It has been 31 days since I last posted here. Part of that is because we were deep in tech week and then performances of Sweeney Todd, and then my requisite 2 weeks of decompression after a show ends.
Part of it is just that I have nothing new to say. I’ve been running and lifting weights and swimming and being with the girls all day every day, and there’s just not a whole lot to say about that. I should be celebrating this time; I know I should. But it’s just been wearing on me.
I got a nice break this weekend (in the form of a three-hour nap in a totally empty house), so that was helpful. And now I feel a lot better about Things.
But I do have to say this. What took me so long to get over this time in this show was not that the show itself was a horrible experience. The cast and crew were amazing. The performances were incredible, and it was great to be part of a show like that.
However, I will say that it was one of the top three unhappiest experiences theatrically of my entire lifetime. And that’s saying something: I’ve had some doozies. I’ve had directors yell at me because my knees popped when I knelt. I’ve had directors tell me that I’m going to ruin their show because I’m such a terrible actress (I’m not. I know this.). I’ve had directors who so very CLEARLY wanted the role I was playing that my head movements were carefully choreographed with my breathing. I’m not kidding. And I could go on, but I won’t.
But this was the first time that I have been reduced to feeling like I was seventeen again. This was the first time in almost 20 years that I have been treated like a talentless hack, like a person who has no business being on the stage.
And yet, somehow, through the grace of God and the miracles of live theatre, I didn’t singlehandedly ruin the show. Good thing.
But it’s a lesson I don’t have to be taught twice. I won’t appear on that stage again. Others, sure. But not that one.