{"id":986,"date":"2008-02-25T10:00:00","date_gmt":"2008-02-25T10:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blog.beliefnet.com\/beyondblue\/2008\/02\/and-oscar-goes-tous.html"},"modified":"2008-02-25T10:00:00","modified_gmt":"2008-02-25T10:00:00","slug":"and-oscar-goes-tous","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/beyondblue\/2008\/02\/and-oscar-goes-tous.html","title":{"rendered":"And the Oscar Goes To&#8230;Us"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"oscars.jpg\" src=\"https:\/\/wp-media.beliefnet.com\/sites\/71\/import\/oscars.jpg\" width=\"200\" height=\"130\" \/><br \/>\nIf anyone deserves an <a href=\"http:\/\/www.oscar.com\/\">Oscar<\/a> for exceptional acting, it&#8217;s a depressive. <a href=\"http:\/\/blog.beliefnet.com\/beyondblue\/2006\/12\/my-guardian-angel-ann.html\">My guardian angel, Ann<\/a>, told me the other day that she has spent more than half of her life pretending to be a happy person. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;People have no idea I suffer like I do. When they learn about my manic depression, they shake their heads. Because I appear to be so content and jovial.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Ah yes. &#8220;Fake it &#8217;til you make it.&#8221; My epitaph.<\/p>\n<p>For at least 18 months, forty-five of my fifty-minute therapy sessions went to acting lessons: how to feign a stable and functional person until I became one. <\/p>\n<p>Two days out of the psych ward (the second time), I played the part of an author who was throwing a successful pub date party for the release of her book &#8220;<a href=\"http:\/\/www.amazon.com\/exec\/obidos\/ASIN\/0767922662\/beliefnet\">The Imperfect Mom<\/a>&#8221; (which had been compiled pre-breakdown). I wanted desperately to be this person, so I visualized myself with a few good months behind me, confidently discussing the stories I had gathered before an audience of prominent editors and respected writers.<\/p>\n<p>With sweaty palms and a racing heart, I sent out close to 50 electronic invitations (<a href=\"http:\/\/www.evite.com\/pages\/invitations\/party.jsp?utm_id=5118&amp;acid=543674460&amp;mtid=1\">evites<\/a>) to the classy list of contributors&#8211;like journalist <a href=\"http:\/\/www.unnaturalwoman.com\/\">Judith Newman<\/a> and Baby Einstein founder <a href=\"http:\/\/www.babyeinstein.com\/about\/01-03_founder.asp\">Julie Aigner-Clark<\/a>&#8211;and to all my publishing friends in New York, most of whom were clueless about my previous year in hell.<\/p>\n<p><!--more--><br \/>\n<br \/>Five days after I sent the evites, my literary agent&#8217;s assistant e-mailed me a list of possible caterers, wineries, bar tenders, and places where I could rent coat racks and glasses.<\/p>\n<p>As I read over his suggestions, I panicked. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Oh God. Oh God. I can&#8217;t do this,&#8221; I said. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s the matter?&#8221; my sister asked. I was in her kitchen (in Cincinnati, Ohio), checking my e-mails from her computer.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;This New York trip. What am I thinking? I can barely get groceries. I still cry almost every hour. I can&#8217;t organize a party for all the publishing people I want to impress. What if I break down in the middle of it? They&#8217;ll find out I&#8217;m crazy. My career is toast.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t worry. I&#8217;ll go with you,&#8221; she said. &#8220;I know wines (she was a sales rep for <a href=\"http:\/\/cincinnati.citysearch.com\/profile\/8183186\/evendale_oh\/ohio_valley_wine_beer_co.html\">Ohio Valley Wine<\/a>). And all we need are some cheeses, crackers, and stuff. Forget the rentals. I can put a party together. It&#8217;ll be fine.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Next came the hard part: learning my lines.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Pretend that I am an editor with <a href=\"http:\/\/www.lhj.com\/\">Ladies&#8217; Home Journal<\/a>,&#8221; my therapist said. &#8220;I walk up to you and say, &#8216;Hey Therese! Good to see you. What have you been up to?&#8217; What will you say?&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Oh. Nothing much. Just hanging out in the community room of a psych ward with Allen, an 85-year-old who has slept with 96 women and wants to make it 97.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Try again,&#8221; she said. &#8220;You are still tutoring at the college, right?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Until the dean discovers a whackjob is teaching tomorrow&#8217;s leaders.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;And you are writing your <a href=\"http:\/\/www.catholicnews.com\/\">Catholic column<\/a>, correct? There&#8217;s another conversation. And your kids are always great small-talk subjects. Just stay away from the topic of depression.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>On the three-hour <a href=\"http:\/\/www.amtrak.com\/servlet\/ContentServer?pagename=Amtrak\/HomePage\">Amtrak<\/a> ride to New York, I memorized my lines, repeated them over and over again, like I was auditioning for an off-Broadway play.<\/p>\n<p>I imagined the key players and rehearsed the dialog. &#8220;Naval Academy. Catholic column. Kids. No depression.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>With my sister&#8217;s help, I pulled it off! I don&#8217;t think anyone suspected that just five weeks earlier I was rooming with an anorexic chick, getting my vitals taken every three hours.<\/p>\n<p>In fact, so successful was the New York party that I repeated the act again a few weeks later, when I met a magazine editor at the <a href=\"http:\/\/www.bookexpoamerica.com\/App\/homepage.cfm?moduleid=42&amp;appname=288\">Book Expo America<\/a> in DC. She hugged me tightly and looked at me so sincerely as she asked me, &#8220;How are you?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>I immediately began sobbing, pig snorts and everything. <\/p>\n<p>So I guess I have a bit more practicing to do before I&#8217;m <a href=\"http:\/\/www.imdb.com\/name\/nm0000658\/\">Meryl Streep<\/a> and become truly Oscar-worthy.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>If anyone deserves an Oscar for exceptional acting, it&#8217;s a depressive. My guardian angel, Ann, told me the other day that she has spent more than half of her life pretending to be a happy person. &#8220;People have no idea I suffer like I do. When they learn about my manic depression, they shake their&hellip;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":15,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-986","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-depression"],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v23.9 - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>And the Oscar Goes To...Us - Beyond Blue<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/beyondblue\/2008\/02\/and-oscar-goes-tous.html\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"And the Oscar Goes To...Us - Beyond Blue\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"If anyone deserves an Oscar for exceptional acting, it&#8217;s a depressive. 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