I made a sitcom for nothing

I had a career in comedy for about two years. After working for nothing for about the same amount of time in community radio, my friends and I got our big break, taking part in a pilot for Australia's ABC-TV, and getting a gig on Radio National. I also started writing, on my own, for a mainstream comedy show on a commercial network. But it started to unravel almost as soon as it began. The list of disasters is fairly long, and we had no control over any of it: a first-time director who didn't bother to tell us he didn't understand any of our jokes, and then proceeded to edit the punchlines out of all our filmed material (there was no opportunity to re-cut); an incredibly toxic environment in the TV writers' room, in which I, the only female writer among an 18-strong team, faced sexual harassment from three writers, one of whom was my boss; strong resistance from fellow female performers who used their influence to discourage producers from hiring me, reasoning that there were not enough female parts to go around; and finally a whispering campaign, started by a writer who had a personal issue with me, telling everyone I was 'difficult'.

I think it was the sexual harassment that finally pushed me to break down, compounded by the fact that the one doing the harassing was someone I respected and liked. At 27, I was finished, washed up. It took years to wade through the depression and total lack of interest in anything. I was still young, and I thought, I'll get over it, and something else will come up. Yet here I am, 25 years later, still grappling with it. It blew a huge hole in my life, and I often think of how my life would have been if I had never walked into that writers' room. When #metoo happened, it helped me because I heard stories similar to my own, and I realised how massive the problem was. But at the time it was me alone in a room, and there was no one to talk to about it. It was just me, and I had failed horribly at the thing I wanted more than anything in the world.

So, around 2010, penniless as always but with a secure home environment, having met my husband on Glastonbury Tor in 2002, and given birth to my daughter in 2004, the idea of making some comedy popped up. There had been no youtube when I was starting out - we made radio comedy, literally cutting and pasting the tape together to put our sketches together. I had submitted my script to a couple of places, with no success, and it seemed like the only logical next step to just gather some people together, get a camera and shoot it. Of course it would be technically appalling, but I managed to get at least one trained actor to join in, and a couple of natural performers, and I felt the writing was OK. The editing would be key, and sloppy as I was, having never done it before, I managed to get the action and dialogue into a rhythm I was happy with.

We managed five episodes of about 15 minutes each. I see this now as nothing less than a miracle. During the filming of almost every episode, I had to completely give up halfway through, give it to the universe, as I could not make any progress. People were not available, people forgot to turn up, I could not get answers to my texts, I could not get someone to hold the camera. But then somehow it would get going again, and I would be able to film the remaining scenes.

I was glad I did it initially, of course, shoddy as it was, it worked for me, I got my point across, the jokes landed (for the most part), and it made me laugh. (I have written a great deal more about the characters through a blog which remains undisturbed by new visitors) But over time it has become something of an albatross - I can't completely release the desire for it to be seen more widely. Most recently I decided to let it go completely, not attempt to promote it, not talk about it, accept that it is what it is - its main function being therapeutic, to give myself the chance I never had. But here I am writing this. I love the characters, and I feel there is life in it, and I can't quite give up on it yet.

And it has been surprisingly satisfying to write this piece, so there's that.