High Anxiety

Most of you know the illness I have causes me to be sort of a hermit. I joined a support group, but we never meet.

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I have been running my life at 1,000 miles per hour as long as I can remember. Even in high school, I needed to be in extra curricular activities, have a job, be a DJ at a school, politics, etc.

My father told me many times that I would amount to nothing, so I set out to prove him wrong and didn't stop until my body and brain decided enough was enough.

I never wanted to miss anything. If there was something happening, I wanted to see it, become a part of it, anything just to do it. I was in Montreal,on the night they celebrated their 350th anniversary as a city. I was in the streets with two million other people that night. Forget the fact that I would only get an hour of sleep before heading to France the next morning.

Even on the planes, I didn't want to sleep. I wanted to watch the movies, talk to the flight attendants, read a book, play video games - anything but sleep. Sleep became my enemy. During sleep, you can dream of doing things, but it's not real, so it doesn't count.

I went to the top of the CN Tower in Toronto, which was the tallest building in the world, at the time. I needed to.

I remember getting to France one time, awake the entire flight from Los Angeles - at night - and staying awake all day and half of the night. Like in a movie, I fell face first into my dinner plate, sound asleep.

In show business, I had to try and do it all. Stand up comedy, film work, television. I started a comedy school, while being director of sales for a 22 store retailer. The school evolved to the point that I had beginner, intermediate and professional classes, hosting classes, childrens comedy classes, improv classes and 22 showrooms.

In addition, we had a local television show, I was still doing road comedy and we started entertaining at baseball stadiums across the country. I remember times where I would be on the road and had to drive back with no sleep, to do an episode of our television show.

My father didn't acknowledge my stand up comedy success until he saw one of my shows, live. He still didn't say much, but one day, I was on my way to a gig somewhere and I stopped in unexpectedly to my parent's house. I opened the front door, and there was my father, watching one of my performance videos with one of his friends.

At that moment, I knew I finally had his approval, which was great, but my life was in full motion and would not stop until it was too late. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy my life on disability, but there was also a time when I planned my demise because I could no longer run.

If you find yourself in the same state of crazy living, please slow down. You'll regret it if you don't.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to lay down and relax for a while.

See you tomorrow.

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