Today was not one of my better days. Understatement.
For one, the sinus infection that's been plaguing me for over a week decided to steal my voice after a few days, and I've only gotten a little bit back. If this was a hostage situation, the amount of voice that I have back right now would be the equivalent of getting a hostage's finger mailed back to me or something.
With sliver 'o voice in tow, I dragged myself to an audition last night. An audition that meant a lot to me. An audition for a company I want to work with, for people I already work with in one way but want to work with acting-wise, too.
And I booooooombed it. I was too wrapped up in my weird chain-smoker with laryngitis voice, totally in my head, using a new monologue...It wasn't good. Then I proceeded to get into a mini-spat with The Dude over men and women in theatre, ending with "men have it better in theatre you stupid man who will always have more chances...Wait, that was mean, I'm sorry, let's hug now". Except we were at our respective homes, so I didn't get to give or receive a hug, I just sat in my bed feeling like an asshole.
Then this morning I had a discussion about my life with two very nice women, and at one point we talked about family. I mentioned how I've had to borrow money from my mom in the past, how it's something that makes me feel horrible and stressed because I know how horribly this country treats public school teachers when it comes to financial income, and then a thought that has clearly been rumbling around deep within me somewhere came to the surface:
"I wonder sometimes, if she ever regrets being so supportive of me."
That did it. I lost it. I lost all composure and about five gallons of water in front of people I had just met.
There's something simultaneously freeing and horrifying about ugly crying in front of people who have just met you. On one hand, you'll probably never see them again, and if you do, there's really nowhere to go but up, right? On the other hand, crying in front of strangers has to be the scariest damn thing because you're vulnerable to them from the get-go. It's pretty much wearing a bikini into the town square of a dangerous country and yelling "TOURIST BY HERSELF HERE!"
Also, I've noticed that in Boston, public crying really isn't as much of a "thing". When I lived in NYC, it was almost par for the course to see someone quietly crying on the train at least once a week. Having grown up here I know that it's not as common to air one's emotional laundry in public, and especially not cry...Any time the home team loses an important game being the exception. I just kept getting angrier and angrier with myself for crying, and of course, when I'm angry...I cry. So the tears kept coming.
By some sort of grace (okay, that word has no place in this post), I made it through the rest of the conversation with whatever was left of my dignity somewhat intact outwardly, but on the inside I knew. I just knew: I was in for a tearmageddon.
After this conversation, I made my way over to a Thai restaurant I frequent to grab lunch before a work meeting, where the "no voice/bad audition/mean to boyfriend/how will I ever repay my mom" demons followed me and I continued to quietly sob over my lunch, trying to excuse the tears with a weak smile and "whooo, spicy curry" at the server, who looked at me as if to say this is yellow curry and in no way spicy, but you're clearly crying in public so I'll just nod and smile and bring you more water. Then I continued up Boylston on a walk from Chinatown to my meeting across town, still crying and getting a little worried about my hydration levels. I made it through my work meeting okay and then teared up in front of a friend and coworker, then took the bus to rehearsal where I completely broke down and bawled in front of my director.
Here's the shocking thing: Nobody judged me for it. In fact, people either let me be or were completely supportive of me.
I should in no way be surprised. After all, I would never judge anyone crying in public and would be supportive if given the chance. But I hold myself to a higher standard, and was silently judging myself with each tear that fell from my eyes (if we're keeping count, about 3,984,902 judgments).
The strangers told me that I was inspiring for bucking comfort for passion when it came to my career path, my coworker totally saw where I was coming from and gave me support, my director talked to me for a good 45 minutes about everything and gave me wonderful advice.
At the end of the day, I have sore eyes, a seemingly unquenchable thirst, a remaining load of worries, but some comfort in the fact that I was able to be human in public and survived, and even came out a little better for it. I still wish I had a better audition, I still worry about money and have guilt from having to borrow when employers don't pay on time, I still am kind of at a career crossroads, but I know I'm not alone in having had a completely horrible couple of days where the waterworks were inevitable.
Oh, and after a piece of what was supposed to be some comfort food by way of pecan pie, I have also discovered that I might have developed a slight allergy to pecans. No, I'm not posting pictures. Just Google "pink inner tube" and you'll have a good idea of what my lips currently look like (because they weren't full enough already). The reaction is, of course, making me cry a little, but at least this time I got to have a little pie first.
