Manic in Ireland (Part One)
It’s September 2002. It’s the build up to the war in Iraq. I’m in Dublin, Ireland. The reason I bring up the war is because people in Europe are tense about it. Protests have erupted all over. As an American abroad at this time, with George W. Bush as president, I’m an asshole until proven otherwise. Irish people walk right up to me and ask me if I’m an American and then they ask me if I voted for Bush. It’s so rude lol. It also has the effect of making me want to defend the States. Sure, I have many issues with the U.S. government, but it’s MY country. I’ll rail against it. I don’t need your smug Irish input; especially when you’re all so damn touchy about any critiques of your own country’s politics. Besides that, though, I LOVE being in Dublin and the Irish people are the most fun!
I’m studying abroad for the year at Trinity College Dublin. I study political science, international law and theater. I make lots of friends. I drink with reckless abandon, of course. That’s what you do when you’re 21 years old in Ireland. Hell, that’s what lots of folks do at any age in Ireland. My relatively recent Bipolar diagnosis is very far in the back of my mind. I don’t think about it. After all, I’m fine now. I need to move forward with my life. I’m not going to let it hold me back. I can outrun it. That’s something treacherous about Bipolar Disorder: In between episodes, while I’m in a ‘normal’ frame of mind, it seems so inconceivable to me that I could possibly lose my marbles again. My incredulity allows me to let my guard down. Honestly, for many years (and certainly at 21 years old in Ireland), I didn’t even have a guard in place to let down. Not even close.
At Trinity, there is the Samuel Beckett Theatre. The smartest thing I do, socially, is to audition for the “Fresher’s Co-op.” It’s a comedic play that is only cast with first year students and international students but is written and directed by upperclassmen. Being a part of this production immediately ingratiates me to a whole bunch of tremendous people. I instantly have a connection with the Irish students and the international students. This allows me to escape the bubble of just hanging out with other Americans while abroad, which is something that can often happen. I’m grateful that I’m lucky enough to connect with the subculture of theater freaks lol.
I end up acting in a very challenging Samuel Beckett short play called “Ohio Impromptu.” The characters are two old men: The Reader and the Listener. I play the Listener. I don’t have any lines, but the role is emotionally taxing. The Listener is made to, well, listen to very painful memories and regrets concerning his late wife and his life. Both the Reader and the Listener are supposed to look as identical as possible, both wearing long black coats and having long white hair. The Reader has a book from which he reads the last pages. Soon after he starts to read, the Listener knocks the knuckles of his closed fist on the table. This prompts the Reader to stop reading and then repeat the last sentence he read before the knock. A beat passes, as the Listener processes the pain and regret, then he knocks again, and the Reader proceeds. This pattern continues throughout the entirety of the play. Yeah, it’s heavy lol.
I’ve only acted here and there over the years, but I am proud of my performance in “Ohio Impromptu.” I believe I pulled from the depth of sadness I experienced while depressed following mania to emote the pain and anguish necessary to make the Listener have impact without having a single line of dialogue. I certainly have lived through a very wide spectrum of emotions, from runaway euphoria to suicidal ideation and everything in between. I suppose that is a silver lining of Bipolar Disorder. I do feel very human.
There’s a video of Jeremy Irons masterfully performing “Ohio Impromptu” on YouTube, playing both rolls.
Love,
JFOD
(Note: Go to jfodnews.com to read past entries.)