Dear Evan Hansen - MY STORY pt. 2

The second part of my story begins with the birth of my first child, a time that forced a great reset, or maybe a second iteration, of Lindsay-Anne as I knew her. I experienced the downside of hypervigilance and anxiety, two traits that had fueled me for most of my life. 

Depression was deep and dark and frightening. It's like nothing I've ever experienced, nor hope to again. The mind is so very powerful and when those processes we've put in place over time to keep us balanced and regulated are no longer there, the mind malfunctions. And the result is crushing; almost unbearable. 

But this is yet another time that led to change and a new outlook; a new way. The struggle of becoming a mother shocked me because I wasn't prepared. Why wasn't I prepared? Thankfully I learned an important lesson about vulnerability, which I carry with me to this day.

This episode concludes the solo, single talking head part of this series and I'm excited to get into the real behind the scenes work on Dear Evan Hansen! Who should I have on the show first?

For more information or tickets to see Dear Evan Hansen in Kelowna, visit Kelowna Actors Studio: https://kelownaactorsstudio.com/

Transcript

Host 0:03

Hello and welcome to Her Canuck Voice, where we are talking all things performing arts and the power of connection. My name is Lindsay -Anne Dow. I am the Her in Her Canuck Voice, and this season I'm taking you behind the scenes of my first ever professional production, Dear Evan Hansen. This is a multiple Tony Award-winning musical debuting for the first time in Kelowna, BC, Canada, this spring. So, ladies and gentlemen, take your seats and enjoy the show.

Host 0:35

Trigger warning off the top, since this season of the podcast centers around the musical Dear Evan Hansen, in which the subject of teen mental health and suicide is at the forefront. Please honor where you're at. If these subjects are too much right now, it's okay. Move along. Let's remember everyone has a story and to lead with love and kindness and acceptance always. We're all in this together.

Host 1:02

Welcome to episode three of this brand new baby podcast. And thanks for taking a chance by being here and sharing in this journey. My family was away over spring break, and I took it upon myself to crack open the book and start reading lines. We have not begun rehearsals yet. Kelowna Actors Studio is incredibly professional and structured and very efficient. Once we begin rehearsals, very shortly, we will have roughly six weeks to prepare before live shows begin. I'm doing the math and recognizing that I have not had to memorize lines or lyrics or virtually anything fun since uh yeah, a long time. So yes, I will take a head start. Thank you very much.

Host 1:51

Side story. When I decided I was going to audition for Dear Evan Hansen, once I'd made it through the open casting call to the callback phase, I knew I had to work every possible angle to have a hope of getting cast. There are only eight characters in this show, no ensemble, so it was either get a main role or don't get in. So I did an embarrassingly large amount of research, which included purchasing a book, like a large, beautiful coffee table book. It's like a keepsake piece on the show's history, how the story was developed, detailed descriptions of the characters, right down to how they dress, which was probably my favorite page. And the book contains the entire script, beginning to end. So I read that too. So yeah, I love being prepared, and any head start I can give myself as one of the older, newer, less experienced members of the cast, the better. I digress. The purpose of this episode is to conclude the introduction phase, finish laying the foundation, this very thick foundation we are laying, so we can get to the show, behind the scenes exclusive on the making of Dear Evan Hansen for a Kelowna audience. And hopefully, I can inspire you to get out and see more live theater, more concerts, more opportunities for walls being torn down, and for connection.

Host 3:23

I ended the last episode at the halfway point in my personal story. Okay, if you haven't done so, go back and listen to the episode previous to this one, or don't, whatever. This time I'm about to talk about is kind of like when my life got jolted and was forced to restart, or its second iteration. My husband and I kind of like to refer to this phase of life like the Christian calendars BC and AD. BC or before Christ means the time before a restart of our timeline, before everything changed, before things began again. We say that BC actually means before children for us because it feels literally that poignant of a time. So in 2013, I gave birth to my beautiful daughter Aria. No, not after the character in Game of Thrones or the hotel in Vegas, but obviously a musical aria. Such a pretty name for the girl of a mom with a musical background, right? Maybe she would grow up to sing me aria's one day. So quite early on, I knew something wasn't right. Not with her, goodness. She was thriving. It was me. It started with sleep. Well, I couldn't sleep. And yeah, they say that's normal for new parents with feeding and changing. It's hard to get more than a couple hours at a time if you're lucky. And we were. She was a great baby. But I wasn't able to sleep when I could sleep. I started to hear her cries when they weren't even there. I'd lie awake in the middle of the night after a feeding, wondering when the next one would be, imagining I could hear her stirring. I began to obsess about how much sleep I was or wasn't getting. I'd lie awake and add up all the fragments I'd gotten through the day, counting numbers. If it added up to seven, I could relax, but it often didn't. And it didn't matter, I felt awful anyway. I'd put her down for a nap and knew I should nap myself, but I was too wired. I should be doing something, I shouldn't be lazy.

Host 5:42

Anxiety. Yes, anxiety. A new term for me, or so I thought. At least it was the first time my anxiety had no end in sight. This situation we were in was not going to stop. It was for life. The body is interesting. It can't actually be in an anxious state for that long because it gets exhausted. And what came next to this day scares me, and I don't ever want to get to a place where I'm there again. Like a blanket, a weighted blanket being laid slowly and carefully over my body. I fell into a deep, dark despair. All hope was lost. Any drive to be better was gone. Everything was unimportant, useless. What was the point? The sadness, the depression was breathtaking and stifling. I remember thinking, I know now what this is. When people talk about it, I get it. It's real and it's as bad as they say. It's totally crushing me.

Host 7:14

Thankfully, there was a bit of my hyper-vigilant, anxious side left that maybe got me into this situation in the first place, but there was enough of it left to get me to a doctor. I was eight weeks postpartum by this point. I have a wonderful family doctor. She delivered Aria and she sat me down, took my baby, and let me cry. She listened. She didn't judge. She comforted me by explaining to me a million reasons why this could be happening, from hormones to quite simply adjusting to a new reality that, quite frankly, I was not prepared for. You know, they have birthing classes, how to breathe properly, what position to be in, how to change a diaper, breastfeed, but never how to stay mentally well. I went from working full-time at a creative job where my skills were being used, a day full of routine, purpose, I would exercise, eat balanced meals, I would cook. I had some social time with my husband and friends. Perfectly self-sufficient when all I had to care for was myself.

Host 8:31

Looking back, it's crazy how over time and growing up you notice what regulating factors you slowly add into your life to keep yourself safe and well regulated. You don't even know they're there until they're not, and you're hearing babies cry and counting obsessively. But my doctor didn't give me all that info. That is what I've learned now, having a few years to reflect. What she did give me was time, a listening ear, and an antidepressant. And it worked. One week later, I was nine weeks postpartum. I felt like I could breathe again. The weighted blanket of depression was slowly lifted off and the clouds parted slightly. I remember putting Aria down for a nap one day and just lying on the couch, closing my eyes and entering what felt like a meditative state. My body relaxed and my brain felt at peace. I felt incredibly heavy but so relaxed. Like I was in a coma but awake. I marveled at the experience while it was happening and how good I felt. And when I finally had the wherewithal to check the time, it had been two hours. I'd slept. I might have cried with relief. And it continued to get better. I saw a counselor and began to understand what processes I'd put in place before having a child and how I could get those back again in my new role. Physical activity and in particular group fitness with like-minded people and good music, it's always been part of my life, and it 100% kept the crazy brain at bay. And I found one with childcare. I got my hour back for myself, my happy social little baby got exposed to new people and kids. I knew it was good for her too. At the end of each day when my husband came home, 5:30, no later, I was still insistent on that, I would smile and felt like celebrating each and every day. I did it and I was okay. Actually, I was beginning to say that, hey, I was kind of good at this.

Host 10:54

The medicine helped me get off my butt even on the hardest days, and I often went to find others, either through fitness or just walking through them all. Being out, being social, being out of my house helped so much. Because as humans, we are supposed to live in community with each other, right? Like we're supposed to share the burden physically and emotionally. I began to think it is crazy that here I am alone in this house with a baby, all the various contraptions in the world to keep her entertained, and no, absolutely no support for me. Why or how did I ever think this was going to be okay? So for me, the combination of medication and connection with myself, my boundaries, and maybe most importantly, other people, like-minded people to bond with, share burdens, laugh, feel less alone, it mattered. Anyway, medication and connection, they brought me back, and I learned an important lesson that mental well-being could no longer be taken for granted. Now that I had a round-the-clock job as a parent, having my emotional needs met was not just a given. It had to be worked on daily for the rest of time. Yeah, because it never ends.

Host 12:20

Two and a half years later, I had another child, a boy, Brady, and I am very happy to say it was a wonderful experience. I went in pretty humble, scared, if I'm honest, and yeah, traumatized from the first go-round. But what I experienced was lovely. And it was very cathartic going through it all again, this time feeling confident, pride, relief, yes, that too. I love that I was able to do it again and see that it could be a different experience. That was very healing for me. Now, I want to make one thing very clear. This experience was poignant, not just because the rug had been pulled out from under me and I'd somehow stayed on my feet. And during that process in its entirety, totally shifted my perception of myself and what I was capable of. What does Shrek say? He's like an onion, he has many layers. Well, a small layer was peeled back, and I liked how that process went for me. By being vulnerable and exposing a weakness to others, I acknowledged it myself and was able to begin the process of change. This formula kind of worked, and it felt good. What? Being vulnerable felt good. Well, yeah, maybe not at first, but I liked my chances embracing vulnerability versus how many of us were taught that emotions are weakness, so avoidance is the only solution. Anyway, it changed me and set me on a new path, one that I'm still on today.

Host 14:01

So, my lived experience includes music, motherhood, mental health, and these days I clearly have a bit of a soapbox stand on. Hello podcast. When Dear Evan Hansen fell into my lap, it felt a bit like serendipity. One year ago, I learned the Kelowna Actors Studio would be including Dear Evan Hansen in its 2026 season. I knew nothing of the story at that time, but I was intrigued by a couple of the songs I'd heard. They're really good. A quick skim of the cast list told me there were not one, but two potential roles of interest. Women in their forties, moms. Okay, I can do that. Further research revealed both moms had teenage boys who shared a similar and all too familiar trait. They were outcasts. Strange. Weird. Not fitting in like you should really do when you're in high school, right? When one of the boy's assignments for his therapist becomes the mistaken suicide note for the other, and then he doesn't correct the misunderstanding because for once the attention he garners makes him feel loved and accepted and connected, the dangers and inhumanity of disconnection become abundantly clear. So honestly, I couldn't not at least try. It seemed I owed it to the universe to do something with the little nugget that had been dropped right in my lap. I mean, a musical exploring family relationships and mental health and suicide as the ultimate risk to disconnection. How could I not be part of bringing this beautiful and human story to life?

Host 15:49

So I just feel so strongly about this incredibly nuanced piece of art. It's what we all need right now. Eight local passionate performers are going to be working together over the next couple months to put on the best, most heartwarmingly authentic rendition of Dear Evan Hansen. And now you know, at least from this mom, I've got the personal experience to bring to my role, and I'm willing to bet I'm not the only one. But you know what? Let's find out. Ooh, who should we have on first?

Host 16:26

Okay, I'm going to end this story phase of the podcast, and I'm gonna leave you with a different extro today. This is a recording of one of the songs I was asked to submit for the open auditions, the initial phase. This song comes, this it's from Dear Evan Hansen, it comes near the end of the story. A very touching moment when Heidi Hansen, Evan's mother, gets vulnerable with her son, maybe for the first time. She tells him what it was like, what it was really like, when Evan's father left that day. This is so big, so small. Until next time.