Things have been busy for me. Most of my life is physical therapy (which has been saving my butt – and I was actually able to sit through auditions!), therapy appointments, psychiatrist appointments, neuro-opthalmology appointments, regular GP check-ins…
The rest of my life is the show I’m directing. It’s my directorial debut. I have assistant directed twice before with this group, and I have directed my own short one-act with them, but this is my first actual show.
Most of the time I don’t even feel the stress – I think ever since the vestibular issues hit hard in April, alters have been stepping in to take some of the stress, whether mental or physical. That’s nice and all, and I don’t mean to sound unappreciative, it’s just that with the bad, they also take the good.
It makes it difficult to focus, and I have a staff and a cast depending on me. Worse, it makes it hard for me to feel anything at all about what should be an exciting time in my life, finally getting to direct a show. I’ve been trying to savor this experience no matter what, because you never know when you’ll get this kind of an opportunity again, and you never know when you’ll have worked on your last show. I was hoping to feel something at all, but I’ve mostly been going along with what’s expected of me emotionally.
In therapy yesterday, we talked a bit about what does make me happy. And I sat there and tried to remember when happiness lasted. And there were some short bursts – like receiving my diploma and two minutes of feeling proud/happy/excited before there was just…nothingness. Stuff like that. It doesn’t last long.
Everything in my life falls into a “chore” category. Some chores are more enjoyable than others. Going to therapy is a chore. Writing is a chore. Painting is a chore. Theatre is a chore. Actual chores are fun (I adore cleaning). But everything is on this never-ending TO-DO list. And I just check them off as I go through life, not particularly feeling one way or another about them lately. I am probably not describing this well.