than I'm proud of to realize that, but if I didn't go into the unknown now, I knew I'd become unhappy and resentful over time, and no one on either side of this, including me, would want that. I put in my two weeks a day after coming to the conclusion. Of course, after taking on my other job in a full-time capacity, things changed. I was given less responsibility than I was when I started, and a majority of the time there I was doing nothing. To the job market I nervously went again. But this time, I landed a new job, with insurance, structure, and room for growth, on the first go-around in the hunt. I guess my lucked perked up, and now I start training for my new position in a week.
If I had held on to that security balloon with my previous job, I don't believe I'd be as content as I am now. I only hope the new job turns into something I enjoy and can keep up with for a good while as I navigate my main field. Only time will tell. But letting go of the work I was simply comfortable and not growing in is a decision I don't regret, and what I did learn from my time in the old I will continue to apply to the new however I can while adapting to some newer techniques. Onward and upward from this point on (but still being cautious).
2. Relationships
So now let's talk relationships. The example given here comes from a friend I had since college. We did a lot together in that time. Great conversation, great nights or days out, great hugs, what more could you ask? And then five years out of college, my friend decides to pack it up and move to the other side of the country. There was the promise of staying in touch when we parted ways the week of the move. Of course I believed it meant my friend taking initiative to make it work. I was the one doing the reaching out all the time, and aside from the time difference, responses seemed to come when it appeared convenient for my friend. I think I only did one or two FaceTimes during the first four months and there was always activity occurring on my friend's end that would be of some distraction, and other times there'd be no response at all for weeks. I decided to not reach out for a month and see what would happen. Not to my surprise, nothing came; not a text, not a call, not a nothing. I kept it up for another few months.
I guess I always thought my friend would eventually notice how silent I'd been and actually check in. But nothing came. After all we'd been through, after all I'd done to be of aid, after all the personal stuff we've shared between us, this was where we were at? This is how my friend valued valued our relationship? The one time my friend reached out voluntarily was to make a remark on this past year's award season, and not so much as a, "How are you? What's new?" I didn't want to dane to respond, but I'm too kind, and sent a quick response (to no reply, shocker). I might've had some hope for a flicker of a second, but it was all but fleeting. I held on to the hope longer than I'm proud of now, but I had to come to the realization my friend was living life and focused more on where life was at on the other side of the country. It's bittersweet to know this; we had good times that I'll remember 'til the end. But I can't put my life on hold to find ways to accommodate to what is convenient on my friend's end. I tend to do that a lot, and it's something I need to work on over time.
I'm only putting my eggs in the baskets of the friends who are here with me, and there's an equal balance of reciprocation on both sides (though I give exception of this rule to another friend who work's a major role in a major job). I don't wish my old friend ill; I hope life is coming along smoothly in my friend's new chapter. If the chance of reconnection should come, I'd lovingly welcome it. But for now, I'm putting my energy in my peers where it matters most.
That was a lot that came up for me in the very short few months I was off. So much of it was stuff I didn't expect to think on, some I did, and some was acknowledged in the past but decided to come to the surface now. I can only hope what I've taken away from this break will benefit me in the long run, and I hope anyone reading this can take something away from these points of discovery and realization. Oh how I wish the mind of a performer was relaxed and walked in a straight line, but that's not how it works (same for life).
It's okay to take a break from it all and recharge. If anything, it'll make you stronger and come back with a clear head and revamped drive to do what you love. Do the work, but pace yourself and get to know your mind while allowing yourself to grow in knowledge and skill, as well as recoupment. It will help you in the long run.
