Crippling Performance Anxiety
Posted: January 9th, 2012, 2:04 pm
I hate promoting myself, but I love attention, so I’ll just get the obvious traits out of the way: I am a mass of contradictions. I come from a New York Jewish family, although I was born and raised in the tiny Midwest. I grew up painfully shy and, while I was a punk rocker on the outside, I loved showtunes and R&B whenever no one was watching, always ashamed of it. I sang, but I never really had the voice I wanted. And, although I majored in serious acting and playwrighting throughout college and grad school in my mid-twenties, I had been singing and dancing for far longer, and just gravitated more toward writing and performing comedy overall. Hugely self-conscious my whole life; yet, when I had my first panic attack at a singing competition when I was 12, I maintained my musical theatre training despite being cripplingly nervous whenever I was asked to perform in public. This lasted for over a decade, yet I kept it a secret from my loved ones – sounds cliché, but there is a lot of proof. Photos, videos – you name it, most people I know have some document of me bombing on stage. This has not alleviated my severe anxiety. I have a much easier time articulating myself through writing, which is precisely why I spend so much time online (another change I resolve to enact soon), and why I’d never shared this information with anyone. At least, until I was in therapy.
I’ve always felt caught between two worlds: The extroverted, popular diva one I want to live in, and the weird, isolated writer one I’m stuck with; I’ve struggled with confidence, although my greatest love was always singing, my biggest talent was humor writing. My life changed when I turned twenty-seven and auditioned for a performing program. I got in – yet my panic only worsened. There, a music director suggested therapy as a positive step toward my goal. I’ve been in therapy for exactly a year and, even though it’s worked for me as far as reconciling the stage fright, I am nowhere near the confidence I want to achieve as a performer. At the same time, at almost 30 years old, I wonder if it’s too late for me to attempt what’s always been difficult for me to grasp – for example, I love improv the most out of all the art forms but have a hard time relaxing and paying attention. I always thought of myself as more of a writer than a performer, heck, everyone in my life does, and there are far too many days when I wish that this imbalance was tipped. Until recently, it was the only reason why I’d ever been suicidally depressed (in terms of thoughts, not actions): I wish I was a better actor than singer; I wish I was a better singer than writer, I’m not accepted by other, similar people in my peer group, ain’t gonna happen.
The “recent” drama? I haven’t told anyone outside of my therapist and my best friend. I’ve been attracted to men and women my whole life, with a deep, abiding personal feeling that it would be “wrong”: This is the biggest single separator between me now and who I wish I was. Thank goodness for the (relative) anonymity of message boards(?). Well, my username is that of my current T.V. crush: I’m a late bloomer sexually, having never really discovered if I am straight or gay. I was not comfortable having women friends as a result and creative, performer women? I was too jealous and competitive toward them to even work with them. Adding to this, I lost it recently watching a crap 90s movie OnDemand that dealt with the issue of bisexuality. Everyone – from my slightly homophobic parents to my lesbian best friend – knows me as being wildly outspoken about my boy-craziness. When I told my bestie, she had a feeling that I had secretly been bisexual or gay the whole time, though.
So, my fear of performing and acting for other people – especially with regard to singing – had almost nothing to do with how I feel about other people but, rather, how I feel a lot of deep-seated insecurity and guilt within myself. Though my family was well off financially, my father was an absentee and, adding to that, the two worst relationships I had with women were a bully (my sister) and a stage mom who always took the kid gloves off when any encouragement got disingenuous. I’ve antagonized girls: because being a musical performer who didn’t fit the ingénue or character actress mold made me bitter, jealous, and competitive; because now I’m in comedy, which is a much tougher field for women; and because I’ve secretly felt passionate about wanting to come off as a better person i.e. wanting to “chase” women who are uninterested in me. I have been actively trying to right the ship and know and love who I am. I'm so glad I stumbled on this podcast, as well as this virtual community of awesome people!
I signed up for a GLBTQ support group, my first (the only person I’ve told before I made this post is my lesbian best friend). I’m getting more into solo writing and performance as a way to ease into collaborating once again. Oh, and I have an amazing improv teacher who told me last week, “The sh*t-storm is never-ending.” I knew he was referring to life more than comedy. Words were never so true.
I’ve always felt caught between two worlds: The extroverted, popular diva one I want to live in, and the weird, isolated writer one I’m stuck with; I’ve struggled with confidence, although my greatest love was always singing, my biggest talent was humor writing. My life changed when I turned twenty-seven and auditioned for a performing program. I got in – yet my panic only worsened. There, a music director suggested therapy as a positive step toward my goal. I’ve been in therapy for exactly a year and, even though it’s worked for me as far as reconciling the stage fright, I am nowhere near the confidence I want to achieve as a performer. At the same time, at almost 30 years old, I wonder if it’s too late for me to attempt what’s always been difficult for me to grasp – for example, I love improv the most out of all the art forms but have a hard time relaxing and paying attention. I always thought of myself as more of a writer than a performer, heck, everyone in my life does, and there are far too many days when I wish that this imbalance was tipped. Until recently, it was the only reason why I’d ever been suicidally depressed (in terms of thoughts, not actions): I wish I was a better actor than singer; I wish I was a better singer than writer, I’m not accepted by other, similar people in my peer group, ain’t gonna happen.
The “recent” drama? I haven’t told anyone outside of my therapist and my best friend. I’ve been attracted to men and women my whole life, with a deep, abiding personal feeling that it would be “wrong”: This is the biggest single separator between me now and who I wish I was. Thank goodness for the (relative) anonymity of message boards(?). Well, my username is that of my current T.V. crush: I’m a late bloomer sexually, having never really discovered if I am straight or gay. I was not comfortable having women friends as a result and creative, performer women? I was too jealous and competitive toward them to even work with them. Adding to this, I lost it recently watching a crap 90s movie OnDemand that dealt with the issue of bisexuality. Everyone – from my slightly homophobic parents to my lesbian best friend – knows me as being wildly outspoken about my boy-craziness. When I told my bestie, she had a feeling that I had secretly been bisexual or gay the whole time, though.
So, my fear of performing and acting for other people – especially with regard to singing – had almost nothing to do with how I feel about other people but, rather, how I feel a lot of deep-seated insecurity and guilt within myself. Though my family was well off financially, my father was an absentee and, adding to that, the two worst relationships I had with women were a bully (my sister) and a stage mom who always took the kid gloves off when any encouragement got disingenuous. I’ve antagonized girls: because being a musical performer who didn’t fit the ingénue or character actress mold made me bitter, jealous, and competitive; because now I’m in comedy, which is a much tougher field for women; and because I’ve secretly felt passionate about wanting to come off as a better person i.e. wanting to “chase” women who are uninterested in me. I have been actively trying to right the ship and know and love who I am. I'm so glad I stumbled on this podcast, as well as this virtual community of awesome people!
I signed up for a GLBTQ support group, my first (the only person I’ve told before I made this post is my lesbian best friend). I’m getting more into solo writing and performance as a way to ease into collaborating once again. Oh, and I have an amazing improv teacher who told me last week, “The sh*t-storm is never-ending.” I knew he was referring to life more than comedy. Words were never so true.
