Image by NoName_13 from Pixabay
Last week, I had a panic attack before having a reading of a play I’ve been putting off for 2 years. Physically it felt like I was having a heart attack (again): shortness of breath, endless pit in my stomach, couldn’t eat, and just general wonkiness. 1/
I got home from work on a Friday (reading on Sunday) and slept til the morning of the next day. There was more edits I wanted to make to the play beforehand, but just couldn’t. Knowing I had to “just let it go,” I printed 15 copies of the 90 page script, did a Trader Joe’s run, and let things go 2/
with the advice of one of my most trusted collaborators, I’m so glad that I stuck to my gut and invited the voices I heard for each part because, even though it was a cold read, most of the initial choices were exactly how I envisioned while writing the play. 3/
A week later, I can breathe just fine, no palpitations, I’m eating better than normal (know when to say when), and most importantly, i’m at peace.
I’ve gotten through zoom, table, stage readings and productions, but this is the first time I’ve been affected by a work as this. I guess it means.. 4/
more to me than I had thought. It might not go anywhere, cuz that’s the world we live in with art, but knowing that I still care about this craft and have kept writing and challenging myself to new stories and processes truly means a lot! I’m glad this life as a storyteller chose me. Cheers!
I wrote the above as a Bluesky post (@consplayspace.bsky.social) so have no real idea if it will ever be seen. Hence, since it felt like a blog post…