By Josie Goldberg
Hollywood is a funny place. One minute you’re chasing an Emmy, the next you’re chasing a casting director, and before you know it, you’re chasing a psychiatrist. Darling, I’ve done enough chasing for one lifetime!
On October 27, 2026, I attended a special event presented by Aspiring Magazine, owned and led by Cynthia Hudson, its publisher and editor-in-chief, in partnership with The Hollywood Times. The evening honored General Hospital star Maurice Benard for his mental-health advocacy. Maurice has spoken openly about living with bipolar disorder. Hearing that openness made me feel less afraid to talk about my own struggles with anxiety, panic and OCD.
My story goes back to HBO’s Luck, David Milch’s series starring Dustin Hoffman.
I appeared in the pilot, and that opportunity helped me earn my SAG card. For roughly a year I was immersed in that world. David Milch even arranged and paid for my acting lessons with Julie Ariola, a Hollywood acting coach. As I recall, her clients included Jeremy Renner and performers connected with Milch’s productions, including Deadwood and NYPD Blue.
I wasn’t taking acting lessons at the neighborhood community center, darling! This felt like the big leagues. I lived in a studio apartment, worked background jobs, and poured everything into preparing. My coach urged me to build a fuller life outside acting. But I was fantasizing about my Hollywood future, and the more I wanted it, the harder it became to think about anything else.
Which brings me to the Beverly Hills Hotel in 2011. I met billionaire Mark Cuban, who bought me a few drinks. One thing led to another—but some stories are better left at the Beverly Hills Hotel! During our conversation he told me about Shark Tank. I remember thinking he was talking about something that was about to premiere. And what did I tell him? “You’re no David Milch!”
Imagine that! A billionaire was buying me drinks, and all I could think about was David Milch and HBO’s Luck. Apparently, my obsessive thoughts had a VIP pass to HBO, and even Mark Cuban couldn’t get past security!
When the Luck opportunity didn’t become the future I’d imagined, I struggled with panic and obsessive thoughts. I sought psychiatric help and was diagnosed with panic disorder. Over time I built a fuller life, with horses, work and the freedom to be my own larger-than-life personality.
Then, two years ago, I took a four-week acting workshop with Mark Teschner, the Emmy-winning casting director of General Hospital. Memorizing scripted lines didn’t come naturally to me. Give me a microphone and a celebrity and I can improvise all day; give me someone else’s dialogue and suddenly I’m negotiating with my own brain! But in week four, Mark wrote a scene for me—and I nailed it.
The problem? I didn’t want the workshop to end. Mark encouraged me to continue training with another coach who had HBO experience, but I wanted to stay with him, the scripts and the world I’d grown attached to. I kept asking him to rate me, whether he’d cast me, and whether I could get a couple of lines on General Hospital. I wasn’t asking to take over the show, darling. A few lines, a paycheck and health insurance sounded lovely!
Mark emphasized the craft and the competition. I kept pushing for certainty he couldn’t give. In investigative journalism, asking relentless questions can be an asset. In an acting workshop, cross-examining a casting director like he’s appearing before Congress? Not my finest hour. Things ended awkwardly, and my agent dropped me. I regret pushing those professional boundaries.
Fast-forward to the Aspiring Magazine event. I interviewed Michael E. Knight, the Emmy Award-winning actor who plays Martin Grey on General Hospital. He was kind enough to watch the video of my workshop scene and gave me a seven out of ten. Finally! After two years, I had my Hollywood report card—and a little closure.
Then I unexpectedly saw Mark Teschner for the first time in two years. Inspired by Maurice Benard’s willingness to discuss mental health, I told Mark openly that I live with anxiety and OCD. I explained that acting can bring out the worst of my anxious, obsessive thinking because the odds of landing a role feel so slim that an opportunity can seem like a matter of life and death—even though it isn’t. I apologized. My anxiety didn’t excuse my persistence, but I wanted him to understand that I hadn’t meant to disrespect him.
And there was a Hollywood twist: two years earlier, Mark had declined my request for an interview. This time he agreed to speak with me for The Hollywood Times. I was no longer there pleading for an acting part. I was there doing my job as an entertainment reporter.
Michael E. Knight gave me a seven out of ten. Mark Teschner gave me a chance to make peace with the past. And Maurice Benard’s openness helped give me the courage to be honest.
Mental health should never be something we have to hide or feel ashamed of. If Maurice Benard can openly discuss living with bipolar disorder, why should I be afraid to talk about my anxiety and OCD? We all have our struggles, darling. The important thing is recognizing them, taking responsibility for our actions, and learning to live our best lives. Having a mental-health condition doesn’t define who you are. And it certainly doesn’t mean you can’t live a fabulous life!
Thank you to Cynthia Hudson, my editor Valerie Milano, and Judy Shields for being part of such a meaningful evening.
After all these years, I’ve realized something about Hollywood. Why spend my life chasing a role when I’m already living a fabulous life? I’m living my dream, interviewing celebrities, investigating stories, creating my own content and building Spoiled and Entitled. The best part? I get to be me.
Of course, I hope to earn more money and find even greater success. But I want success that lets me be myself. I don’t think I was ever meant to be somebody else.
I’m not walking away from Hollywood, darling. I’m just done chasing it. Why did I have an audition to play a character when I was born to BE the character?
ONLY JOSIE KNOWS!
