3, 2, 1, Boom.
My first day here, I went exploring the woods and a spider bit me on the nose. It left an impressive little red mark, crowning me as a little Rudolph for my first week. I touched base with a venue that I want to start a local showcase at but it's still up in the air. I caught a stomach flu this weekend that rendered me extremely ill and left me stuck in the house on the days most of the mics are clustered onto here.
Ladies and gentlemen, I have landed, but I think I'm still a little motion sick. Eight days isn't really a long enough of time to tell how well I'm doing. I just got here, I haven't been particularly social, but that's never been my strong point. I've gone to two mics so far; the first one went well on stage but I didn't really talk to anyone, the second one I was sick and left early for. So it goes, I guess.
Anxiety has a tendency to clutter my thoughts like goblins in an attic. The first one settles in there, disguised as a set of helping hands.
"You keep doing what you're doing," the knobby jointed, long eared goblin whispers, "I'll be up here, minding your progress. I'll let you know about what you need to focus on, keep track of how well you're doing so you don't get lazy."
Like a potentially great roommate, the goblin of anxiety moves in. He keeps me motivated to keep applying for work. He suggests casting a wide net, look for all sorts of opportunities. How exciting! He gives me a calendar of everything I need to be doing. Because it's such a big task to take care of, he invites a few other goblins he knows to delegate.
Goblins like Worry, and Doubt. God knows how many others that have started crawling around in the attic between my ears. All of a sudden they're opening boxes with my memories in them.
"Hey, did you ever take care of these fears of commitment you have?" One asks casually, staring at me with his dead little eyes, "I'm only asking because you moved across the country with Sweetboy and he'll probably want to know if you haven't."
"Have you made any plans for if this doesn't work out? You don't want to rely on going back to food service forever. If comedy is a dead end, what will you do at 40?" Another one asks as he spell checks my new resume. "Also, who is going to want to hire you if you're not going to be committed to their business? Seems counter intuitive, right?"
"You didn't move here for that kind of work though," another deceptive Goblin that I have come to listen to all too often asserts, "If you have no plans for your future, you won't be tied down, and that's what's important right? You need to be flexible so you can set up comedy. You've slept in cars before. It's not so bad."
I should interject here to say that it's not so bad, but it's murder on your joints, a fact my body has been quick to remind me of every time we camped this summer. But with all their voices, all my doubts and worries have become pretty loud. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe I should try and go home.
Then I wonder what the point of that would be, and a whole new generation of goblins is born. Does that mean I'm defeated? If I can't do so much as move, I really have no place in comedy, do I? I'm really not relatable enough, and I know I'm a tough sell to the average person already. What if the purpose of my life really is just to be a warning sign for someone else? What kind of retirement package comes with that, live under a bridge, working for answers?
Usually when I'm faced with really big life issues that I don't know how to solve I convert them into fairy tales. In this case, anxiety has taken up the face of goblins. Anxiety's different than fear in my world; fear is often useful. Anxiety is a greedy little horde that wants to move into your brain and take all your stuff.
So far as I know in the lore of goblins, there's not a whole bunch of ways to deal with them aside from reading from the bible, waiting them out or tricking them. For anxiety, a lot of conventional wisdom it seems to be breathing ,exercise, relaxation exercises. There's a lot written about CBT for it, though it's tough to implement when you're already questioning your thoughts. Nothing screams, "I'm doubting myself too much," like doubting your anxiety.
At some point, there's going to be some modicum of stability, and after that, I'll probably get bored. Who knows. There's still a lot of August to left unfold. I guess writing this is just catharsis. I didn't really have a reason to post anything, I just figured I'd sit down and write out something while I kill some time before yet another interview.
Like most things, the expectations I had for moving aren't really meshing with reality. I'm very nervous here. I didn't realize how much the routine, seeing the same people every day at mics made it easier for me to meet people and talk to them.
I had no idea that I'd be fighting myself this hard simply by moving. My general level of trust is extremely limited, but I've learned a lot of coping skills. I don't think a lot of people in Denver knew how hard it was for me to do certain things. Right now, it feels impossible. Then again, maybe that's the goblins talking.
Maybe I'm as strong as that person I thought myself to be. Hopefully I'll figure that shit out in less time than it takes this red mark on my nose to fade.
Hey, thanks again for reading. You're going to see this footer a lot, but I'm really fond of eating. If you like this blog, please share it with other people you might think will like it and if you've got a couple bucks donations are greatly appreciated. You can also follow me on twitter at @Kokadrille and OdDmosis' facebook page.
About A Blog
I'm a Denver Comedian, occasional cartoonist and person of interest to someone, probably. These articles are really too long.