It took me a while to figure this out, but over the course of a few weeks it came to me. I would read scripts, filter out the ones I liked, weigh the salary against the time commitment, and choose what movies to accept. I’d go out with friends for drinks sometimes, do a little pot, then come home and sleep it off. I’d go out to parties, give speeches at benefits, talk to the press. But something was wrong inside.

Once I allowed myself to be honest and stop filtering the ideas and emotions I was experiencing, it became clear: I hated my life. Well, save for the acting; that was the best part. But being an actor isn’t like being a janitor or a lawyer or a secretary or a salesperson; you don’t get to just do your job for a while and then stop. You’re doing your job 24/7. You’re famous all the time. Out at lunch, on the way home, at three in the morning; if someone sees me out, they don’t see a guy crossing the street; they see Jack Harrington, the Movie Star—“Quick, go see if he’ll sign your T-shirt!”

I wondered what my life would be like thirty years from now. What would it have all amounted to? So I’d made a bunch of movies and some TV shows—so what? Was that an acceptable use of a life?

I didn’t know if it was or not. On one hand, it was a heck of a lot better than being a drain on society and not doing anything. But on the other hand, I wasn’t saving lives or fighting for justice. I was making millions of dollars to pretend to be someone else so people could go to ridiculously overpriced theatres and spend ten bucks to laugh or cry or get scared or whatever. That was the point of my life: to be someone else. I couldn’t even be me.

This started to bother me. I started looking for ways I could make my life more worthwhile, something to justify taking another breath and using up precious oxygen. I started working with more volunteer programs, squeezing them in between projects and parties. I started giving away more money to the causes I supported and to others that I didn’t really understand but sounded good. I started going to protests with other Hollywood do-gooders to save trees and things. I wanted to ensure that, when I died, people would remember me for something else besides being an actor who amassed millions for being good at playing pretend.