When it comes to treating my depression and anxiety, I have been through it all: inpatient, outpatient, partial hospital programming, DBT (four times, I think?), CBT, ACT, medications, individual therapy, group therapy, and the list goes on. As far as I thought, my list of options was exhausted. I was now fairly stable for a long period of time, on a consistent medication regimen, and had "graduated" from both group and individual therapy. So when a day came several months ago at work when the waves of panic and anxiety knocked me off my feet and I fled in tears, questioning others' faith in my ability to do my job, I was terrified and devastated. This can't be happening again, I thought, I've done everything I can to get over this debilitating anxiety. I have nothing else to turn to. Finally in my dream job, I resolved to figure it out. Failure was not an option. It couldn't be. I couldn't lose all I had worked so hard for. I had come so far, and it felt like I was coming apart at the seams in an instant.
After spilling the whole story out to my sister, she gave me a ridiculous idea. At least at the time I thought she was nuts. She wanted me to take an improv class. Oh, hell no! Making up what to say on the spot? Not planning out conversations in my head before they happen? Impossible! I don't DO improv! I could already picture it: all eyes are on me, waiting for me to say something. The walls are closing in on me, I can feel my cheeks warm, and tunnel vision sets in. The tears are welling up in my eyes and all I want to do is escape and never come back.
Ironically, I love acting, so you would think I would jump at an opportunity like this, but Nope! I remember, probably 15 years ago now, when I played Nurse Ratched in a college production of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. I had a monologue where I lecture the patients for their bad behavior and lay down the law. During the middle of this speech, with all eyes on me, I stood up from a chair, and my silver ring of prop psych ward keys went clanging down from my pocket onto the stage floor. Someone with even the slightest sense of improv or ability to go with the flow would have picked the freaking keys up off of the floor and moved on! But that was not me. I panicked, paused, then left them on the floor and continued on with taking "privileges" away from the "boys." You know what would really happen if Nurse Ratched dropped her keys and left them lying there on the floor? McMurphy would swoop those suckers up and hightail it out of there with all the rest of the gang! Thankfully, someone picked them up for me between scenes, but I did endure some light teasing for my transgression (As well as for wearing hot pink underwear under a white nurse's uniform, but I digress).
That brief moment during the play when the teeny tiniest detour of keys falling is an example of my worst nightmare: feeling stuck in a situation where I don't know what to say or do and a swarm of feelings envelopes me. Rather than attempting to cope and learn how to get through those situations, in theater and in life, I resolved to never get myself in those situations to begin with. I would write conversations in my head before I had them, not really listening at all, because I'm too busy trying to figure out what to say after the other person is done talking. Or, just avoiding conversations with people all together so that the chance of being stuck with nothing to say would be eliminated.
Taking this improv class that my sister threw at me would be like facing that fear. I would be charging headlong into the throes of my most feared social situations on purpose. Why would I want to do that?! Luckily, the class started the next day, so I signed up on impulse without any time to change my mind and run far far away. The first misconception that got bashed on day one is that improv is for actors trying to be funny. Nope! Improv truly is our everyday life. Each moment we are making things up as we go and inventing conversations on the fly. This wasn't a class of actors learning how to be funny. It was regular people like me wanting to improve their interactions with others, gain more meaning from life, make new connections, improve work performance, and just learn and be open to the possibilities that the class would bring. And a lot of them were just as nervous as I was!
The first time I had to speak in class, I drew a blank, just like I thought I would. As each second ticked by, my heart raced faster and I felt myself shrinking as all eyes awaited what brilliant thing would come out of my mouth. The instructor rescued me, affirming my fears and assuring me that anything and everything any of us said would be correct. Of course, in "real" life that wouldn't be the case, but in a learning environment it felt good to always be validated, hear "YES!" to all my suggestions, and be met with smiles and nods. With each week that went by, I started coming out of my shell, trusting myself and trusting my classmates. I started looking forward to each session, having fun, laughing, and seeing what new ideas we would come up with.
I could never relay 10 weeks of valuable information in one blog even if I tried, so I suggest that you all consider taking an improv class if it's offered in your community. It truly can benefit everyone. For me, it was life changing. Not only did it infuse me with confidence and skill in my job, which was the reason for taking the class in the first place, but it also gave me tools that I can use outside of work and in my personal life. Ironically, the very last session of my class ended up being online as COVID-19 began to turn all our world's upside down. The timing couldn't have been more divinely planned. Those improv tools also gave me the ability to roll with all the punches COVID-19 has thrown at me the past several months, which has truly saved my life. With these skills fresh in my mind, I sincerely believe that it has helped prevent a COVID-19 fueled downward emotional spiral.
When I "graduated" from my DBT class and individual therapy a few years ago, I thought that was the end of my journey. I thought I had done it all. I thought all my options had been exhausted and that if I faced more challenges in the future that I would have nothing else to try. But the truth is, there is more to self improvement and treatment than the therapist's chair or a prescription bottle. Improv was just one option I didn't even know existed, and maybe I'll take it again later to refresh my skills and just have fun! Realizing there is a world of untapped possibilities has given me a sense of hope. If I discovered improv, I wonder what else there is for me out there? I can't wait to find out!
Special thanks to my sis for shoving this class down my throat and to all the wonderful people at Brave New Workshop in Minneapolis, MN who are dedicated to bringing improv into the lives of many souls, one Tuesday and one "Yes!" at a time.
