Gary Gulman: The Great Depresh (2019) - full transcript

Gary Gulman offers candid reflections on his struggles with depression through stand-up and short documentary interludes that provide insight into his mental health journey.

Dear God,
today is going to be big.

The most-watched
daytime service of the year.

Some people don't know how
to be rich

and still act like
a human being.

Stacy, this cortado is yucky,
get it out of here.

Gemstones are an absolute
disgrace to all ministries.

Let's go get our money.

- Ooh.
- What?

Daddy, you just threw Jesus
across the room.

It was a karate person.

No, that was Jesus.



I better sit.

- Hey, bye, Ma.
- Have a good time, Gar.

Come on!

♪ I'll say goodbye ♪

♪ To all my sorrow ♪

♪ And by tomorrow ♪

♪ I'll be on my way ♪

♪ I guess the Lord must be ♪

♪ In New York City ♪

♪ I'm so tired ♪

♪ Of getting nowhere ♪

♪ Seeing my prayers
going unanswered ♪

♪ I guess the Lord must be ♪

♪ In New York City ♪



♪ Well, here I am, Lord ♪

♪ Knocking at your back door ♪

♪ Ain't it wonderful ♪

♪ To be ♪

♪ Where I've always
wanted to be ♪

♪ For the first time,
I'll breathe free ♪

♪ Here in New York City ♪

♪ Oh-oh-oh… ♪

Ladies and gentlemen,
Gary Gulman!

Oh…

You came.

You actually came.

Thank you.

It… phew… was
a long time since

I shot my last special,
like, over four years, and…

The reason was is that I got…

I got very sick
with "the depresh."

Severe, just
crippling depression

and anxiety,
about two springs ago.

My wife, Sadé…

Not the Sadé.

A Sadé, my Sadé.

She said, "Gary,

all you were doing

was crying and sleeping."

And I get so defensive.
I always say,

"I also watched
Better Call Saul."

"I wish you would paint
a more accurate picture

"of what was going on
for one hour a week,

for 10 consecutive weeks,
I pulled it together."

But yes, I was
sleeping and crying.

I was so sick.

I couldn't perform at all.

I would bite my lip,
until it bled, from anxiety.

I was shaking all the time.

My voice was so stressed,
I couldn't really talk.

I couldn't stand for
more than five minutes,

I was so fatigued all the time.

I had to cancel all my shows

for months, and…

I was contemplating
retiring from comedy.

And then I, I thought
about it some,

and realized that retirement

is a bit pretentious…

…for what was going on.

Like… Johnny Carson retired.

Michael Jordan retired.

Gary Gulman, you're giving up.

Also, the word
"retirement" implies

that you've accumulated
some kind of

nest egg over the years…

…and that was not the case.

I was going to have to continue

working to earn money,

and one of the requirements

was that it be less stressful

than a job that requires

no more than an hour
of my day…

…and allows me to sleep

up until about 7:30 p.m.

So, I wasn't able to work,

and I had a lot of
free time to reflect.

And one of the things I kept thinking about
was when did this… when did this start?

How long have I had depression
and anxiety?

And while I'll say that I've had a number of episodes over the years,

none lasted as long as this one,

none was as severe as this one,

none left me as hopeless
as this one.

But I can go back
to being a child—

They say that— most
experts will tell you that

a lot of depression and
anxiety starts in childhood,

and I can… I can attest to that.
That was case with me.

I grew up in the '70s and '80s,

and, um, ugh,
as a sensitive boy,

not a very accommodating time

for sensitive boys.

Like, I really admire
and envy millennials.

They're so much nicer
to each other than we were.

Bullies were rampant
when I was growing up,

and, millennials,
your stance on bullying is to be commended.

I have a theory on why millennials are so
much nicer to each other than we were,

and it's that millennials grew up much better hydrated than we did.

Water just was not a consideration when I was growing up.

And I'm not one of these
middle-aged men

who'll come up here and say,
"We didn't even need water!"

We needed it desperately.

We walked around the decade,
dizzy and listless.

We needed water.

But in my house growing up,

in the refrigerator,
all we had, pretty much,

was whole milk and Tab.

I wouldn't get my first sip

of real, pure water
until Thursday.

Thursday was gym day,

and the entire
experience was fraught…

…perilous.

Because water pressure

in 1970s public schools

was so weak,

you had to make love
to the drinking fountain.

But if you got that close,
it tempted the cretin behind you…

…to smash your skull
into the iron spout,

which was considered
a prank in 1978.

Now it's rightfully
classified as felony assault.

But back then, it was
just boys will be boys.

The teacher wouldn't even
interrupt her countdown,

which was necessary because

budget cuts in the '70s

caused classroom sizes to swell.

Classrooms were enormous,
so the teacher would have to limit

your quench… with this.

"One Missippi, two Missippi,
three Missippi, next."

And I would protest.

I would become outraged,
and I would say something.

I was very precocious
when I was a little kid.

I think you would've loved me.

I remember I would finish my sip
under so much pressure.

This, but also, it's like,
I need to get my water for the week…

…in three Missippi or less.

It was daunting.

And I would finish my sip,
I would collect my teeth…

…and I would say,
"Mrs. McNally."

That's her real last name.

Oh, I will protect
her no longer.

Mrs. McNally,
it is not Missippi.

It's Mississippi.

You're costing me an entire
syllable of hydration

with your pidgin English!

But you want to know
something, Mrs. M?

How appropriate,
how apt…

…that you use
Mississippi to carry out

your unjust
drinking fountain policy.

That—

Now, that's precocious.
To have that firm a grasp

of Jim Crow legal doctrine
at seven.

But millennials, they're just

much more accepting
of each other.

They feel safe
around each other.

Accepting, they're accepting of

non-conforming gender
roles and identities,

and, oh…

I grew up at a time,
the definition of manhood was so narrow.

You were either Clint Eastwood,
or you were Richard Simmons.

There was nothing in between.

There were no Paul Rudds…

…no kind-eyed Mark Ruffalos.

You had to be so hard!

And millennials, they're
so accepting of each other,

and they feel safe
coming out to each other

in high school,
even junior high.

I have to be honest
with you. In 1987,

I didn't feel safe
ordering a Sprite.

This will sound nuts,
but Sprite,

amongst the men of my community,

was considered
a woman's beverage.

Why? How?

Because it's translucent
like lingerie?

I've never been able
to figure out—

Also, the word sprite

is a synonym for woodland pixie.

I remember
going on a field trip,

and on the bus ride home,

we stopped off
at a fast-food restaurant,

and I ordered a Sprite,
like a fool…

…in front of everybody.

And this bully, he came up to me

as I was drinking in front
of everyone, and he said,

"Enjoying your
fairy juice, fairy?"

And I was, yes, mortified,

but also, at the same time,

so confused as to how a bully

could be that conversant
in A Midsummer Night's Dream.

I was kind of a lonely kid.

I think the best way
to picture my childhood

was think of Charlie Brown

had Snoopy died.

Oh, I love this.

- Yeah.
- Are you filming me now?

- Yeah.
- Oh, please.

Just a minute.

Oh my God,
I love that picture.

- Yeah.
- Oh, Gary is…

- so happy.
- Yeah, these were really good pictures.

- It's like going down memory lane.
- Yeah.

I don't think
he remembers these.

Wow.

He hasn't seen these…

- No.
- …A long time.

And here's the first night that I ever did, um…

The first night
I ever did stand-up

- at Nick's Comedy Stop.
- Oh.

- Was it at Nick's?
- Yeah.

Wasn't it at that little
place in Cambridge, Gary?

- Um…
- With the showered screen like…

Remember… No?

- No.
- You went to Nick's?

Yes!

So, you don't that he was

- depressed as a kid or—
- No.

Absolutely not.

Nope. A happier kid
you couldn't find.

Always had a smile on his face.

Aw…

See how happy he was?

I mean, come on.

This is a book I wrote
in second grade.

It was called The Lonely Tree,
and it was, um…

To anybody with a,
just a small amount of psychology knowledge,

you would know this was
a cry for help.

- That it was an allegory for a lonely, sad…
- I didn't know.

See, the tree was being teased
by the animals in the forest.

And it cried and it grew,
and it became beautiful

and became
the Christmas tree in the city,

and…
it grew from tears.

Happy-go-lucky kid.

You see him.

You see how he smiles and happy.

Well, that's the way
he always was.

So, how could I detect anything?

I mean it.
It's so hard to tell.

Such an insidious

disease, um, depression,

and loneliness,
loneliness sets in with it.

Not easy.

It's so sad.

The Lonely Tree.

- But it—
- But when you think of it…

- Mm.
- …The tree alone,

lonely.

- Oh my God.
- When you think about it, yeah.

So, I was big.

I was big, and I was
sensitive and soft growing up.

And when you were big back then,

you were encouraged/harassed

into playing sports.

And I didn't want to play
the footballs,

the hockeys, the contact sports.

That was not for me.

I fell in love with basketball,
almost immediately, because…

because basketball just fits my personality,
it still does.

Basketball is the only sport
you can practice by yourself.

I…

spent a lot of time practicing basketball by myself.

And basketball also fits me
because it's the only sport

where if somebody
so much as slaps you

on the wrist,
they stop the game.

Stop the game,
separate everyone,

and let you make
two easy shots

while everyone else is
forced to watch quietly.

As if to say,
"Think about what you did."

And I was— Oh, I was automatic
from the free throw line

because free throw shooting
is a direct function

of childhood loneliness.

I have this carnival skill.

If you tell me you were a good
high school free throw shooter,

you can give me your high school
free throw shooting percentage,

and I can tell you what time your single mother got home from work.

I shot 94 % my senior year.

My mother was
a night court bailiff.

The trouble with
my basketball career was that…

I felt horrible about myself.

I hated myself.

And I had it in my head that—

and this is classic
depressive thinking—

I hate myself. If I work
really hard at something

and get great at it,

then I will feel really
good about myself.

I love basketball players.

I'll get really
good at basketball,

and then I'll feel
good about myself.

But it doesn't work that way,
and it put so much pressure

on my basketball career,
and I was so devoted.

I made the junior high team,
and I was captain.

And before the season started,
we had a scrimmage game

against my synagogue.

I also played on
the synagogue team, and…

unfortunately, the synagogue team was not quite as stacked…

…as the junior high team.

And so, the coach, in order
to… even out the teams,

he suggested I play
with my people.

And I remember thinking,
"Oh no. This is—

I'm gonna put so much pressure
on myself," and I did.

I thought, "I'm not just playing
for the synagogue.

I'm playing for Yahweh."

I'm playing for
the synagogue, my rabbi.

I'm carrying this religion.

And I went out there
and I choked.

I went "oh for chai."

Chai is 18 in Hebrew,

and it would take the rest of
the show to explain to you why,

but I couldn't make a shot,

and we got crushed.

And I went home and I was inconsolable,
I was devastated.

I felt, I've let down
every Jewish person.

I have let down Sandy Koufax,
and Dolph Schayes,

and Garry Shandling,
and Bugs Bunny.

Every Jew…

…I have let down.

And I remember I was devastated
because I thought

"Not only am I never gonna be
a great basketball player,

I'm gonna hate myself
for the rest of my life."

And I went into my
mother's medicine cabinet,

and she had this bottle
of sleeping pills.

And I opened them up,
and I poured them into my hand.

And, thank God,
as I looked at them,

I thought to myself, "You know,
my mom is not much of a housekeeper.

And these feel old."

Like, maybe
I'm misremembering this,

but I remember them,
I was like, "These are rusty."

And it didn't have
a childproof cap.

It had a cork.

And I remember the thinking,

it was, "If I take these and they don't work,
we're broke.

"There's going to be an ambulance,
an emergency room visit.

My mother is going to kill me."

So, I put the cork
back in there,

and I put them back
in the medicine cabinet,

and I just went on
suffering silently,

which was the only thing
you could do back then.

The only antidepressants
we had access to

in the 1970s and '80s
pretty much was,

"Snap out of it…"

…and "What have you got
to be depressed about?"

That was the second leading
brand of antidepressant.

And so, I just…
suffered in silence.

And the other thing is,
millennials have a much healthier attitude

towards sports
than we had growing up.

Like, I grew up
with the expression:

"Winning isn't everything.
It's the only thing."

Which is so easy
to poke a hole in.

It's the only thing, really?

What about…

collage?

Collage is a thing

and infinitely more relaxing
than winning, honestly.

And it's interesting because millennials take so much flak,

so much guff.

Flak as well as guff.

I don't know which
irritates me more,

the flak or the guff.

From middle-aged men

talking about
participation trophies.

Their argument is, "How are
they gonna learn how to lose?

How are they gonna
learn how to lose?"

Oh, they'll get some practice.

You familiar at all with life?

Oh, it's mostly losing!

My 20s? Oh, losing streak
that would embarrass the Browns.

Cleveland and Charlie!

Give them
a participation trophy.

They deserve it.
They're putting down

the most exciting video
games in the history

of zeros and ones
for three hours

to play Little
League Baseball,

a more boring version
of Major League Baseball.

I…

I love Major League Baseball

because I was
indoctrinated very young.

But there's so much downtime

in a Major League Baseball game.

You can do your taxes during
a Major League Baseball game,

and coach first base.

So much downtime.

Give them a trophy.

"It's a fake trophy."

Oh, as opposed to your
real fantasy football team?

You spend 20 plus hours a week
with nine other lost souls,

pretending that you're
a football general manager.

Not a player, not a coach.

An administrator!

And you're gonna
begrudge a seven-year-old

a memento of an idyllic time?

How dare you!

And I don't feel like
I needed nor deserved

a participation trophy
growing up because,

really, there was nothing else to do besides play Little League Baseball.

I once spent an entire Sunday,

from 9:30 a.m. until dusk,

scouring my lawn
for a four-leaf clover.

Because, at seven years old,

I felt I needed some luck.

I thought, if I'm gonna
turn this ship around,

I'm going to need some
supernatural intervention.

Not realizing, of course,
in the irony of ironies,

that I would never have greater
fortune again in my life

than having the free time

to scan the grass
for a mythical weed!

It was the best of times.

What's your name again?

I'm Gary Gulman.

- The Gary Gulman.
- How far back do you guys go?

We met in 1993 at the back
of Nick's Comedy Stop,

- in Boston.
- Yep.

And then we worked together—

Dude, I remember your
first day waiting tables.

And I remember you
put the apron on,

and you went out,
you got the little notepad…

- Yeah. Right.
- …Which looks smaller in your hand.

- And your hand was shaking.
- Oh, yeah. I was shaking.

- You were so nervous.
- Yeah.

I was like, aw.

- But then we became really close and bonded…
- Yeah.

…Doing comedy at night,

that in the morning, and then…

cigars and comic books
in the afternoon.

Yeah, we'd sit there and smoke
cigars, talk comic books…

- Yeah.
- …And then comedy…

- Yeah.
- …And we would just gossip.

Yeah. Yes!

One of my favorite
people to gossip with.

I never started
telling anybody about

my mood difficulties back then.

And I didn't start
telling people

close to me until
this past year,

when I started talking
about it on stage.

I really thought I had seen
the worst of it until, like,

2017, when I went
into the hospital

and told…
told no one.

- Yeah, I didn't know that either, buddy.
- Yeah.

- I knew you said you were moving back to Boston.
- Yeah.

I got really sick
with depression

and dropped out of comedy,
dropped out of working.

I got a job as a camp counselor at a summer camp

- for teenagers.
- What the fuck? Really?

Yeah, because I was afraid
that I wasn't going to be able

to earn a living to pay my rent.

And when you're depressed,
you're catastrophizing,

- and you think…
- Yeah.

…I'm gonna be homeless,
not thinking that,

worst case, I could
live in your shed.

- Yeah.
- I mean, the way you paused

when I put out
living in your shed,

I mean, was the shed
not open to me?

No, the shed's open to you.
I was just thinking how much I would have to charge you.

'Cause I couldn't just
give it to you for free.

- I'd have to give you goals.
- Right, right.

It's funny 'cause I didn't know I had depression until a few years ago.

- Right.
- I just thought that's—

That's how
everybody is.

You get great at something,

then you feel good about
yourself, that's the reward.

And then you get great at something,
and you're like, I still feel the same.

It's also, too,
in my depression—

If I remove the depression,

- then I'm gonna remove the funny.
- Oh, yeah.

- Huge myth.
- Yeah, it's a myth.

Like, if I get married,
I'm not gonna be funny anymore.

- If I have a kid…
- Yeah.

…I'm not gonna be funny.
If I get healthy, mentally—

Any kind of contentment
is the enemy of…

Is the enemy of funny when, actually,
it's the reverse.

Yes, absolutely.

Isn't it weird though?
Why do we think that?

Why are we so old
and figuring this out?

I envy millennials.

Not just their healthier
attitude toward sports,

but their nine ESPNs.

You have nine ESPNs.

Literally.

My generation's
version of literally.

That's my one quibble
with millennials

is how you hijacked
the word "literally" from us.

Literally, a rich history—
since its inception in 1525,

it meant "actually"
or "unequivocally."

And then, around 2008,
millennials said,

"Oh no, it also
means figuratively."

Yes.

Yes, it will contain
its own antonym.

And there's nothing
you can do about it.

You don't have the energy.
You're too exhausted.

And you know what?
You've destroyed our future and buried us in debt.

It's the least you can do,
is give us "literally" for the time remaining.

Nine ESPNs.

I grew up— basically,
we had three channels.

But because television
was so mediocre,

there was only one
conflict each week.

Sunday nights at 7:00.

I had an 8 p.m. bedtime,

and at 7:00, I wanted to watch
The Wonderful World of Disney,

which was a beautiful animated—

They would show
animated Disney movies.

And it opened with
Tinkerbell flying around

Cinderella's castle,
shooting live-action fireworks

out of her animated wand,
to the tune of…

♪ When you wish upon a star ♪

♪ Makes no difference
who you are ♪

A promise that Disney
could not keep.

Historically, in America,
certain groups have had

more luck wishing
upon stars than others.

But at seven,
I couldn't disagree.

I have no idea how
that song ended

because it was always
at that point that my mother

would get up
and change the channel

from The Wonderful
World of Disney to 60 Minutes.

The exact opposite of The Wonderful World of Disney.

From…
♪ When you wish upon ♪

to…

The most sinister theme song
in television history.

That noise…,

to this day, gives me
a pit in my stomach.

Oh dear God.
Is all my homework done?

In nine hours, I'll be bullied!

And that clock, that stopwatch,
in the middle of the TV

would count down the final hour
of my glorious weekend.

And the entire show was
just inventory for nightmares.

Every feature
was just miserable.

And they were all
about Soviet aggression

and nuclear apocalypse

and…

The Soviets are coming
to blow up your toys.

And then they would
have a lighter story

kidnapped children.

There was a hysteria

over kidnapped children.

It started in 1981

when a man went
on all the TV news programs

and he claimed that

50,000 American children
a year were being abducted.

And then later on that decade,
he would recant

and say it wasn't quite 50,000.

In fact, it was
no more than 300.

He was off by… 50,000.

But the damage was done!

Nobody pays attention
to the retraction.

They only pay attention
to the initial assertion,

which was,
"You're about to go missing."

The entire nation
went into a panic.

We were traumatized.

There is not a single

person my age

who doesn't break into a sprint

whenever a van slows down.

And this will sound crazy,
but up until that time,

vans were beloved!

They were used,
almost exclusively,

to solve mysteries.

And then this man destroyed vans

and our innocence.

With information, by the way,
completely inactionable.

There was nothing we could do

with the information
that there were missing kids.

We didn't have the technology.

There was no AMBER alerts,
no text messaging,

no social media.

All we had…

was milk.

Now, that sounds made up.

But it's true. They
would put a picture…

of a missing kid

on the side of every

lunchtime milk carton,

and these doomed
waifs would stare at us

throughout our lunch,
accusingly, as if to say,

"How can you eat
at a time like this?"

"I'm at the bottom of
a well. You're eating

peanut butter
and jelly on matzo."

And I'm looking,
and I feel terrible.

I'm like, what, I'm sorry.
I'm so sorry, but…

what am I supposed
to do about it?

I'm six!

Yeah, Mrs. Burns, I'm gonna
miss music class again today.

The West Lynn Creamery
has me on another case.

Yeah, I'm just gonna
follow up on this one lead.

It's probably a dead end.

But I'll run it up the flagpole.

Getting too old for this.

Moving into this apartment

was a big step for me because

when I left New York last year,

I was in complete despair,

and I really didn't
know if I'd ever be able

to take care of myself again.

This is the apartment
I moved in a few months ago,

and…

I… still
haven't unpacked,

as you can see.

This is the view.

The light is very
important to a depressive,

so it has great light.

Of all the 600 square foot
apartments I've lived in

in New York,
this is my favorite.

I had a sick dog,

so it looks
like this entire

cabinet is just filled
with medication, but…

I only take three
of these. I take…

mirtazapine,

duloxetine.

This was just something that
was added recently to keep me

from getting ravenously hungry
in the middle of the night.

That was really, really
hard because one of these

makes you really hungry.

So, it was hard to not
gain weight during the…

during this,
and I'm very vain, so…

So that was, that was hard.

This is a collection of

great thinkers finger puppets.

Sadé, you be Mark Twain—

We have some other
cool ones though.

We've got
Harriet Tubman.

- What about Zora Neale Hurston?
- Oh, Zora Neale Hurston

- because she's from this neighborhood—
- Right, so—

All right, so
Mark Twain,

and, uh, lemme give
you a topic. The, um,

"Hey, do you think I used the
N-word enough in Huck Finn?"

"Oh my God, not enough.
I'm a writer."

"I'm an author myself.
It's not nearly enough."

"Oh, really?
Think I could…

I really enjoyed
Their Eyes Were Watching God.

- High five.
- All right, high five.

There we go. Yay.

At 17 years old, in 1988,

I was six-foot-six
and 255 pounds.

I had built a very convincing…

man-costume.

I looked like a bad, bad man.

But I was still the same inside.

I was still soft.

I was sweet. To put it
in millennial terms,

I have a Gryffindor body

but a Hufflepuff soul.

But I remember the high
school football coach

started to suggest that
I should play football.

And up until that time,

I had just said, "Well, my
mother won't let me." But then,

at six-foot-six,
255 pounds, they…

probably felt I could
overpower her.

And I went out for
the football team,

and I made it, and…

I stood out mostly because

I was just bigger than everyone.

I was six-foot-six.
The average height

of a high school football
player in Massachusetts in 1988

was maybe five-ten.

And if you weighed 200 pounds,

you were an offensive lineman.

I played tight end.

They would throw
the ball very high.

I would catch it one-handed

because the ball was so small,
and also I needed to protect

my ribs with this arm,

and then I would
try to avoid danger

for a little while,
and then dive to the ground

before anybody got
a good headshot on me.

Because one time, I got…

a helmet-to-helmet hit,

and it woke me right up.
It was…

It was exciting yet
frightening because

I got the helmet-to-helmet hit.
It sounded like a gunshot.

I went to the sidelines,

and the coaches and my
teammates were like,

"Gulman got his bell rung!

Gulman got his bell rung!"

"Bell rung." That was the sweet

euphemism we used
for what we now know

is a severe concussion.

I got my bell rung, yeah.

I don't know the nines
in the times tables,

but yes.

I'm one of the guys.

And just went back
into the game.

The concussion
protocol in 1988

was not as elaborate
as it is now.

Now, you see a doctor,
they hold you out,

you have to be
cleared to play again.

The concussion
protocol in 1988 was,

"You good?"

So, I played football
my senior year.

I made it through
the entire season.

Played in
the Thanksgiving game, and…

breathed a huge sigh of relief,

and thought, okay, nobody
can really question

my manhood after this
because I played football,

and now, I can just

drink my Sprite in peace.

What I didn't realize was that

my high school coach

had sent videos of my games

to a bunch of colleges.

And then, these college
coaches came to my high school

to recruit me to play for them.
And I wound up accepting

a scholarship to Boston College

because the head coach

of the Boston College
Eagles football team

two years prior had coached

Heisman Trophy
winner Doug Flutie.

And then two years later,

he was recruiting future
participation trophy advocate…

Gary Gulman.

And he sat in my living room

and he was just
a striking figure.

I recognized him
from television,

so there was a charisma in that.

But also, he had this
great head of black hair

and a strong jaw.
He was about six-four.

He was a man's man,

and I— Ever
since I was a little kid,

I needed to gain
the favor of man's men.

I just wanted them to
think I was a man's man.

And I am a man's man,

depending on the man.

For instance, if the man
happens to be Michael

from Michael's Arts and Crafts.

He would love me.

We would get along
famously. I love Michael's.

Oh my word, I…

I call it Classy Joann's.

Joann's is fine,
but it's always in disarray,

whereas Michael's
is always in array.

But this…

coach sat in my living room,

and I'll never forget it.
He said, "Son…"

And you call me son…

I will get right in your van.

It's like an arm around
the shoulder. He said, "Son,

I'm gonna go ahead
and offer you a scholarship."

And I remember
thinking to myself,

"I was afraid this
was gonna happen."

'Cause I knew
I had to accept it.

It was February
of my senior year.

I hadn't applied to
a single college.

I had tried, and then
I would get to the part

where they ask you
to write an essay.

Made me so anxious.

I really feel,
in some way, that…

my aversion to essays
had saved my life

again and again, because
anytime I've contemplated

suicide, I've thought,
"You gotta leave a note."

I'm not spending
the last hour of my life…

…doing something I've
dreaded throughout it.

So, I knew I was
going to accept it.

One, I hadn't applied
anywhere else.

My grades, because of my
depression and anxiety,

were… very mediocre.

My SAT scores,
very average.

This was the best school
I was gonna get into.

Also, we didn't have the money
to pay for a private college.

I wasn't going to be able
to go to as good a school

as Boston College. So,
I had to accept it,

but I also knew…

I just had this feeling
that there was a catch.

Like that he was gonna
expect me to play football.

But he was just so
convincing. He said, "Son,

"you're 17 years old,

and you have an NFL body."

And I remember
thinking to myself,

"Well, that may be true, but I—

"Oh, how I wish
I could tell you that

"no more than 10 feet
from where we're sitting,

I also have a blankie."

I had a blankie
at 17 years old!

Let me rephrase that.

I have a blankie!

It's on my pillow right now.

I can't sleep without it.
It's something doctors call

"Linus Van Pelt syndrome."

And I accepted the scholarship,

and I went to training camp,

and I trained hard
before I got there.

I got into excellent shape.

I put on another 10 pounds,
I was 265 pounds.

But I got there, and…

I just, I knew before
I even got there

I thought, yes,

against the Lilliputians,
I can stand out.

But I'm going to a place

where everybody's as big as me.

And I just— oh, these guys,

they love to hit.

And I loved

to read.

And within days,

I came undone. I remember.

I was 265 when I got there.

I couldn't eat. I lost
30 pounds in three weeks.

I was sleeping from
the moment practice ended

until it started
again the next day.

I was oversleeping
practices. I…

was so sick. I was suicidal,

and after three weeks,
I went to the trainer,

and I told him I need to quit.

I can't do this anymore.

But I explained to
him what was going on,

and thank heaven,

this guy was sharp,
and he sent me to a therapist.

This was 1989.
This was 10 years

before The Sopranos
made it cool for big men

to seek therapy.

This guy was ahead of his time.

And he sent me. He said,

"I'm excusing you
from practice.

Go meet with my friend
who's a therapist here."

And I met with him, and therapy,

oh my word. What a revelation.

Saved my life over
and over again.

Therapy, yes…

Yeah.

I still see a therapist.

I still see
a therapist.

I believe I broke
him on Monday.

Yeah, I was leaving his office,
and I was shutting the door,

and I heard him go…

But yes. Therapy,

as well as medication.
Antidepressants.

I have taken antidepressants

on and on…

…for 30 years, and

because of the nature
of antidepressants,

sometimes they don't work,

and you have to try something
else. Sometimes, they work,

and then they stop working, and
you have to try something else.

Sometimes, they work,
but they're not good enough.

You need to augment
them with something.

So, over the years,
I have tried…

Pamelor, Nortriptyline,
Wellbutrin,

Zoloft, Paxil, Abilify,

Adderall, Ativan, Klonopin,

duloxetine,
mirtazapine, sertraline,

Effexor, Celexa, Zyprexa.

At one point my doctor said,

"Let's just try
drugs that rhyme."

Thank you, Dr. Seuss.

- Sadé, you ready to go?
- Yes.

Okay.

Bye, 'Gor.

We are going to
see Dr. Friedman,

my psychiatrist,

and Sadé always comes with me

to the sessions.

She's really
the MVP of my story.

You know, way back,
in the very beginning,

when you were
really depressed,

you were just as
Sadé is describing.

You know, not just sad

and feeling critical
about yourself,

but very, very anxious.

And you were crying
and you felt,

you know,
inconsolable.

And then that's when I said,

- I think you need to come into the hospital.
- Right.

It was very disturbing
and heartbreaking to watch

because there
was no point when

your eyes were open that
you weren't in pain.

And I didn't know how to help.

Was there a time

that you had
told me about,

and I can't remember
it, where…

where you said I was
speaking gibberish?

Yeah. It's…

You couldn't
think straight.

When you were
very agitated,

you would
try to

to just keep a coherent
thought together,

and you
couldn't.

It was very disturb—

I don't think you
remember at all,

but you don't remember,
and I remember all of it.

- You don't remember any of?
- Well, it…

as I'm hearing it…

I don't…

it sounds like it happened
to somebody else.

Did you ever worry
that, you know,

when you were feeling
at your worst,

that you would not get better?

I was convinced
that I would not.

- I would not get better…
- And so was I.

Well, I have to say,

you were a good
actress then.

Because you were consistently
supportive of him.

And if you did feel hopeless,
it wasn't obvious.

Because I knew there was so
much out there being done.

Even though it seemed
like such a long road.

I always knew that there
was something next.

Whenever I tell people that
I take antidepressants,

their biggest question is,
"What about the side effects?

"Aren't you concerned
with the side effects?

"I always hear about
the side effects.

I read the side effects."

The side effects…
of the drugs?

Oh, those don't
bother me at all.

No. No, the only side
effect that concerns me

are the side effects
of depression.

One of the more troublesome…

…side effects
of depression is

death.

I'll take dry mouth…

…over death.

I can sip water, chew gum,

go like this every
once in a while.

I know of only one Jew

who's overcome death.

They call it suicide,

but I feel like that word

is incomplete. I think

they should call it
death from depression,

not suicide.

So, I'll take any
of the side effects.

Hair loss, dizziness,
blurred vision,

muscle aches, joint aches,

diarrhea.

Of course.

Diarrhea is so much
more productive

than depression.

I can get out of
bed with diarrhea.

"What about impotence?"
Impotence?

Oh yeah. I was
having so much sex

in the fetal position!

Yes, give me impotence.

What do you mean, more
impotence? Yes, I will take…

I will take diarrhea
and impotence

simultaneously…

…if I can smile at a sunset?

I will stand there,
in my soiled underwear,

and flaccidly grin ear-to-ear.

Because when I'm
in my right mind,

a sunset is justification
for existence.

And when I'm depressed,

I look at a sunset and I think,

"Yeah, you gave up, too?"

Five p.m. in the winter,
I get it.

I'm ready to call it
a day. I feel you, sun.

Over the years, I've tried all

the antidepressants.

I've taken them

on-label, off-label,

off-legal.

I won't say it was
illegal what I did,

but I took something
called ketamine.

Jesus!

Ketamine

is a horse tranquilizer…

…in a very large dose,

but in a microdose, ketamine

is one of the most effective

antidepressants, and,
more importantly,

anti-suicidal medications.

The problem was
when I needed it,

it was not available… easily.

I had to go to a doctor,

one doctor in New York City
who was licensed

to give you a ketamine infusion,

and it was $800 because
it wasn't covered…

by insurance. So,
it was $800 a visit,

and worth every penny.

Oh, for an hour every other day,

I felt like myself. I smiled.

I enjoyed things.
It was remarkable.

The problem was is that
it's supposed to work

after you leave the office,

and in most cases,
it does, but in my case,

it didn't work after
I left the office.

And I remember the doctor
said, "I'm really sorry.

I can't take your
money anymore."

Which was so confusing…

"No, I have more money."

He says, "I can't take it."
I went back a couple of times

dressed as a horse.

But I feel like he
recognized my voice.

And then, I…

had a choice to make, and I
discussed it with my doctor,

and with Sadé,
and my friend Amy,

- who is here tonight—
- Woo!

And yeah…

And she was…

It's so interesting how

some people only tell you
after the storm is over

how big the waves were.

But Amy was very
honest with me.

Like, I had one friend
three years ago.

He said, "The last
time I saw you,

I thought was going to be
the last time I saw you."

And, I remember thinking,

"Oh man, I would've liked
to have known that."

I get it,

but gee whiz!

But I remember Amy
said to me, she said…

"You've got four years."

Yeah, and it sunk in.

And so, we discussed
it, and I went

into the hospital,
into the psych ward,

and I was terrified
because, unfortunately,

pop culture has
given us an image

of the psych ward

that is so dangerous
and so frightening.

But I can tell you,
I was there for three weeks.

It was a very
ordinary experience.

It was, I was
fortunate in some ways,

but it was really
the average experience

because I didn't go
to a private hospital.

It was covered by my insurance.

And there were men and women,

poor people, rich people.

It was such a diverse group.

And I think I had,
pretty much,

the average experience
in the hospital.

One very fortunate
thing was that

I got recognized within a half
hour of turning in my belt.

Another patient came up to me,

and I'll never forget it.

He said, "Excuse me, I'm
really sorry to bother you."

He was so sweet. He said,
"Are you Gary Gulman,

or am I crazy?"

And I laughed,

and I hadn't laughed in
months at that point.

I probably hadn't
cracked a smile.

But he said, "Am I crazy?"

And I laughed. Are you cr—

Yes! Yes!

But only getting that
from the context.

It's 6:30 p.m.,
we're in pajamas.

But I am Gary Gulman.

The good news is
I'm Gary Gulman.

The bad news is your
self-esteem is so low,

you felt the best
you could hallucinate

was Gary Gulman.

I hear a lot of people
come out of the psych ward,

and they say something
to the effect of,

"within a few days,
I realized that

"those people really had it
much worse off than I did.

"And I felt better
about my condition,

and I left early."

And I remember sitting
in art therapy one day,

and thinking to myself,
"This feels just about right."

My finger paintings are as dark

as anyone's in here.

It was very ordinary.

I can't really
think of too much

that was out of the ordinary.

The first night
when I went to call

Sadé on the payphone,

the cord…

to the payphone was,

like, the length
of a candlewick.

I remember being so confused.

I thought, why is the cord,

why am I bent over? I haven't
used a payphone in a long time,

but I don't remember
the cord being this shor—

Oh, that's right,
I'm crazy. Okay. All right.

And then, I remember,
I said to the nurse, I said,

"Can you take it out? 'Cause
I'm just calling my wife.

Then you can take it back
in when I call my mother."

You know, the reason
we're all here.

My mother.

I love her, but even when I'm
not on the phone with her,

sometimes I'll hear her voice.

Like, whenever
I spend lavishly.

Like, I got room
service the other night

because I got back to
the hotel after my show

and all the restaurants
were closed,

and I was hungry and…

I don't need to
justify it to you.

And I could hear my mother.

"Oh, Gary's getting
room service."

"Excuse me!

"Mr. Big Shot. Must be nice!

Must be nice!"

That's how my mother
says congratulations.

"Must be nice!"

Or I ran 10 miles the other
day and I told my mother,

and she said, "Oh, good for
you. How long is a marathon?"

Twenty-six.
"Twenty-six-point-two!"

If you knew down to a tenth
of a mile how long it was,

why did you ask me?
"Well, I wanted you to

internalize your mediocrity."

So, I've been
working on a piece

that I'm gonna try out for
the first time tonight.

Yeah, and I'm anxious
about it, and…

but it… excited.

The hardest thing to
talk about on stage

and the thing that people have

the least understanding
about and the least

information and knowledge,
and the scariest thing

is about
the treatment that I had.

And I'm only comfortable
talking about it now

because I have come
out the other side.

I have no idea how
this is going to go.

Much like the first time
I ever did stand-up comedy.

I had no idea how
the jokes were going to go.

I mean, I was anxious
before I got here.

As I was getting coffee,

I kept thinking, is it
possible that this subject

isn't even funny? It's not…
Like, all my observations

come from a place
of recognition.

It's like, that's,
this is so obscure.

This is so obscure.

Everybody make a lot of
noise for Gary Gulman.

Thank you! Thanks so much.

2017 was…

the best 2017 was Chris Pine.

He was Captain Kirk
in Star Trek

and the love interest
in Wonder Woman.

Yes!

Let's compare it to my 2017.

I, um, I spent

three weeks in the psych ward.

All right, so…

I lied for a long time about
why I was in the hospital.

I would tell people

that I went there to
adjust my medication,

which if you know how health
insurance works, that's…

that's not done.

But I was ashamed

and I was concerned
about people's reactions

to the real reason
I was in the hospital.

And the reason I went
into the hospital was

because my psychiatrist

is an advocate for, and an
expert in, something called

electroconvulsive therapy.

Which used to be called
electroshock therapy,

but they felt
electroshock was not

quite horrifying enough.

They said, yes,
electroshock is disturbing,

but I feel like
we're soft-selling

the convulsions.

Yes, the writhing.
If we could

underscore the writhing,

make that the centerpiece,

I feel like we could
really weed out the sissies

and the mama's boys.

Electroconvulsive therapy,

ECT as it's always called now,

it has a very bad
branding problem.

Even electroshock

to electroconvulsive is,
at best, a lateral move.

And, again, pop culture has

ruined the reputation of this

because of one movie.

One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest,
the most disturbing scene

in the most disturbing movie.

Jack Nicholson is held
down by a dozen orderlies

as they put electrodes
up to his temples

and mock-execute him.

He's writhing in pain.

And I just have to tell you,

it's not done like that anymore.

It's not. They give you

a general anesthesia
and a muscle relaxer,

and it's delightful.

The anesthesiologist
would say,

"Now Gary,
count down from 10."

And I never once
got past "Nuh."

And not the nuh in nine.

The nuh in 10.

It put me out.

I felt nothing.
I remember nothing from it.

I finished up an hour later.

I would come to in
the recovery room.

About 15 minutes later,

I was back upstairs
watching The Office

with my best friend
and biggest fan.

We would watch
The Office every day,

and one day, I felt very
comfortable with him

one day, and I said,

and this is true. I said,
"Did you know that I auditioned

"for the role of Jim when
they were casting it?

Long ago, I auditioned
for the role of Jim."

And this was so sweet. He says,

"Did you get it?"

I haven't heard back yet…

But the other thing they
don't tell you about ECT

is that it's considered
the gold standard

in treating treatment-
resistant depression.

It's very effective,

and it works very quickly,

and it works well.

I was so anxious,

I was shaking all
the time, biting my lip.

Within three
treatments, one week,

all my anxiety went away.

Within about 10
treatments, the depression

started to lift.
I felt a little bit

better, and I was released
from the hospital.

The timing was an issue

because my lease was up in
my New York City apartment,

and I didn't have the energy

nor the will to look for
a new New York City apartment,

and to pack and to move.

I thought it might set
me back, so I decided,

and discussed it with
Sadé and my doctor,

I decided to move
back to my home town

in Massachusetts,
and, this is wild,

I moved back into the exact
same house I grew up in.

And coincidence
of coincidences,

my mother still lived there.

I moved back into my
childhood bedroom.

And the timing…

I got an invitation to
my 25th college reunion,

and it had an invitation,

and then a request
for a donation

of $1,000 or more.

And I remember thinking,

"do you not realize you sent
this to the exact same address

you sent my acceptance letter?"

You think there's $1,000
rolling around?

And you think I want to go?

Knowing what I've
made of myself?

I'm back where I started!

And I remember thinking,
there's no way I'm going to this

because, at that point,
I was so sick of lying

about how I felt

to make other people less
uncomfortable around me,

and that's… People
lie at their reunions

even if they're doing well,

and I just don't want
to continue lying.

What, I'm gonna tell the truth?
"Hey, what you been up to?"

Well, I'm allowed
around belts again!

These are laces in my shoes,

and my socks don't have
any treads on them!

And I thought, there's
no way I'm going to this.

But then,

luckily, I said no.

All you've been doing
is isolating for years.

You need to get of the house.
You should go to this.

Just go for an hour, and if
you're having a good time,

stay. And, I must say,

one of the best moves I made

in my recovery was
going to that reunion

because I reconnected with
people I hadn't seen in years.

We made plans,
I made appointments,

and I started to…

incrementally improve.

And part of it, I know,

was the getting out of the house, and,
studies have shown,

that those interactions with
other people, even if it's just

at the grocery store,
at the Starbucks,

it increases
the level of serotonin

and dopamine in your brain.

And I would go and I would
feel a little bit better

for a little while,
and it was so helpful.

And I just started to be able
to exercise a little bit,

a walk around the block.

I started to be able to
eat a little bit better,

and I started to do a little
bit of stand-up comedy,

but it was so obvious
that I was sick

that I had to acknowledge it.
I had to open up about

my suffering.
And I found that

I got such incredible
feedback on that from people

after the show,
and I realized something.

If you are suffering
from a mental illness,

I promise you,
you are not alone.

You are not alone.

Oh no, no, no. I'm
sorry. You are alone.

You are alone,

but only because you can't
leave the house today.

But you should.

It will— it well help.

At the very least,
it will distract you

from those critical ruminations

that are a big part of
depression and anxiety.

And then maybe, you can do
a little bit more, slowly.

You have to just be patient

because there is hope.

I can't stress that enough.

I was ready to give up so
many times, but there is…

And I never thought,
I am so glad,

are you kidding me?
That I stuck around for this?

Oh…

I'm just so grateful
because I was so sick.

When I went into the hospital,
I was sleeping every day

until at least six p.m.

And you're being generous.
You're giving me the benefit of the doubt.

"Oh, you went to
bed really late."

Ten.

I was getting a solid 19.

And I wouldn't
wake up refreshed.

I would wake up
groggy and hopeless.

And then if I did a show
and got through a day,

I would reward myself

by getting a pint of ice cream.

And I would always
say to myself,

"Just eat half the pint."

But invariably,

I have this like
obsessive compulsion

where I need to leave
a flat surface…

For who, the day crew?

But I would keep
eating it flat.

And then I'd come across
a chocolate chunk,

and I need to excavate that,

and that leaves a pothole,

so I gotta smooth that over.

Then it starts to melt
along the perimeter,

and that's gelato.
You can't let that go to waste.

And before I know it,
I'd hit bottom.

Literally
and millennial literally.

And I would just say,
"Just finish it, Gar.

Just finish it."
And I would finish it.

And I would put the fork down.

More times than not, I would
eat ice cream with a fork.

Which is like an unofficial
symptom of depression.

People say, well, why does
that mean you're depressed?

It may not. But it does mean,

at least, that you did
not possess the zest

to wash a spoon.

People would say, why don't
you just wash a spoon?

Why don't I shower?

I didn't have the energy.

But if I see fork prints
in your ice cream, oh,

fork prints in ice cream

are evidence of a life in chaos.

I can extrapolate
your entire home

from fork prints in ice cream.

I don't need to go
into your bathroom.

I know that the new
roll of toilet paper

is resting on
the empty spool.

It's the only household chore

we can do whilst
sitting on the toilet…

and I'm thinking,
"Pfft, not today."

I know you need to do laundry.

Depressed people hate laundry.

So many steps.

Separate the laundry.
Put it in the wash.

Take it out of the wash.
Put it in the dryer.

Take it out of the dryer.
Put it in the laundry bag.

Dump the laundry bag on the bed

and sleep around
it for two days.

I put it on, it's all wrinkled.

What am I gonna do, iron?

I haven't touched
an iron since Monopoly.

But I know my
depresh is in remish

because I ironed this.

And also…

Also, I have flossed
19 days in a row.

I get out of bed,

and some days are
a little bit more difficult

than others. Never as
bad as it as it was,

but some days it's hard
to get out of bed and…

People say, "Why is it
hard to get out of bed?"

I think I know why.
This is my theory.

The thing they don't
tell you about life

when you're growing up is this.

Life, mm?

It's every single day.

Thank you.

♪ I want to be your rock ♪

♪ Your Saturday cartoon ♪

♪ I want to be the jam ♪

♪ Your peanut butter, too ♪

♪ I want to be the skin ♪

♪ Of your favorite tattoo ♪

♪ Just to be the man ♪

♪ I never was to you ♪

♪ Some days you'll feel great ♪

♪ Somedays you'll feel so low ♪

♪ Don't let your sorrows ♪

♪ Drown in tomorrows ♪

♪ And take it as it goes ♪

♪ I want to be the vase ♪

♪ Of your favorite bouquet ♪

♪ I want to be the pill ♪

♪ That gets you
through your day ♪

♪ Don't let your sorrows ♪

♪ Drown your tomorrows ♪

♪ And take it as it goes ♪

♪ Take it as it goes ♪

♪ Take it as it goes ♪

♪ Take as it goes ♪