Anti-Social: Taming of the Shrew

Saturday, April 9, 2011. This was our third performance day for Shakespeare's Taming of the Shrew, and the entire cast and crew were excited for audiences. On this particular day, we had both Photo Call and a respondent coming to the show, thus resulting in a very long, hectic day. Michael, our director, had decided long before that photo call would happen before the performance, which makes total sense. Who wants to undress, listen to the respondents, then dress back into layers of thick, sweaty fabric? No, thank you.

Nevertheless, this meant that I was there from 2.20 PM until a little before 11.00 PM. This is over eight hours with about twenty other people.

I am someone who cannot stand being around one person for more than an hour, so imagine 8 hours with twenty times that. I was freaking out before the whole deal even started.

I got there at my call time and sat down to do my make-up. My stomach was churning in anticipated dread, though I tried my best to keep a brave face. You see, I have been having panic attacks since September [another topic for another day], and all the precursors and stimulants were hinting to another. I calmly put my make-up on, spritzed, and went upstairs to dun my costume. I had asked Rachel earlier to check where we were starting, since I have a costume change halfway through the show. She came back to say that it was the second act, so I came back down dressed as the Merchant instead of the servant. We all met onstage, and Hannah, our stage manager, told us that we would do Kate's beginning scene from Act 2, then we would start from the top of the play. Tears jumped into my eyes, and I did what I shouldn't have.

I questioned my stage manager. Instead of sucking it up and going back to change, I was disrespectful and told her that I was told the opposite. Michael reiterated that we were, in fact, going from the top of the play, and I turned back to change in a darker mood.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," I thought, reminding myself that these were people who might not be sympathetic to any breakdowns I would have. I changed, we did the photo call, and then changed back to street clothes for dinner. I sat in the corner, reading my book, hoping that people would take this as a sign that I couldn't be bothered. Deanna and Alanna came over to ask me if I wanted coffee, and I declined out of lack of funds. They were kind enough to bring me a cup, anyway. Ben Vawter came over, asked if I was in my "Annaliese" mode. I didn't even say a word, just looked at him until he left me alone. I probably could have been a little kinder in rebuffing him, but I wasn't.

At 5.30, we were told to change back into our costume and to retouch make-up. I quickly ran outside for a smoke, passing Michael on my way back in.

At 6.15, we had warm-ups, fight call, and then we gathered to pray. In this circle, holding hands, Ben at my left and Alanna on my right, giving thanks and praise to God, I realized how lonely I was. That even though there was plenty for me to be thankful for, I didn't feel thankful. I felt nothing but bitterness, tiredness, hopelessness. I felt empty, something that I shouldn't have been feeling as God's child. I stepped out of the circle, joining Ben's and Alanna's hands together. I went upstairs to the Sound Room, locked the door, kept the light off, and wept. I tried to be quiet, hoping the sound wouldn't travel. For the next twenty minutes, I sat by myself, in the dark, without friends and without God, wallowing in self-pity.

Not my proudest moment. But it reminded me that I had no one to turn to but myself. In a crowd, I had no one. This is probably why I am doubting many things in my life right now.

I cried twice that night. Both times, I went off into the dark. Both times, I returned unwillingly to society. Life is beginning to take it's toll on me. My eyes, the indicator of my emotions, look tired and sad in all pictures, as if I haven't slept. People ask if I am tired, and I answer "Yes". It is true. Though I have slept enough, my soul is slowly taking over my body, and no amount of sleep can ever satisfy how tired it is.

Maybe one day, I won't have to wake up to satisfy it.