I am on a pilgrimage back to my comedic roots, and it has been a wild ride filled with self-discovery, intense emotion, and ultimately, a renewed sense of hope and purpose.
There is something about comedy that makes the world feel a little lighter, a little brighter, as if laughter itself lifts some of the heaviness off of our shoulders. I have always loved the art of comedy and humor. It has been a guiding force in my life, shaping my experiences in the most unexpected ways. But what once had felt like a lifetime of laughter now feels distant and forced. Anything even remotely comedic feels tainted and contaminated by an overwhelming burden of seriousness.
Transforming my struggles into something funny was my coping mechanism. The blending of pain and humor acted as a release valve, family connector, and even a community healer. Sharing my experiences was not just about eliciting laughter; it was also about fostering a sense of belonging and connection. Selfishly, using my most painful, humiliating, and shameful expierences wasn't just for others-it was for me too. I used the art of dark humor to connect-to find some semblance of solidarity in the chaos and mess of my own life. The ability to address the butt hole pucking topics that are socially off-limits, under the guise of comedy, is where you can break down the barriers that otherwise stifle healing.
The Shift: Losing My Comedic Spirit
I know the exact moment when my shift happened and I lost my comedic spirit. I lost my spirit at a comedy club in New York City, as I watched other comedians share their skits, an uncomfortable realization came over me. Every single one of them on stage that night were just like me-pretty freaking warped.
This moment of clarity contrasted starkly with the genuine expression of unity that I so desperately wanted to share, and yet it became evident that, rather than comedy being the solution to my stuff, it had become my distraction. I hadn't been processing my own struggles and grief effectively. Instead of addressing my pain, I had been escaping into laughter.
I couldn't unsee how the balancing act between sensitivity and humor was crucial and that it is not always appropriate to force laughter; sometimes, it is essential to sit with our emotions. While dark comedy can serve as a tool for processing hardships, I had been using it as a way to numb my feelings and in that realization, I understood that confronting the multitudes of issues that I was avoiding was going to be the first step toward true healing and none of that process was going to be funny.
This disconnect in my relationship with comedy forced me to reevaluate how I approached humor. I began to write, viewing it as a therapeutic outlet for my feelings. For a time, crafting humorous content felt like walking a delicate line between joy and sadness.
I struggled to find the humor in real-life experiences while desperately trying to honor their seriousness. My attempts at comedy sometimes felt forced and shallow, lacking the authenticity I yearned to convey. I realized the importance of sharing my stories; I craved connection with others who understood this complex interplay of light and darkness.
 I do believe that laughter can indeed coexist with suffering and it does not have to diminish our pain; it absolutely can enhance our understanding of it. However, it was imperative for me to retreat into silence and isolation. While fearing that healing and exploring my vulnerabilities and weaknesses would keep me from ever feeling funny again, I learned that my vulnerability could actually enrich my comedy and coming to terms with my imperfections has been liberating. I’ve learned that humor is an open invitation to share in the healing process together. There is magic in laughter, especially when it invites introspection.
I miss the joy of making people laugh and the connection that comes with a shared joke. The power of laughter brings people together while acknowledging that life isn’t always amusing. I had never aimed for a balance when I went in for the death blow. I would raw dog a joke for a laugh only to clean up the carnage —a new perspective on integrating humor with life's challenges.
Today, I focus on themes that resonate with many, such as mental health and the juggling act of parenting. According to the American Psychological Association, humor can reduce stress and enhance relationships, making it a powerful tool in discussing even the toughest topics. I realize now how humor and seriousness can coexist, each enriching our understanding of the other.
To be continued.....
