Raging Sinuses, Indie Films, and Performance-Ready Panic



aka: Why My Body Might Be Yelling at Me Again

I just wrapped up a play.
Then I jumped straight into a couple of days on an indie film shoot.
And then—because apparently the universe likes dramatic irony—I came home with a raging sinus infection, fever, chills, the kind of cough that makes people recoil like you’re Patient Zero, and vocal cords that have decided to take early retirement.

It’s giving: “You’re doing too much.”
It’s also giving: “I literally can’t afford to stop.”





Classic.

Now, I won’t say too much about the shoot. It was decent. I've been very lucky!
 The director has a solid eye and a refreshingly unpretentious style. I liked that.
But I was thrown in at the last minute, which meant the dynamics with fellow cast members weren’t exactly smooth. Blending was tricky. Let’s leave it there.
(What good would it do to dwell, anyway?)

So now I’m back in the forest for a little while—home again—antibiotics in tow, hacking like a Victorian poet with consumption and yet somehow still answering emails. Because I love what I do. I genuinely do.
But right now, it feels like my immune system is raising a white flag.
Again.



And this is where the hard bit comes in.

I’m supposed to be heading into final rehearsals for Vision: The Musical.
This is the moment when things need to go from scrappy and experimental to polished and performance-ready. We are no longer in the land of happy mistakes.
And I can’t even speak. Let alone rehearse.

Which means there might be tricky decisions to make.
And I don’t want to make them.

Because deep down, I know this can’t go on forever. Whether this is my last show, or I go on to join the ranks of amateur performers that "should have gone professional" it's hard to tell... But I also know that this can't go on like this forever... 

I’m not a brilliant dancer, I am just an ok one. I’m not a circus performer. I have CVID, asthma, chronic fatigue, and a body that sometimes forgets it’s on my side.
It takes me longer to warm up. Longer to recover.
It takes more from me to show up in the first place.

And that’s where the imposter syndrome slithers in.
Right when I’m supposed to be in the zone, I’m suddenly haunted by the ghost of who I thought I should be by now.
You ever feel that?

Like you’re holding your own in the spotlight one minute,
and the next, you’re flat on your back wondering if everyone else sees how many spoons it really took?

I don’t want this blog to be a place where I spiral.
I want it to be a place where someone out there—maybe you—feels seen.
Where maybe, instead of finding snarky hate comments in a CVID support group on Facebook, you find something you can tuck into your survival kit. A fragment of solidarity. A flicker of “That's exactly how I have felt!”

While laid up in bed this week—stuffed sinuses, hot water bottle, Nelson's steam inhaler, lemon tea in hand—I’ve been reading Main Character Energy by Jordan Paramor.
It’s snappy, yes, but also incredibly validating if you’re the kind of person who’s constantly trying to justify their presence in a room.
Especially when that room is filled with people who don’t have to factor in whether their lungs will betray them mid-show run... 



Jordan writes about reclaiming the story—about no longer being the sidekick in your own life just because your circumstances are inconvenient or hard or messy.
There’s something empowering about being told, “You’re not too much. You’re not falling behind. You’re just carrying a heavier load.”

And it’s okay to put it down sometimes.
Even if it annoys the hell out of you to do so or feels lazy. 

So here I am. Coughing, reflecting, resisting the urge to throw my script across the room.
And still—somehow—hopeful, and of course grateful for antibiotics... This year so far, 2025, I have been on antibiotics for 7 weeks in total... absurd... that's like... half the year so far... 

 I know I won’t be able to perform forever.
But I can write. I can speak up (when my voice returns).
And I can build something out of the raw material of all this pain and persistence.

Immunity: Unfiltered might just be my next stage.
A quieter one. But no less powerful.

If you're out there, reading this, laid flat yourself—know that being on pause doesn’t make you any less powerful. Rest is part of the rebellion.
And you, my dear, are still the main character.

With love and Lemsip,

C


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