Achieving Serenity

Stage Fright

Lifting the burdens

We kissed goodbye, she walked out of my apartment and I turned the lock, finally returning to my miserable yet comfortable isolation. I closed my eyes as I faced the floor, frozen in a pensive defeat. For the sixth consecutive time, I wasn't able to perform sexually. I'm only twenty-years-old and am becoming convinced that I have erectile dysfunction. I opened my eyes and walked over to my kitchen to check the stove clock. I needed to leave in one hour to meet up with Kyle at the comedy show. I slumped over to my couch as I begin to wallow in shame.

The girl was a former supervisor, and after I left the job we continued texting. We eventually let one another know of our suppressed feelings and she offered to come over to my apartment to have sex. I was nervous because I didn't want her to know I was a virgin but figured she was going to find out one way or another. I ended up getting some of those convenience store pills, advertised on the package "Feel like you're 18 again!" They proved to have not worked for me.

I was cursed. Every time I had the opportunity to have sex, I would become afraid and panic, comparative to nearly every social situation I'm in. I used to think that the reason I couldn't perform was that I was always drunk, but I had given up alcohol and still had the problem. Even after my former supervisor walked me through the procedure, the same way she had taught me several work-related protocols- I still suffered a mortifying failure.

I had never been to the particular comedy club I was meeting Kyle at tonight, but when I got there it seemed pretty relaxed. It was an outdoor atmosphere and I spotted Kyle chatting up some fellow comics. I felt a little out of place as I realized this was an open mic. I always wanted to perform comedy as a child, often dreaming of the day I would become a stand-up. Now that it was possible to try out, I was terrified.

I said my hellos to Kyle and his buddies as I proceeded to awkwardly hang back, barely a part of the circle. A comedian on stage was rattling off jokes to a small crowd and it appeared he wasn't getting too many laughs. I debated heading to the bathroom just so I could have something to do with my body when Kyle turned his head over to me and gave me his distinct grin.

"Are you going on stage tonight, Frankie?" he asked me.

"No, no," I chuckled, "maybe another time. I'll just watch you tonight."

He badgered me a bit but understood that it wasn't going to happen. I began hanging around my friend until I found a seat I was comfortable at- a spot where I didn't feel any obligation for small talk. I began watching the comedians and felt a bit uncomfortable how intimate the situation was. I was only one of seven members who was mindfully seated, and the comic kept making eye contact with me. Suddenly I did feel an anxious, social obligation so decided I was better to just watch the floor as I listened.

When Kyle got up, it was blatantly obvious he was the most seasoned comedian of everyone there. He was getting genuine laughs from the entire place, myself included. I thought about how one day Kyle will probably be famous, and then I began reminiscing on my own dreams.

Before I met Kyle, any time someone asked me what I wanted to do, I would say a stand-up comedian. I loved the art of creating a humorous situation out of virtually anything in the world. When I watched comedy specials on television, I wanted whatever that comedian had. I loved the feeling of making people laugh- I felt there was no greater compliment in the world than hearing "You're funny!"

I gave up on the dream because it felt impossible. I didn't understand how one made money doing it, let alone become successful. From what I could gather, it just seemed like comedians had to hope there was someone who was already famous in the crowd. I didn't understand how logistically it was done, so I gave it up.

I met Kyle in rehab, and we hit it off right away. All of a sudden, before my eyes, the tools to become a comedian were being presented to me. The pathway is so clear now when it was once a foggy haze. Why is it that I am so afraid?

That night I had a vivid dream about a girl named Jeanette, who was an elementary school classmate that I haven't seen since then. She was crying at a school playground, looking exactly as I remembered. There was nobody else there in the dream, and I walked over to her. She just kept crying and wouldn't tell me why. When I awoke the next morning, I lay in bed as I pondered an old memory. Something about Jeanette that I hadn't thought about in ten years.

In fifth grade, I was really interested in making websites. I didn't understand how you made your own, and so I asked my older sister for help. She showed me this website that let you create your own pages with limited features. I became hooked as I began making all kinds of pages for my friends to see. I was excited for them to see my work on the Internet. It made me feel famous, in a way.

This became an outlet to make my friends laugh. I would try to come up with all kinds of funny things, eager to see their reactions when they clicked through. Eventually, I became too comfortable and would write nasty things about the girls in our class. One day at recess, a teacher cut me off, pulled me to the side and began sternly talking to me about my website. I was always intimidated by this teacher and always tried to avoid her, but now I was getting lectured by her. She let me know that I was to use the computer lab to delete the website immediately.

She walked me over to one the machines and as I confirmed the deletion with her watching over my shoulder, I thought the worst was over. Instead, the theme of the day became Internet safety. All three fifth grade classes received the same talk. I was humiliated as I sat through looking down, knowing that everybody knew this was because of something I did. I was so stupid for saying those mean things. To this day, the only precise wording I can remember that I wrote on there was "Jeanette is ugly." She was a new girl at the school and I bullied her.

To this day, I've never had an experience like that in my life. And it was simple why- I decided that the best way to avoid humiliation is to shut your mouth and don't show up. However, if I'm being honest, I'm tired of being so afraid of the world. Rejection is okay and part of life. I felt like I needed to apologize to Jeanette. I'm sure I did all those years ago, but there's got to be a reason it's still on my mind today.

I found her on Facebook and ended up exchanging messages with her. I asked if she was willing to meet up and have dinner, figuring I'll just apologize online if she says no. To my surprise, she was thrilled to reconnect with me after all these years.

I picked up for dinner and when I saw her, I couldn't believe I had ever called her ugly, as this woman was pure beauty. When I apologized to her, she laughed and told me that I didn't need to worry about it. It hurt her feelings, but mostly it hurt because she had a crush on me. I couldn't believe it- I had gone my whole life convinced that no girl ever noticed me.

The day after our first date, I felt a serenesense of freedom, as if a five-ton elephant had just been lifted from myemotional cargo. I had a powerful urge to change my situation today. I decidedto call up Kyle and tell him to book me on the next open mic. For the firsttime in my entire life, I was ready to perform.