Marathon of joy and stress: comedy with health problems completes the Edinburgh border

Aan hour before she was due to take the stage for the first show of her month-long Edinburgh gig, Nina Gilligan was lying in a dark room, hoping her medication would work. She had severe migraines, one of the symptoms of her chronic pain condition fibromyalgia, which affects 1 in 20 people, mostly women.

All month, on top of universal pressures – financial risk, job risk, social pressure – he has been dealing with an additional, invisible challenge.

“You can’t put a time on it. You can’t control it,” he says. So I’m lying in bed, and I know I’m going to have to rest, take more medicine on top of the medicine I’m already on, and isolate myself.

Gilligan’s migraines cause not only pain, but also temporary memory loss, leaving him slurring his words. Not good for waiting. They usually appear within three days. “You get aura symptoms, where I lose consciousness. Then a headache. Then a hangover. And it just repeats itself.”

In the event of that night, you would never know. Gilligan was radiant, sweet, and in control as she played Goldfish, a complex show that explores her fibromyalgia, memory loss, and the things she will never forget: the moments when her pain which were taken away from the hands of a man. with humor. He says he has learned to “blow” the pain.

Getting a diagnosis of his many symptoms – pain, difficulty swallowing, digestive problems, fatigue – was not easy. He encountered a lot of ignorance and disbelief from health professionals. In one show, when he talked about fibromyalgia, “A young doctor shouted: ‘It’s not real!'”

In her Square Peg show, Bella Humphries talks about symptoms that have been misdiagnosed for years. Humphries has premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD), an endocrine condition that affects up to 8% of menstruating women. During the luteal phase of her cycle, one to two weeks before her period, Humphries experiences life-threatening symptoms, from severe depression and anxiety to muscle aches and fatigue. you are extreme. He says: “I feel worried, as everyone is looking at me, and often when I wake up, I feel like I have committed a crime.”

Spending a full month in Edinburgh ensured that this would be part of her festival experience. “In the last 18 months, my PMDD got worse and worse,” she says. PMDD is not a good marriage due to stress and 18 months coincides with when I decided to quit!

Stress, along with loud noises and bright lights, can cause Gilligan’s symptoms, so there is fear. Humphries is similarly worried: “I’m away from all my support systems, things that make me feel good and protect myself.”

A year ago, Garrett Millerick felt nervous as August approached. He has been in the theater since he was 19, starting in student plays, then directing theater, then doing standup comedy. He says: “When I stopped drinking, it became this point on the calendar that I was afraid of, because it had been associated with parties all those years. I didn’t know how to deal with that.

He recorded a turnaround in his 2023 show, Never Had It So Good, and is now 18 months sober. We meet on Saturday mornings for coffee. He says: “If it was 2015, I’d be lying in bed and giving you half-assed answers. Now I’d be leaving this place confused about what I said, did I feel sorry for myself?

In 2022, worried about building a post-pandemic employment rate, Millerick was “really dependent on alcohol”. He would start with the latest beer and end up drinking 12 pints a day. “You are the most vulnerable when you get off the stage because you are full of adrenaline. Your brain says: ‘Chase higher, chase higher.’ So after the show, you have to go home. Take a shower, change, drink tea.”

It was easy to “romanticise” drinking as part of a joke. But it turns out that there have always been some sane people. A friend, who took him forward to ask for help, said to him: “There will never be a party or a bar where no one else will be able to help.” On joining a support network in the city: “Now I know sane people I can reach out to and talk to at any time.”

To protect himself, Humphries takes antidepressants, exercises regularly and avoids socializing at times, “because my social battery drains easily”. Gilligan also prioritizes rest, avoiding extra gigs to focus on his schedule: “Your energy becomes an important tool and you have to know how to use it.”

Two weeks later, we talk again. Gilligan knows the owners of a quiet cafe where he can refresh. Mercifully, his worst day came on the appointed day, but his symptoms have progressed into other symptoms. “I had a few moments where I had to stop and I couldn’t find the words,” he says.

Humphries is now in the middle of her cycle where she is full of boosting hormones, but her worst day came about a week later. But there was nothing to do with the party. Now that Humphries understands PMDD and how it affects him: “I’m not scared. Now I realize that I don’t feel like that, it’s just symptoms.”

This made it difficult to do the show, “but I still enjoy doing comedy when I feel like it, because that’s when I don’t think about anything.”

Gilligan agrees – reminiscing about enjoying every show and being in a moment where audiences of all genders are helped. When you have a chronic illness, you prioritize the things you love, and I love this job.”

Millerick stuck to his policies. “Last year, I remembered that doing standup comedy is something I love, it’s the festival. Everything else was spoiling the party for me. It took me not being completely overwhelmed to remember why I love it. I enjoyed these two games a lot more than in previous years. ” Realizing that many people with alcohol-related miscarriages have been made worse by alcohol has strengthened his faith.

All three are about human relationships. Gilligan’s son lives in Edinburgh and has cooked for him. Friends and family also supported Humphries: “I hope they know how much it means. For a long time, I dealt with it alone.” Joking about PMDD helped her “feel more in control”, she says. I still wish I didn’t have it, but it made it less scary. Hearing from audience members with PMDD, “it weighed the worst. When I felt alone, hearing people talk about it was a lifesaver.”

Millerick has had comedians show an interest in recovery, and encourages them to approach anyone who has spoken publicly about alcoholism.

Talking about sexual abuse and fibromyalgia felt “powerful” for Gilligan and many women approached her after the shows. He says: “They feel solid. Women suppress their anger and their stories, because in reality, they don’t feel like they will be believed. Don’t let the wolves make you sick.”

Humphries says: “Getting to this point, for some people, is a great achievement. There are many things that people struggle with that are far removed from this festival. ” Looking back on the fear he experienced in July, he now feels proud. “Sometimes I felt like I couldn’t do this. It took planning and dedication, but I was able to help myself.”