“I carried on. Day job, stand up. Stand up competition. See friends, get obliterated. Wake up in the night crying. Get up. Shower. Eat. Make up on. Go to work. Argh! The tube feels like a gauntlet. Deep breath. Dive in. Earphones in. Volume up. It’s a game, through Kings Cross, dodging the obstacles. Duck into the secret passage between the Victoria and Piccadilly Lines. One foot in front of the other.” For Isabelle, stand up comedy is the outlet that keeps her sane in her day job but the nature of the game is to turn your life into punchlines. How can you be funny when all you’re feeling is all-consuming sadness? “In some ways I wanted [my therapist] to come and watch me to see how F**KING HILARIOUS I AM and in others I thought how odd it would be performing to someone who’s seen so far behind my mask. Would he even find it funny or just sit there knowing what I was hiding?”