Comedian Neal Brennan shares how to quiet your inner critic
- Challenge me. "What's the biggest lie you've ever told yourself?" How spicy do you want it?
Hi, I'm Neal Brennan, and I'm a comedian. And I've worked in comedy for the last three decades? It seems like a lot, but it's true.
Biggest lie I've ever told myself? That I wasn't capable of existing or thriving on my own.
So backstory: Going to film school, working at a comedy club. Only other guy my age is Dave Chappelle. He's 18. I'm 18. He's already a great comedian. I'm working at the comedy club just at the door, and I start kind of giving people what we call "tags" in comedy—like, "Hey, maybe say this, add this line, add that line," whatever.
I did it with a bunch of people; the ones with Dave worked. We wrote a couple things together then me and Dave do "Chappelle show." Spectacularly successful and then implodes. I'm now 30, for lack of a better word, like on the street.
I had severe doubts about whether I could do it alone. I had an index card in my pocket of funny things that I'd written or done, whether they were sketches on the show or lines or whatever, of things that I'd done as a reminder that I was, had some worth.
If I felt like I was drowning or sinking, I could look at this and call off the dogs in my mind. Please send me another one, God. Thank you, God. Whoa. Pretty powerful.
Is there a voice in your head that tells you how bad you are? That says, you're selfish, you're spoiled, you're stupid. Whose voice is that? There is. It's Burgess Meredith, the guy who played Mickey in "Rocky." - 'You're training like a damn bum, you know that?' - I'm kidding.
The negative self-talk was probably my father. My dad was an alcoholic and violent. So if you have a potent enough negative figure in your life, they can just plant a seed and the thing's self-sustaining. You end up believing that you don't deserve a decent inner monologue.
I've done a lot of stuff to deal with the inner voice, to deal with just not feeling good in my consciousness. In 1999, I started going to a 12-step program based around codependency, and started taking Zoloft. I was like, "I don't want to dance, but I understand why someone would."
I tried transcranial magnetic stimulation. 'Yay!' Ketamine. That was not helpful. And then ring the bell, Ayahuasca. I went from being an atheist to I believe I have a connection to a central creation force.
And then 5-MeO-DMT buffo alvarius, widely considered the most potent psychedelic you could do. It lived up to the hype. I was so disoriented I thought I might have to kill myself, but not from depression. It was from disorientation straight up.
I had thoughts like, "Am I in God's imagination?" Too far out—let's put it that way. What I endured was almost unbearable, but I was better in my body, felt better, funnier, kinder, more loving, more apt to fall in love than I'd ever been.
Neal, when have you let go of a deeply held conviction? Right now I'm, I'm a bit on the fence about how much of life is a solo endeavor and how much is healthy to invest in people.
I was spending a lot of time in friends and energy on people who weren't reciprocating. So now I've withdrawn from a bunch of 'em. I thought there'd be this hole where they were, and there isn't.
What do you feel like you're not allowed to share? There's not a lot at this point. There's not a lot I can't share. I knew from therapy and I knew from 12-step groups you gotta tell on yourself.
So I didn't mind saying in 3 Mics that I'm a star****** 'cause it's probably the biggest character flaw I have, 'cause I was obviously using that as like a, well how bad can I be if th- give me some. And I wanted to say it so I'd stop doing it.
I think the benefit of questioning our perceptions and the stories we tell ourselves and each other makes it more bearable to be in your human experience. I've heard quotes, "My problem was I believed my own thoughts." If you just say "Maybe," more often instead of like, "******* definitely!" you might be a little better off.
My eye. Neal, what is your most consistent and greatest hope? You know, the end of a movie—they don't really do it that much anymore, but when the whole cast is hanging out at a party—I'm still hoping that there's some coronation where all my friends for from forever are there and like, "Oh my God, it's so-and-so. We never expected him and the dead dog—What are you doing here?"
I want my dad to be there. I want everyone to be better, including me, especially me. I want harmony. You know what I mean?
I want like an old, 1970s Coca-Cola commercial. I want all of humanity experiencing effortless kindness, righteousness, love, beauty, joy. And I want Chewbacca to be there.