Day 97 - Spotlighted

 Spotlighted 

Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

Standing on stage, sweat dripping down, heart beating too quickly, cotton-mouthed, dry throat, blinking too much from the glare from the lights, Mitch wondered why he had ever wanted to be on stage in the first place. Once upon a time this had been fun – this attention, the challenge, rising to the occasion. Once this had been a dream full of promise and further expectations. Mitch had envisioned a bright future when riches seemed possible and fame seemed desirable. He didn’t think through the consequences, losing anonymity, the million sacrifices, the heart break and resilience necessary to pick himself up again and again. People don’t warn you. Even if they did, you wouldn’t believe them. You can know something is tough and rare and difficult, but until you try it yourself, you can’t really ever be prepared for how it will feel.

A dozen years ago Mitch had a sophomore who got a chance for a lead role in the school play when a senior broke his leg. Lots of people acted in school plays. Fewer kept getting cast in leads each year. Even fewer could find success in their local theater at the same time. And almost none got called to regional casting opportunities when movies were filming nearby and wanted local talent.

High School was a blessing. College seemed destined to be a continued trajectory. A few surprisingly successful YouTube videos and it seemed like his career path was set. Mitch had placed on a singing reality TV competition. He didn’t win, but he had made it towards the final rounds and had enough online buzz to catch on an was added to a couple of touring shows.

Suddenly Mitch had meetings to attend and managers to strategize with. There was a great debate about recording an album or trying to work his way up acting in indie films and building towards larger projects. There were at least a few people that thought the door was open enough and that Mitch had enough of the proverbial “it” to make a go of it. It seemed like a fun ride and Mitch had no objects. Enough things had come easy enough that this seemed like the natural extension of it.

Then the trembles began. At first Mitch was afraid he had developed some neurological disorder. Scared, he eventually went to a doctor and the tests began. One small relief simply revealed a different problem and Mitch began meeting regularly with a therapist.

Mitch started chewing his fingernails. He would fidget, touching each fingertip to his thumb before he could make a decision. He feared he was giving himself OCD. His anxieties grew and he began missing performances, unwilling to travel, or leave the hotel, let alone go out on stage.

Many experts were consulted. All sorts of solutions were offered. Mitch tried a regiment of supplements ranging from various Amino Acids, to St. John’s-wort, DHEA, 5-HTP and a half dozen other abbreviations he couldn’t keep straight. There was a sleep regiment, an experiment with red lights, and daily routines including set times for exercise, meals and naps.

Mitch was open to any suggestion, medical or otherwise. He would try yoga and meditation and acupuncture if someone had once had success with it. Someone suggested micro-dosing which led to many interesting evenings, but didn’t make him want to go out in front of an audience any more than before.

The world had opened before him, and he was systematically shutting each door. Chances people would kill for, once-in-a-lifetime moments, irreplaceable opportunities, and he was unable to accept them. Mitch was frightened to talk to anyone about it. He kept his family in the dark, telling them things were going well for him out on the west coast. He didn’t answer messages from high school or college friends. He was embarrassed, ashamed. Guilty that he had been given such chances, guilty that he was failing to live up to the moment.

Once he had done things for fun. Now there was nothing but pressure. He didn’t want to do it anymore. He didn’t want to be on another stage for as long as he lived. Panic, anxiety, fear, and shame had ruined his once upon a time dreams. Windows of opportunity shut quickly and seldom opened again. He was ready to slam it shut. Someone else could have it. A million and one people everyday were out there trying. It was theirs for the taking. Good riddance. Let them have it and the troubles that came with it. He wouldn’t miss it at all. He would go somewhere quiet. Somewhere with space, where he could be alone.

He told himself this lie over and over – that he would be okay, that he would have no regrets, that he would never miss it.

He was on stage. He was sweating. The lights were on. He couldn’t see the audience, but he knew they were there. Was it a dream or reality? All he had to do what open is mouth and make a sound. Or turn and walk off. Easy. One step would be enough and it would all be over. He took a deep breath, slowed his beating heart. Open his mouth or walk away. That was all. One simple act. Just one thing and he would know. Either way a door would close. Either way – even outcomes. It should have made it easy. He gulped and swallowed. It was time to decide.