Hello! It’s me again. Giving my tuppence before anyone has asked for it. What can you do? I’m just a pain in the arse like that. You’re welcome. I’ve actually started a couple of blog posts over the last few weeks, which I haven’t got round to finishing because I was distracted by work, or the summer, or the need to cyber-stalk David Mitchell and/or Ed Miliband, but I feel a pressing need to write this one, because there is something in the air at the moment. I can feel it.
Ok, that is a lie, I can’t ‘feel’ it, I don’t believe in that stuff. I know it, because in the last month, I have spoken to no fewer than 6 actors I know about it.
“WHAT IS THIS ‘IT’?!” I hear you cry
IT is The Fog. The Bad Place. IT is the room you walk into filled with the cloying, lingering smell of failure, and you can’t work out if it’s coming from you, or the person standing next to you. IT is the ticking of a clock which is getting faster and faster while you try to run to the top of an escalator which is going downwards. IT is the Progress Police standing outside your front door shouting into a megaphone to Give Up, because You’re Not Good Enough. IT is… well, it’s a fuckwit, basically.
Now, I do not know if people with self-esteem/anxiety/depression issues are drawn to the theatre industry, or if this industry creates those issues. It certainly doesn’t help them. There is only so much one person can take of being ignored, or being rejected, or (having got the job) reading reviews (by people not doing the job themselves) about how dreadful they were. For about 95% of actors, the majority of their professional lives are made up of those moments. And even when they get the audition, followed by the job, followed by glowing reviews… that crest of a wave is over within days, or weeks, or months. And then the unanswered job applications and unsuccessful auditions start again. And that huge adrenaline rush you had when you got that standing ovation 5 days earlier is long forgotten. And contrary to what you might think, we are not all a bunch of narcissists and consequently, it’s very difficult to reassure ourselves that we’re marvellous (there are some – I can think of at least three I know, and if you’re wondering if it’s YOU I’m referring to, I’m going to say most likely not…. if you *don’t* think it might be You…. Erm… I dunno…. you might want to check out your behavioural patterns. Just saying…). Conceit and Confidence are two very different things, but personally, I find it very hard to verbalise the latter without feeling it makes me come across as the first. And I see conceit as a weakness, but confidence as a strength. I think there is only one occasion on which I have said out loud to someone I didn’t know very well ‘I am a good actor’, and, Reader…. the memory of it still makes me cringe. You don’t hear Meryl Streep telling people she’s great… but Donald Trump never tires of telling people what huge hands he has…. In this, more than in any other profession I can think of, being good does not always result in success. So much of it is being in the right place at the right time, and hard work doesn’t always pay off. In some cases it does. But not always.
If you have read any of my posts before, you will know that this is NOT a self-help blog, because who the bloody hell am I to help anyone? I can barely keep myself afloat. Also – it is NOT an attempt at an Inspirational Post – I couldn’t inspire a vegan to avoid a steak tartare. However, a couple of people have very kindly told me that some of these posts have helped them. That just knowing other people share their struggles helps. Which has been lovely to hear, because often I press “Publish” and then think, “urgh, this whole venture is so revoltingly self indulgent”, but I find writing about it helps me, so frankly, who cares if it’s self-indulgent. Anyway – in the interest of sharing the misery (sharing is caring, isn’t it?), here are some things that this career path has made me experience more often than I likely would have done, if I’d stuck with something a bit more structured and sensible:
– I have felt like a failure;
– I have felt invisible;
– I have felt like a bad actor;
– I have felt ugly;
– I have felt like I’m wasting my life;
– I have felt alone;
– I have felt lost;
– I have felt useless;
– I have felt awkward;
– I have felt weak;
– I have felt not taken seriously;
– I have felt scared that I’ll die with nothing to show for my ‘X’ years on this planet, other than a vaguely funny Facebook Feed;
– I have felt like a disappointment to the people I love;
– I have felt undeserving of success;
– I have felt like I must be deluded;
– I have felt frustrated;
– I have felt rejected, and deflated;
– I have felt stupid;
– I have felt like people around me have life sorted and that I’m just a mess;
– I have felt all of the above and much, much more.
But…..
…. then I do a good audition, or I get into a rehearsal room, or someone comes up to me after a show and tells me they were moved, or I go to see an incredible play that has absolutely NOTHING to do with me* and I feel….. I can’t express what I feel. All I can say is that it does something to me that makes me forget all of the above. I feel full to bursting with joy, and inspiration, and something else, too… something I don’t know the word for. Something that I have only ever experienced in relation to theatre. I mean, I love film too, and TV can be incredible, but however much I love them, it’s not the same. Being in a theatre is like a religious experience for me. I don’t do religion. I’m a militant atheist, and have been since about the age of 7, but I would imagine that for those who are religious, that must be what it feels like. I have a friend (not an actor), who cannot believe that not all actors want to be famous, but it really does have NOTHING to do with fame. There are much easier, quicker ways to get famous. Fame is Nothing. That feeling is Everything.
So, if you are in the Bad Place, believe me, I know way too well that place of despair you feel like there’s no way out of, but if you, too, wish you could bottle that feeling you get when you’re working, or sitting in a dark theatre watching something truly incredible, you can get through this, because that feeling…. it’s like heroin – just so more-ish.
You can do this.
Say it out loud:
“I. CAN. DO. THIS. I AM A GOOD ACTOR.”
Now just check nobody heard you, because they’ll be calling the Loonie Bin if they did.
(Seriously though, You totally can.)
xxxx
*The Ferryman. You absolutely must kill for a ticket if you have to, it’s an astonishing piece of work. One of the best things I’ve ever seen, and I go to the theatre on average once a week.
This post was originally published as ‘The Anxious Actor”
My Name is Not Debbie 