I made it through to the other side!
A couple of months ago, I went public with the fact that I was in the midst of a particularly bad bout of depression. I had been battling it for over a year and, as that time passed, things got darker and the voice of the demon in my ear grew louder.
I was bedridden a lot. It was hard to stand. My legs were like rubber bands. I couldn't focus enough to read a book, reading the same sentence over and over with no comprehension because my mind wasn't on what I was reading. I had no appetite. Sleep came only with pharmaceutical aid.
Miraculously, I didn't miss anything I was supposed to do. If I had a show to perform, I somehow found the strength to get in the shower, get dressed and make my way to the theater. I'd do the show. Sign copies of my books. Smile. Then go home and get back into bed, all the while wondering if I'd ever feel normal again.
I'm pleased to report that I'm through the dark time. I'm not all the way out quite yet, but I can see the sunlight shining warmer and brighter every day. I can wake up with a sense of gratitude instead of one of dread and foreboding. I can look forward to things and appreciate things and enjoy them again. I'm eating. I'm sleeping. I'm writing. I'm going to be okay.
“How,” you're probably asking. I did a few things.
Since I was able to get out of bed to work, I just made sure that I had things scheduled that I couldn't miss. I performed Not a Genuine Black Man and The Great American Sh*t Show with my pal Charlie Varon and, of course, I did the show on depression, The Waiting Period. Concerned friends and family told me not to do Waiting. They said that I was playing with fire as I recreated a bad bout of depression I suffered back in 2008. They warned me that it would pull me deeper into the darkness. I knew that people depended on those free performances in order to keep their own demons at bay. There was something about that knowledge that I was helping people that took away some of the molasses I felt like I was swimming in. It made me think about service to others. So, I doubled up on ways I could be of service from donating platelets at the Red Cross to emceeing galas and fundraisers to speaking to groups and organizations on topics including depression, suicide prevention and the inherent value of diversity in America today. Being of service to others made me get out of bed because I couldn't disappoint people who were counting on me.
The love of my family and friends as well as the hundreds of supportive cards, letters and emails I got from people also warmed my heart and helped the sun peek through. Especially the cards an elementary school class I'd never met made for me encouraging me to keep my chin up because, “You have us.” I tear up every time I think about that one.
Lastly, for my birthday (which fell on Easter Sunday this year) I got the cutest little Bichon puppy I've ever seen. I've only had her a few weeks and she's already the love of my life. It's hard to look at that cute little fluffy face without smiling.
Now that the light has driven out my demon, how about helping me and the Marsh to do the same for those who are still in the darkness? Any tax deductible contribution you can make to help us continue producing The Waiting Period free to the public would really be appreciated.
I will take anyone who donates $2500 or more to dinner with me at one of my favorite restaurants in in the East Bay or in San Francisco. Will you help us out?
Here's the link to our GoFundMe campaign that explains everything.
https://www.gofundme.com/5kp972-help-us-help-people-with-depression
Thanks so much for your kindness during a really difficult time. I couldn't have made it through without ya!
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