...and this may veer off the road uncontrollably, but I gotta do this.
No links, no humor. This is my diary. I'm writing the next chapter.
I don't know where to begin, so I'll begin at the inane.
Friday night, I took my nephew to go see "Green Day's American Idiot." It is not the greatest show ever. I'm not even sure it's great. I like it, but I could find a lot of flaws in it. I'm not here to review the show. I'm here to talk about why this event is significant. I took Josh to see the show because I'd seen it before, and I thought he would enjoy it. He had been listening to the album for a while, and I figured it was a good way to spend some time with him.
When I saw the show the first time, I went home and bought the soundtrack for the show. I started listening to it. I enjoyed it. As with any other music, I found myself singing along. As I'm an actor, I found myself starting to "act" while singing along. That's when something happened. And now we get to why I'm writing this.
I came home one night and told my wife that I could no longer relate to music. That I could sing along, but that I was just faking it. I should have seen a red flag. As an actor, my philosophy has always been that I'm just play acting. Still, somewhere, I have to be able to relate to what I'm saying, and I have to find those emotions and bring them to the audience.
"I can't relate to music anymore."
Unreal. Music touches my soul in ways that I cannot describe. I can hear the pick scraping the string of a guitar. I can hear the layers upon layers of background noise embedded in most songs. I can pick up the subtle fills that bass players throw in, and the often subtle strummings of a good rhythm guitar player. Yet, in this moment, I couldn't relate to it any more.
And that's where it started.
I had a very traumatic, self-imposed event happen at my job that I'm not getting into here, but for which I was suspended. It snapped me back into line. It made me stop and look at myself. Most importantly, it made me realize that the reason behind this event was something that I could no longer be party to, and that the disease behind it needed to be treated.
I started therapy.
Again.
Again, I probably don't need to get into the details publicly. These are changes that I just need to make and let the chips fall where they may.
The public part of this is this: I have become, over the past several years, a punchline.
This idea of Randyville or Randystage, or whatever you want to call it...it doesn't work for who I am. Not the real me. The bravado, cocky, arrogant guy? Yeah, that's not real. You probably already know that. There's part of me that is him, but the greater part is a scared, cowering child who can't let anyone see the truth, or he's convinced they will abandon me.
So. This event that happened at work? It happened the day of callbacks for "Full Circle." Lots of other stuff happened as a result of that event, none of which I'm getting into today, but let's just say that things haven't been that great.
As you probably know if you're reading this, I was cast in "Full Circle." The character I was playing, and the tact the director took required me to abandon the idea of "play acting" and to, you know, FIND IT. Based on the reactions I got from people, and from my own haze while performing, I guess I found it. I didn't do this for glory. I didn't do what I did to show off. I did what I did because that's what was required of an actor. Any actor.
I'm veering.
I'm not sure where I'm going with this, short of saying that the Randy Knott that has existed for too many years now had to go. It became obvious during "A Little Night Music," when comments about my arrogance and ego, which were constant (especially from yours truly), finally started to hurt. When it was obvious that I was just a punchline.
How had I allowed myself to become that? I care deeply about people. I always have. I do an absolutely horrific job of showing it. Probably because, again, I'm afraid of getting hurt. How to combat that: make myself appear invulnerable. Well. I'm not. Being a punchline sucks. Yeah, I did that to myself, so don't feel sorry for me, but it sucks.
I'm doing everything I can manage to do to not be the punchline any more.
I hope it's not too late.
For those whom I may have hurt while shielding myself (if there are any), I'm sorry. I wish I had been honest enough to let you know how much I valued you.
So. Fashionable I guess to write this down. Perhaps there's a little of the old Randy present in making this public. Perhaps not. I don't know. Like I said, this is my diary. If nothing else, I will re-read this and judge myself with it.
Thank you for reading this.
