Week 10a: Pain and the Human Experience

A still of Alex McCulloch (Halley Armstrong) and Paolo Santalucia
(Michael Armstrong) in Canadian Rep Theatre's production of
Armstrong's War. The show plays at The Citadel in Toronto from
November 11-December 6, 2015.

So as you saw from my post "Depression Is..." last week, it's been a hard couple of weeks for me. Maybe it's just the reality of transitions and life hitting me really hard, or maybe it's just depression rearing its nasty head, but the long and the short of it is that I'm not alright.

But for as much as it sucks, this is life. However, life isn't about hurt, pain and trials,  it's about the journey around them. This week especially has been reminding me if that.

On top of all the pressure and struggling I've been under from school already, this has been a challenging week because of others as well. I had a professor (accidentally, I hope) humiliate me in front of my entire program, and a stranger wrote awful things about me over Yik Yak (a popular anonymous social app for college students). But I think for me, the hardest experience of the last couple weeks, has oddly enough been going to see the show Armstrong's War by Colleen Murray.

If you've never been to The Citadel, the theatre is very small with the stage on the floor, and a capacity of maybe 75 people. It's an understatement to say it was intimate. Not only could I hear Dylan's breathing (he was right beside me) I could hear and peripherally see every time Khalil shuffled positions (He was on the other end of the row). Sitting front and centre, I was so close to the stage I could've spit and hit the back screen.

I've never been nervous at a show. Not being in a show, watching a show where I knew some of the cast, or even seeing a new show, but for Armstrong's War I walked into the theatre and immediately felt off. Sitting down, I was so close to Paolo I could see individual strands of hair. It was strange, waiting for a show and knowing how impervious Paolo was to my presence, and feeling so exposed. Even more so than if I was on the stage with him. As the show started I was baffled to realise that I was feeling anxious and not even for him, but anxious over my own emotions.

I don't want to give the show away, but I can say that it hit a lot of sore spots for me. Pain over some of my friends, my own experiences, and the invisible scars that traumatic events often leave. It

Pain is part of the human experience; to deny it is to deprive yourself of growth.