THE fat lady has sung.
The final curtain has fallen.
It is over.
Echuca-Moama Theatre Company’s production of Monty Python’s Spamalot ended with a bang earlier this month.
And, for the cast and crew, it can be a huge let down.
For the past six months, we have been in each other’s lives — rehearsing three times a week and then almost every day and night during performances.
We became a family.
We spent more time with each other than some of our loved ones.
We made sacrifices and neglected things and sometimes, even our careers took a back seat.
But we did it for the sake of the show.
And after months of build-up — nerves and excitement — we finally got to show our friends, family and the community what we had been working on for so long.
With eight shows over two weekends, we all worked on pure adrenalin.
And then — with an abrupt halt — it is all over.
There is no gradual ending. It is a crash landing.
And that’s when post-show depression can kick in.
Yes, it is real.
It can include random bursts of sadness or anger, excessive sleeping, binge-watching your favourite musicals, sitting in the dark for long period of time, confusion about how to function in society and intense caffeine consumption.
The Urban Dictionary describes post-show depression as ‘‘the feeling after a musical is over and you realise you have no life’’.
‘‘It is a feeling of emptiness and sadness that can continue for weeks or months after the show’s finished. You get little pangs when you see something that reminds you of the musical or when you’re sitting at home on a night when you would usually be performing or rehearsing. When you run into one of your show family after this depression it usually involves a lot of hugging and crying’’.
And the crying can start anywhere, any time.
In my case, in the supermarket holding a tin of Spam.
Or thinking about Jews. Or rabbits.
I even cried into my tiny pair of frilly knickers I managed to fit into for the show.
But, as they say, the best way to fully recover is to go head on into another project.
So I am looking for some suggestions to give my life meaning again.
Help me get out of my melancholy stupor.
Note: I love my (meaningful) children very much.