Flying Close to the Sun

A week ago, I could fly.

At least, that's how I felt. Like I could do anything. I had no limitations.

That's how good things have were going with grad school. That good.

I look at acting in a completely different way than I did when I got here. I've found a new level of connection, honesty, and focus on stage. And I'm incredibly proud of myself.

I met with my Acting Professor last Thursday, and he gave me nothing but encouragement. Nothing but positive comments. He said that I was using the techniques properly, and that I was helping my scene partners to do the same. He said, "Truth is contagious."

After our Acting Showing (which is somewhere between an Open Class and a Performance), people kept coming up to me and telling me I did a great job, and I felt like I had. The 2nd-Year Acting professor came up to me and said, "I like you" (which I understand to be a good thing). The head of the program said, "Really great work, Angela. Everyone, really. But particularly you." And one of the program's donors (not one of my sponsors) invited me and four of my classmates to dinner (I've heard that this donor doesn't hide the fact that she has favorites).

In our Acting class on Friday, we spent about 2 hours just talking about our (1-hour) showing. And my professor held up the two scenes I was in multiple times as examples of great work. And he said that audience members probably left the room thinking I was a "cunning actress" (of course, this was in the midst of a larger statement about how they misunderstand our technique, but I'm still hoarding it as a compliment).

Of course, none of you out in internet-land knew any of this, because I decided to post something from my drafts folder instead of a new post. I guess I kind of assumed the good stuff would continue and I'd post a happier post at a later date.

But then things left the happy place for awhile.

On Saturday, I was at an understudy rehearsal next to one of my classmates, The Pro. He started telling me that he and four other classmates (whom he referred to as "the fab five") were all thinking of dropping out of the program.

*bombshell*

I don't understand. I really don't. I thought everything was going so well. We were finally coming together as a class. We were doing great work. And they want to leave???

To be fair... Two people in my class were probably too young (emotionally, at least) to come to grad school. One person is clearly in the wrong program (he chose this one because it was the only one he got into that was free). One person REALLY needs therapy. And The Pro? Well, grad school in Acting probably wasn't the right decision for him. He's a song and dance man, and was getting consistent work in national tours of musicals. (He actually almost left the program in September to be in the national tour of Legally Blonde: The Musical.)

I was shaken. I've been in class with 11 people all semester, and suddenly 5 might be leaving.

The Pro didn't show up to our musical theatre workshop the next day (which he'd been looking forward to all semester, for obvious reasons), and I knew that he was gone.

I sent him a text, and got a weird response. I ran out of the workshop on our first break to call him, and left a voicemail.

My social anxiety started in a major way. There were way too many people in that room (in reality, there were only 23). It was too loud. There was too much input. I felt like I couldn't breathe. I just had to get out of there.

So I ran out of the building when it was over. And I got in my car. And I just kept driving, and driving. And crying. And talking to myself. I was headed south. I didn't have anything to do on Monday until the evening (when I had to go to dinner with that donor), so I decided that if I had to, I'd drive all the way to Miami and just stay at a hotel for the night.

I started trying to work out why I was so upset about everything. I realized that part of it was the uncertainty. I'm great at talking myself into things. If I KNEW they were leaving, I could talk myself into thinking our ensemble would benefit from that. But I can't switch over to that opinion yet, in case they stay. If I KNEW they were staying, I'd convince myself that we're all in this together, and that we need every person to stay afloat. But I can't do that in case one of them leaves.

Digging deeper, I realized that I take them leaving as a personal failure. Like I haven't been open enough, caring enough, helpful enough. And maybe, on some level, I think they're leaving because they don't like me enough. I know that's irrational, but I do feel a sense of abandonment. And I need to acknowledge that emotion.

I ended up in a town I'd never heard of, and I got a call from Two-Shots-Up asking me if I was going to karaoke. I decided to turn the car around and meet her there.

I somehow got to the bar before she did. I sat in the back corner alone, wearing a hoodie and no makeup, and clearly in a bad mood. And guys kept coming up and trying to hit on me. I wanted to scream, "Excuse me, do I LOOK like I came here to get picked up?!"

Eventually Two-Shots-Up got there. She's one of the people who is thinking of leaving. We got into a heavy discussion (not really an argument, but close), and she left about 15 minutes after she got there. I got up to the mic after she left, belted a good angry song ("The Wreckoning", by Boomkat), and left to drive around some more.

I got home at 2:30am, and then cried hysterically to my roommate for awhile. She convinced me that they're not all going to leave just because The Pro did. And I believe her.

I broke down in tears when it was my turn to go in the Musical Theatre workshop. Mostly because I still haven't fully gotten over my fear of singing. But I think I was also releasing some of the other emotions I've had this week.

The Pro wrote me an email saying that he's officially leaving the program, and thanking me for my support. Hopefully I'll see him again before he moves.

Maybe I was flying too high. Maybe I got too confident. Maybe I ignored all the things I didn't want to see. Maybe I got too close to the sun. Maybe that's why I crashed so hard when people around me started spontaneously combusting.

I'm being dramatic. Only one person is gone. I'm still waiting to see what the others will do.

Despite all this, I need to look at the bright things. I need to keep looking at all the progress I've made, and see that the path ahead is sunny. I need to remember that just because things are changing, doesn't mean they're going bad. And I need to remember that I'm here for me. I'm here to make sure that I become the kind of actor that I want to be. And I need to do that regardless of who else is around.



May you watch where you're going.

~A~


P.S. In my mind, I have redubbed the people considering leaving as "The Flaky Four". The rest of us? "The Solid Six".
(ETA: This labeling is in response to The Pro calling people "The Fab Five"... it's not because I would mentally label people on my own.)