First rehearsal in the new shoes! And insecurity!

And my feet only hurt! It isn't so bad that I've lost my will to live! The other ladies say they hurt anyway until you break them in, so I have hope. In the shoes.

Now, in my acting/singing/dancing? I'm not so sure. I'm going to keep working on everything as hard as I can, no doubt; but I'm worried. Of course. But more than my normal worried. You know what I wish? I wish I could cut myself slack, get out of my head, trust myself, insert whatever statement you can think of that is encouraging. Instead, I find myself barely holding in a desperate need for feedback, for encouragement, for praise from the others. And there is very little else I hate in myself as much as I hate this.

I hate this pathetic, desperate feeling. I hate that it is inside me. I hate that there doesn't seem to be any medication/meditation/intervention that can purge it out of me. Maybe I'm not cut out for this side of the stage.