Right, it might as well be said (written? Typed? These are the tangents that define my life), I am really bloody dramatic. Even my body does it- like I wrote last time, I've got myself another infection. I've also now got an absolute bitch of a cold, and a gippy stomach. Why, oh why, can I not just get the sniffles? I need to eat a box or five of those strawberry chewable vitamins. Criiikey, I can't even take vitamins in a non-dramatic way, see? Oh, my dramatic life.
I used to love drama at school. I kind of saw it as an excuse to act like a total twat, back when I cared too much what people thought to just act like a twat all the time. It's not a problem I particularly have now. When I got to uni, because I studied politics, performing became doing presentations, and because at that time I confused having no self respect with being free, I would go to confusedly ridiculous lengths to avoid having to do them. I thought I was free, but actually, I was just miserable and more caged than ever.
Slowly, I'm discovering that I can laugh without alcohol, that I'm pretty damn weird and that's all good, and, crucially, I don't always have to be in character.
It's all about getting to the person I thought I was during performances, but actually being that person, rather than a canvas for whomever I was to play. Away from performances and back to presenting, yesterday I went through to York to do a presentation to students on my experiences. I've done it a few times, at different unis, and I love it. It's owning my history and my future. It's speaking about things that Just Are Not Talked About, Ever and feeling comfortable and uncomfortable. I don't know. It was a lovely group we presented to, too, and it means a lot to me, because whether they realise it or not- it's things I need to say and acceptance I need to feel. No more hiding behind characters and masks.