Daisy Diamond's Blog

Post-Show Blues: When the Curtain Falls

There’s something nobody really tells you about performing.

You spend weeks, sometimes months, building towards one moment. You rehearse until your body knows the choreography without you having to think. You obsess over costumes, music, lighting, transitions, tiny details that nobody in the audience will ever notice. You pour your heart, your energy and your soul into making the performance the very best it can possibly be.

And then suddenly…

It’s over.

The lights go down. The music stops. The costumes come off. The audience goes home.

And you’re left wondering, “What now?”

Welcome to the post-show blues.

What exactly are the post-show blues?

Post-show blues are something we hear about quite often as performers, but I don’t think we talk about them nearly enough.

That feeling of sadness, emptiness or loss that can wash over you after a performance can feel like a giant tidal wave. One minute you’re buzzing, surrounded by people, adrenaline pumping through your body, riding the incredible energy of an audience…

…and the next, you’re suddenly home, exhausted, emotional and wondering why you feel so low.

If you’ve ever experienced this, I want you to know something:

You are not broken, and you are certainly not alone.

What you’re feeling is completely valid and actually, it makes complete sense.

Performing is intense. We put our bodies and minds through so much in the lead up to a show. There are rehearsals, anticipation, nerves, excitement, adrenaline and sometimes anxiety all building momentum.

I like to think of it as a whirlpool.

It starts slowly, gathering energy as the show approaches, until eventually you’re being swept around in the beautiful chaos of showtime.

Then suddenly, it stops.

Of course your body and mind are going to need some time to adjust.

The high after the high

There is something incredibly magical about performing.

I love giving my energy to an audience and feeling that energy come straight back to me. There is nothing quite like standing on stage and feeling a room completely connected to what you’re doing.

After a show, I love soaking up that atmosphere.

I’ll celebrate with my fellow performers. I’ll chat with people who have come to watch. I’ll hug people. I’ll laugh. I’ll take in all those little moments that make performing so special.

And I think it’s important to allow yourself to enjoy that, but eventually I have to come home and this is where I have learned to consciously call my energy back to myself.

I remind myself:

I gave so much tonight.

I shared my energy, my body, my creativity and my heart.

And now it’s time to come home to myself.

That little ritual has become incredibly important to me.

Coming home to yourself

For years, I really struggled with the emotional shifts that came with performing.

I didn’t always understand why I could feel so incredible one moment and then completely flat the next.

What changed for me was learning that I needed to take care of myself after the performance just as much as I took care of myself before it.

When I get home after a show, I try not to rush.

I remove my makeup gently and slowly.

I take a long shower and let the water wash away the day.

I put on something comfortable.

I turn the volume down.

I breathe.

And I allow my body to understand that the performance is over.

It is safe to rest now.

Sometimes that simple transition from performer back to me is exactly what I need.

The day after

The next day can be tough.

Physically, your body may be exhausted. Mentally, you might feel completely drained. Emotionally, you might feel a little lost.

And that’s okay.

One of the biggest things I’ve learned is to listen to what my body actually needs rather than what I think I should be doing.

Sometimes that means complete rest.

Sometimes it means gentle stretching.

Sometimes it’s a walk outside and some fresh air.

Sometimes it’s moving my body in a really soft, intuitive way.

And sometimes it means doing absolutely nothing.

There is no prize for bouncing straight back into productivity.

Your body has just experienced something intense. Give it time.

Nourish yourself

Good, wholesome food can make such a difference after performing.

You’ve used a huge amount of physical and mental energy, so this is the time to replenish yourself.

Eat something nourishing. Drink plenty of water. Give your body the nutrients it needs.

It doesn’t need to be complicated.

Sometimes looking after yourself really is as simple as eating a proper meal, drinking some water and getting into bed early.

Move gently

If your body wants movement, keep it gentle.

A walk in nature. Some stretching. A little yoga. A few minutes of moving your body without any pressure to perform.

There doesn’t need to be choreography.

There doesn’t need to be a goal.

You’re not training.

You’re simply reconnecting with your body.

And if even that feels overwhelming…

Start smaller.

Really small.

Close your eyes.

Put your hands on your belly.

Take a slow, deep breath into your hands.

And then another.

And another.

You don’t need to meditate for twenty minutes. You don’t need the perfect environment. You don’t need to clear your mind completely.

Just breathe.

Feel your body.

Notice where you are.

Remind yourself that you are not your thoughts.

Thoughts can come and go without us having to attach ourselves to them.

Let the waves come and go

This is probably the biggest thing I’ve learned about post-show blues.

Don’t fight the wave.

We spend so much time trying to make ourselves feel better immediately.

Why am I sad?

I should be happy.

The show was amazing!

Why do I feel like this?

But perhaps we don’t need to fix it.

Perhaps we just need to allow it.

After the whirlpool of showtime, I like to imagine the ocean becoming still again.

The chaos has passed.

The sea is calm and serene, with only gentle ripples moving across the surface. The waves come towards the shore and then they gently retreat again. Much like our thoughts. They arrive, they move through us and then, eventually, they pass. We don’t have to chase them, we don’t have to judge them, we can simply let them come and go.

Take care of your mind, too

As performers, we’re often very good at looking after our bodies.

We stretch, warm up, condition, we think about injuries, we think about costumes, makeup, hair, rehearsals and everything our bodies need to get us through a performance.

But our minds deserve that same level of care.

Take a few minutes each day to find stillness. Close your eyes, put your hands on your belly and take a breath. Check in with yourself.

How am I really feeling today?

Not how you think you should feel.

Not how everyone else seems to be feeling.

How are you feeling?

And give yourself permission to listen to the answer.

I truly believe that when we become quiet enough, we can hear what we need.

You don’t have to be “on” all the time

Perhaps the biggest lesson post-show blues have taught me is that I don’t have to constantly be performing.

I don’t have to be energetic, productive or immediately start thinking about the next show. I don’t have to fill the space that the performance has left behind. Sometimes I can simply exist.

I can rest.

I can be quiet.

I can be human.

Because although the show might have ended, I am still here and there is something really beautiful about remembering that.

So, if you’ve just come off the stage and you’re feeling that familiar ache in your chest, that strange sense of emptiness or that huge drop from the incredible high you were riding…

Be gentle with yourself.

You haven’t lost something.

You are simply coming back home.

Let the waves settle.

Breathe deeply.

Nourish yourself.

Rest.

And remember that the energy you gave away on stage isn’t gone forever.

You can always call it back.

With love,

Daisy x