See Copeland’s autobiographical ‘Waiting Period’ at Piedmont arts center
One-man theater and the world in general are more profound, laughter-filled places because Brian Copeland wrapped his hands around a script instead of a gun.
After 10 tense, terrible days in 2008, the award-winning Bay Area-based actor, comedian, author, playwright, television and radio talk show host turned the experience into “The Waiting Period,” the show’s title a reference to the 10-day mandatory period he endured while waiting to acquire a gun with which to kill himself. Looking back in 2023, Copeland says in an interview that all of his one-man shows are about something in his life.
“I did 20 years of standup, which was all about laughing, straight entertainment. It was laugh, laugh, laugh and LPMs (laughs per minute). It was fun, but there was no depth to it. When I wrote ‘Not a Genuine Black Man,’ I thought that would be my only show and it was a fluke.
“I was booked for six weeks, and it exploded and ended up becoming the longest-running one-man show in Bay Area theater. I got a new career. That show was about racism, redlining, racial identity and the emotional toll to a child growing up in that environment that a person has to deal with as an adult.”
His second show was “The Waiting Period,” which is about the depression that led him 15 years ago to the brink of suicide. Copeland will perform the work Sept. 8 at the Piedmont Center for the Arts as a fundraiser for Family Sanity, a nonprofit founded by former Piedmonter Lisa Scimens that provides online mental health resources for parents of older teens and young adults.
Scimens initially contacted Copeland hoping he’d visit and give a talk about depression, but he had a different idea: “I said, ‘Heck, rather than coming to do a talk, why not do the play? Rather than talk about ‘Waiting Period,’ why don’t I just come and show ya?’ ”
Scimens was intrigued by the idea and Copeland says he is pleased to present the 70-minute show in a theater space that will allow sound effects and lighting. Afterwards, he plans to conduct a rare question-and-answer session with the audience.
“I usually don’t do that because I’m so emotionally drained (after the performance),” Copeland says. “As an actor, I’m going to one of the darkest places in my life. It’s gotta be real for me in order for it to be real to the audience.
“That’s why I generally only do the show sporadically, like once every couple of weeks. Doing the initial run of it, I was doing it every night and it was eating at my soul. The darkness started to pull me back in.”
If breaking silence to talk with someone about his depression was key to his recovery — and he says it was — hard work and establishing new self-talk habits were key components. Like many people during COVID-19 pandemic restrictions, Copeland leaned heavily on survival mechanisms to ward off waves of depression. He recorded a 2020 podcast series, “Beating the Demon,” sharing tips that helped him feel better in three-minute clips.
“The shutdown was the worst. Even people who had never dealt with depression before dealt with it as a result of being locked in their homes for a year. COVID definitely fed the beast. People told me they’d been down before but never to the depressive state where they were in the depths of despair.
“They’d felt that way for months; not being able to see their friends, to live the lives they had built. The world became incredibly small. The worst thing that could happen to depression was COVID and that shutdown.”
Coming out of the shutdown, he was agoraphobic. Entering the theater for the first time after two years, he was nauseous. Just driving on the freeway to get there had filled him with anxiety, but back on stage, he stepped into character and found his footing. Copeland says that with more people having now experienced depression, stigma about the condition remains but is fading.
“People don’t feel so embarrassed or like social pariahs because they suffer from this disease. They’re more open to discussing it. That’s the whole point of ‘Waiting Period:’ to tell someone. If I can stand up here and spill my guts to strangers, you can tell someone you’re having thoughts that are not in your best interest.”
He says his sense of urgency comes from personal experience and a conviction that silence is killing people.
“Nobody wakes up one day and out of the clear blue sky decides they’re going to shoot themselves. They’ve been making a plan for how they’re going to do it for days to weeks to months.
“If they’re able to get help and talk to somebody, it saves a lot of lives. If they’re afraid of how they’re going to be looked at or thought about or if they’re going to be committed somewhere, they keep to themselves until it’s too late.”
When the dimmer switch darkens his space, an analogy Copeland uses to describe encroaching depression, he finds someone to talk to before a complete “blackout” occurs. A daily practice he diligently maintains involves intentional gratitude.
“When I wake up, before my foot touches the floor, I have to think of three different things I’m grateful for. It’s easy to say, ‘Oh, the kids, house, job, like a mantra. The trick is to dig deep, to think of things you really are grateful for: It’s raining; I get to see my granddaughter this afternoon; my daughter came over and visited and made me laugh. It helps as a grounding mechanism.”
Unlike his shows in which each move and every word are tightly choreographed or scripted, Copeland says he is a work in progress. Among wisdom he’s gained is awareness and appreciation for how humor sweetens tragedy and drama makes laughter deeper and longer. He says the older he becomes, the more he’s aware that he’s “never done” and finds energy to pursue discovery.
As can be expected, Copeland is exceptionally busy. Until the Writers Guild of America strike slammed on the brakes, he was working with Rob Reiner and Castlerock Entertainment on a streaming version of “Not a Genuine Black Man.”
While continuing his “Copeland’s Corner” podcasts and performing “The Waiting Period,” he has written his first crime novel, “Outrage.” Published by Black Odyssey Media and slated for a May 2024 release, Copeland says his long-term plan was always to be a writer of crime fiction. Spoken by a man no longer on the brink of ending his life, the words hold the promise of a bright, tears-and-laughter future for Copeland and for all.
Lou Fancher is a freelance writer. Contact her at lou@johnsonandfancher.com.
Event tickets and info
familysanity.org/events/family-sanity-10th-anniversary-special-event