True self-confidence never needs to degrade the confidence of others in order to grow and survive. If it does, it’s not confidence at all. . .it’s ego.
– Charles F. Glassman

There is a monster inside me waiting to devour those I lay eyes on. It seeks out to find those that are weak and punish them, consuming them in raw fire; taking their energy to feed its ugly endeavors. For those that are stronger it lays patiently dormant, waiting for the exact moment when they fail or grow weak. On that note it discordantly strikes and greedily feeds on the poor misfortune of that once kingly soul.

In any achievement or acclaim it feigns humility in reverential bows considering itself low while it sits with its nose on high looking down at the world. In hardships and failures it disappears into the shadows waiting to strike on the misfortunes of others to rise again; a King sitting on his throne elevated to his status by the bodies which he has devoured to get there. It is jealous of its own endeavors and envious of other’s successes. It can never be contented and is always famished, needing to feed on the misfortune of others.

People ask me why I have a hard time taking compliments and it’s because I am scared that this ugly mangy wolf will come out from hiding. I have been so scared of my own ego that I have killed all ambition lest it grow to feed it. So anytime success becomes a reality, anytime dreams seem to be within grasp, I self-sabotage for the sake of ego. I was a runner because of ego.

If another gets an audition over me how will I react?
Will I paste a fake smile on my face and offer half-hearted congratulations while stabbing them in the back with my talk of them later?

If I find another is going for the same audition will I hold back from auditioning as well?
Will I self-sabotage myself to save face lest I lose out or feign benevolence for not taking a risk to fail? Is self-sabotage anything but fuel to the fire of ego?

What a coward I have been. I act so low in feigning ignorance of keeping my ego at bay, yet while I cower it is only my ego I am feeding. Through not addressing it I am enslaving myself to its hidden desires. For it is ego to sit lower than where you are – thinking you are truly higher – as well as to be higher than where you are. Instead will I bravely sit exactly where I am?

Self-confidence is the true counter-part to ego. Achievements, acclaim, and compliments do not need to be dodged for ego’s sake but accepted for self-confidence’s sake. For as self-confidence grows the ego will be beaten back. In being confident with who and where I am I can truly admire and make soar those that rise above me, as well as lift and pull up those that are below me. The measure of a man is not found solely in his ambitions and desires but how he treats others. For what is it worth to gain the world’s possessions and fame and lose my own soul.

Nothing I can dream of for myself is worth more than the enjoyment of sharing with others. The elation in collaborating with others. The delectation of watching others succeed and prosper. The gratification of watching or helping one to rise higher than where they were yesterday. My coach has given up so much to see the future of this craft progress forward in her actors she has brought up. She has struggled with her own ambition, yet all I see is a 10 plus year program of empowered talent that is unstoppable. There is something worth more than its weight in gold of Oscars or fame.

If there is anyone who exudes self-confidence and has rooted out her own ego it is her. For now I might struggle, but one day I will win out, and every day I currently do it grows weaker. Every day I stand taller and confident in my own skin and ability is a break in the chain of the slave master of ego.

I wish I could sit here and write a happy story. A story that elicits laughter and smiles instead of dread and wistfulness. I wish I could engender feelings of hope, passion, and love, but it would all be a terrible lie. I thought I had come so far in this. Only to realize these walls I had built were merely a prison to trap me inside.

I had never wished to bury you and maybe, truthfully, I never let go. Maybe I cannot ever let go. For I am haunted by these memories to this day. I’ve tried to runaway and forget but they always come back. I’ve tried to put on a smiling facade only to have it come crashing down, again and again.

I hate that I am affected by this. This was so long ago, people should get over these types of things. Is this just misery I carry along with me to make me feel? If it is then I hate it and myself even more. To use you and these memories as a token of grief to carry around makes me utterly sick. The idea was to live on because anything else would not honor you or these memories. But I’m struggling to live on. I’m struggling to find a point in all of this.

My biggest pet peeve is fake people. I despise them and everything they represent. Their paltry existence is an affront and disgrace to life itself. Yet the root of this is in the truth that I feel this only because I despise myself; for I am the greatest fake of them all.

My coach wants to see the artist within me, the truth I hold inside. I have never given that or shown that in class or in any of my work. So she is pushing me to uncover it, as though there was some hidden gem of great value to be found beneath it all. But I fear what she will find, and what will ultimately be exposed, is that I am empty inside. There is no artist alive in me. There is nothing there to behold. Worse is when that final and truthful face is ultimately revealed, all other outer shells and walls will be destroyed. This fragile facade will break down and it will be time to run again.

Yet I will not end the story there because there must be something at this core. It may be bleak, dark, dreary, and ugly, but there is something. There is always truth to be had and mine is no different, greater or lesser, than anyone else’s. We who live on must not keep to what we have lost but grow to what our potential can gain. For there will always be a dawn. So on we row, for there is nowhere else to go.

Well tonight is opening night for my stage debut. I’ve been trying to figure out my feelings for this. Should I be nervous? Should I be excited? I’ve been at a loss to feel something for it. Judging myself for not being nervous or ecstatic or anything in between. I just feel, ready. Ready for it to be over.

Last night was the last dress rehearsal, the last rehearsal period, and I’ll just say it did not go well. In my estimation a train-wreck would have been gobs more interesting. From everyone’s smiles and energy I’m pretty confident I was the only one that felt that way. I went home with the feeling that I was the debbie downer.

All I could see was the negative and of course that was completely in myself. I’m still fighting myself in every moment, still judging every action, every word. I have zero confidence in my ability to perform. Maybe the reason I don’t feel anything for tonight is because in truth I cannot wait for this show to be over so I can get back into class.

I’ve struggled so much with this production, in the aspect that it requires me as an actor to step out and be independent in every aspect of my work. There is no class to take it up in front of, no coach to get feedback from and make adjustments. All the work comes down to me, and I feel that I have failed. I haven’t even opened yet and I feel that I have failed. I have learned that I have no confidence in myself as an actor.

Even further I have no belief in myself as a person, which was all too apparent this week. I buried my Grandma this week and was asked to preside over the service. It was the first funeral I’ve done and I hope the last. I couldn’t feel anything there either. All around me my family was crying and here I was wondering why not a single tear fell down my cheek. Of course I was saddened by her passing and moved and touched by my family’s goodbyes, but inside I couldn’t help but feel a part of me was empty.

Loss was never something easy for me and of course this loss only brought me back to an all too painful loss of over 8 years. Which in turn that loss only reminded me of the loss of a dear love I abandoned 7 years ago. I felt completely alone and missed the love of two people I adored so much. Wounds burst open that I thought I had healed long ago. My heart was broken and I couldn’t sleep; I was sinking down into the depths of misery’s maelstrom.

Yet, this morning I was reminded of the belief in others towards myself. As well that what I’m about to do tonight and this journey that I have embarked on has little to do with just myself. I am a part of something bigger now. I am not alone. This weight I carry, these burdens I shoulder, and these memories that haunt me cannot continue to hold me back. I have to continue moving forward, and while each step may feel like I’m sinking further into quicksand, I have to believe there is solid ground somewhere ahead.

I’ve never been able to believe in myself, always relying on others’ belief in me. I’ve never been able to live for myself, always finding a reason to live in others. It’s long time for that to change. My hope is that in the lights and presence of an audience tonight I can find myself on stage, even if for a brief moment. That I can find some semblance of life and a belief in myself. However this ends, it is merely one part to a much bigger whole, and I cannot exasperate myself over a single grain of sand when there is a whole coast to explore.

One of the hardest decisions you’ll ever face in life
is choosing whether to walk away or try harder.
-Ziad K. Abdelnour

My natural instinct is to run. Over the years I have become really good at running away. Traveling to new places and making new friends doesn’t sound so bad until it’s put into perspective with the past I’ve left behind. A past strewn with fears and failures left behind in a frantic attempt to live a better life by actively ignoring them.

Yet the path would always come back full circle and I would be running off again. Three years ago I made the hardest decision of my life, deciding to run headlong into my problems rather than away from them. It sucked; I broke. In time I was able to rebuild. What arose from those ashes wasn’t some great bulwark of a man, but rather a man conscious of his faults and failures. A man who chooses to love himself despite himself. This isn’t an easy thing for me and gets tested constantly.

This is one of those times. Lately in my acting I’ve felt like running away. This past month has been difficult. I feel at arms length; disassociated with my work, with myself. Negative thoughts engulf me as doubt creeps in from all sides. There are so many things associated with this or at cause here. I don’t even know where to begin or how to decipher them. The only thing I do know is there is nowhere else to go.

The prime directive being to kill any inflated dream of myself and focus on the work at hand. I talk about this a lot and really it’s just a humbling thing. It’s a comfort but it’s also a reality check. I’m tired of fleetingly flying from dream to dream, chasing ghosts of myself. I’m tired of giving up. I want to give up so bad right now, which makes me want to try all the harder. I have to stop focusing on an end result and being upset that it’s not instantly achieved.

There is much work ahead to be done and that is my current focus. As well as enjoying this journey of trying harder in spite of how much I want to run away. This is not an easy task, but anything worth doing is not necessarily easy.