My Anxiety Led Me Down a Rabbit Hole. This Is What Came Out of It.

WARNING: The following piece of material covers the sensitive topics of mental health, death, and abuse within the entertainment industry. DO NOT proceed if you’re triggered in any way. Also, please reach out to someone if you’re going through any of this.

I was watching the Joe Budden Podcast—not just this episode where they cover texts from Tyler Perry’s accuser, but the others related to Perry as well. All of which highlight problematic behavior and patterns surrounding the acclaimed producer/writer/actor.

The warning you see at the top of this piece is, ironically, one of the things that triggered me into writing it. Just one of many things.

You know the saying, when it rains, it pours? Well, in the age of social media, it’s more like when it rains, it’s The Day After Tomorrow.

A domino effect on my mental health started when I found out a friend-of-a-friend had passed. Though I didn’t know them personally, it hit harder than expected. They were a local celebrity. There was also the high school connection. Which led me down the rabbit hole—a dark, cold place, not the fun one with Alice and LSD.

One of the “what-if” intrusive thoughts brought me to a gorgeous, elaborate wedding that totally did not make me jealous…

Suppose you can say mistakes were made on my part. Tricky thing, since the impulse is to say, I’m only human.

So how in the hell are these three things even connected? Why write about it?

We’ll get to that in the end. Just to be open, I’m keeping everything vague, and all events are merely my interpretation of events—not necessarily the truth. People deserve their privacy. People are innocent until proven guilty. And this is just a personal blog.

Connections begin in high school. The individual was someone I didn’t know personally, but I knew of him. A grinder, with business acumen already showing in friggin’ high school. I kept tabs on him and his collective, since an actual friend of mine was involved. They inspired me—albeit indirectly—to keep pushing with acting. Stuff on social media made me say, “Wow, if these guys from Somerville can live their dream, why can’t I?”

Now we Tarantino the timeline a little bit. Fast-forward two years ago.

My acting career had been in full-swing, full-time mode since the pandemic. I was asked to do a student film, where my character has sex with a male professor and blackmails him with footage. No shame on my part.

The individual who brought the project to me had a job in Atlanta. They always seemed sad when they had to leave. As we wrapped filming, I noticed a glassy-eyed glance. Sad. Almost triggered.

That job in Atlanta? Tyler Perry’s The Oval.

They went from being excited to go, to sad, to now having what appears to be a stable career. Are you connecting the same dots I tried? Who wouldn’t?Again though, this is an assumption. I’m not accusing anyone of anything. But that student film was inspired by something.

If the collective from high school succeeded on meritocracy, that student film showed what some artists feel forced to do just to stay alive.

Neither I—nor that collective, to my knowledge—ever did anything but push through to get by. I have faith in making that assumption, despite not knowing the deceased, because of their obituary. A guy who worked his way up the local ranks, only to still be working two jobs: a daytime gig, and their passion at night.

But why?

Why do the individuals who enabled Harvey Weinstein get to live their dreams, while the rest of us fall for the American Dream?

I was shocked to learn that someone with multiple media credits still had to grind themselves down just to make ends meet. That’s not fair. Just because people are willing to die for their profession doesn’t mean they have to. Those individuals should be rewarded by society—not punished.Maybe I’m alone in that sentiment.

Now for the wedding angle. Remember Crazy Rich Asians? It was just like that.At first, I was jealous. There, I admit it.

But after the jealousy passed, I couldn’t stop watching these stories that had absolutely jack shit to do with me. I couldn’t look away. Because it showed me something obvious:

When people have resources, camaraderie, and a safety net—they’re capable of building incredible things.

But in my experience, when a person lacks even one of those? It can mean the difference between life and death.

So, I put the phone down.

Maybe this post is just the spiral of an OCD/ADHD/sad man connecting dots that weren’t even there. Or maybe I’m just a human who observes too closely at things that shouldn’t be compared.

I’m comfortable saying I fall into the latter.The opinion, though, is up to you. I have to live with that.

One thing I hope we can all agree on and work toward:A society where we show empathy to each other.Where our hard work gets rewarded in one field—not five.Where we can all have a Crazy Rich Asians wedding while doing the thing that fulfills us.

And yeah—it goes without saying:We need a culture that continues calling out those in power who abuse that power.

Because even if Tyler Perry is, in fact, innocent as he claims—we all know the dark truth:Too many powerful people not only get away with abuse...They hoard the very resources that artists like the rest of us desperately need.