A few years ago, I hit rock bottom. I was unjustly fired, broke, lonely, missing the city I loved and left and realized that I needed it and the people inside of it desperately. I wrote a blog about how oftentimes we hear stories of people who were at the absolute worst and then rose to be their absolute best. I used several examples at the time and wanted to add a new one that I love. Annie Murphy, who played Alexis Rose on Schitt’s Creek, tells the story of how she was about to give up on acting entirely when the audition for Alexis came along. Not only that but her house had actually burned down and she was broke. Now she’s an Emmy winner.

Many of you know that I lost my job earlier this year due to a massive restructuring. Then we all know what happened in February and March here in New York City and obviously the rest of the world. At first, it was a blessing in disguise (the layoff NOT the pandemic). I have written about how I was about to start auditioning again, my novel was going well, I was happy and healthy and in a place where jobs were plentiful and I was in final rounds for one mid March. It doesn’t need to be repeated how it all crashed and turned to ash around me.

It wears on you, being unemployed. It felt different than it had when I was in Vermont. There wasn’t a lot of jobs anytime in that little state and I could easily blame my struggle on low pay and lack of options. I still was sucked into a depression and my anxiety went on parade but it is nothing compared to these last 10 months.

I did well the first few months. Interviews came in waves. Rejections did as well and most of them were not surprising. Well known companies rejected me outright often and I knew they had hundreds of applicants. It was the interviews that chipped away at me. I had 20. I worked my ass off for all of them. Out of the 20, there are maybe 3 I could tell you why I didn’t get the job. The others I will never know. I started to doubt myself. Was it that I wasn’t good at the virtual interview and better in person? I doubted my experience and skills. I lacked in the analytics department and intense spreadsheets and formulas everyone was suddenly requiring. I felt stupid constantly and became angry, stressed, and frustrated. Every interview drained me more and more. I tried everything I could to get one and the worst part was, they aren’t even dream jobs. It isn’t like a role in a film or a book deal. It is a job that I maintain to keep the paychecks coming in and healthcare steady. I work best when I have a stable income creatively. I had never had trouble getting a job and here I was, begging for even the slightest part time gig. I started to sink.

Imposter syndrome with writing set it at the same time. I was reading books on writing novels, consuming writing on social media, and reading blogs and advice. I devoured it all and became sick with it. Suddenly, everything I wrote was garbage. I was a fool to think I could ever write an actual novel that anyone would think is good. I had no experience, no talent. I used the wrong outlines, the wrong plot points, wrong words and characters. I was a joke, a fraud, playing pretend that I could ever make myself successful with writing.

I had several self tape requests and an agent audition as well. Almost identical to writing, self doubt took over. I never got any bites from these tapes and normally, I’d brush it off after being disappointed but now I was convinced I suck. I’m untalented, I’ve stepped away for too long. I watched my peers get virtual readings, indie projects, concerts, etc. I am too behind, I’ll never catch up. Why did I think I was still a good actor? I haven’t flexed the muscle for auditions and now it has atrophied. I’m not viable, I’m old, I’m out of practice. I sank deeper.

I was exhausted, mentally drained, doubt raging in my head about everything I touched. I had opened the door and let the vampires in and they were sucking the blood out of me in the form of employment, writing, and acting.

Then I found some weird red spots on my skin. I was diagnosed with shingles, a virus common in folks 50 and older so not only was I sick but also I had aged 20 years. My body had caved so much under the stress, shingles had surfaced as a massive red flag. I started laughing when I received the diagnosis and then switched to sobbing almost instantly.

That same week, I had two second interviews with two separate companies. I was a shell of a person, attempting to bring all my energy to the interviews and keep it together for the 30 minutes I was on screen. NaNoWriMo had started and my writing was going well but the self doubt screamed in my ear constantly of why was I bothering. Acting once again is on the backburner as I just did not have the energy to seek out auditions or extra work again. I am tired even cooking dinner, how am I supposed to perform a cold read well? It was overwhelming and I sank deeper and deeper until I couldn’t get out of bed. I let myself sink and rest and cry.

I turned to ash.

And now she is….

I accepted an offer for a job that really wants me. It’s a young, scrappy company and everyone was delightful and I was offered the top of my range for my salary request. I received word that I am now a contributor of Sartorial Geek, a blog about all things geek culture. I will be paid per post (my first paid gig!) and be a part of a community I personally adore. My husband and I are both employed and the possibility to move into a bigger place is back on the table. We will have health insurance. My energy can shift back to creative projects with the anxiety and stress of employment gone. My second novel is going well and I’ve become a part of a writing community on Instagram that makes me feel supported and less of an imposter.

I crumbled to ash once again. I hit rock bottom once more and I know it won’t be my last rock bottom in my life. However, I also rose up again, a phoenix reborn. My broken parts sewn back together like a rag doll. It took my body literally shutting down for me to remember things fall apart. People fall apart. And then they get back up. Like the blog I wrote years ago, this is another part of my story where the good shit happens after the bad shit took over. Another success story, even in my small corner of the world. I may not have an Emmy yet, but at least I know it is possible to hit rock bottom more than once and bounce back.