Q&A Link Copied 04.18.25

“Ghosts” Actor Asher Grodman Doesn’t Let Fear Haunt Him

“There is always a fear of being left behind, of being kicked out, of being the weak link.” BySam Brodsky

Photo Credit: John Russo

Asher Grodman is not afraid to get vulnerable—and it’s not just because he plays a ghost stuck in purgatory without pants.

Grodman says that the paranormal characters on CBS’s Ghosts, including his own—pantless finance bro Trevor—often have “the emotional awareness of middle schoolers.” (Love them, but he’s right!) Grodman, on the other hand, is very  aware of what’s going on in his mind.

As a person with ADHD and dyslexia who’s also deeply familiar with depression and anxiety, Grodman knows what it’s like to lose yourself in your thoughts, feel like you aren’t good enough, and compare yourself to others. 

But, through therapy, his relationships, and being creative, he’s able to manage all of that. Here, the actor and filmmaker opens up about self-compassion, dark times, and a pretty big episode for Trevor the ghost. 

WM: How are you feeling lately?

Asher Grodman: I feel good. I just went for a run in the park this morning, which was lovely. Flowers are in bloom. I've been directing this project for Paramount, which has been fun. We're just wrapping that up, so that feels like light at the end of the tunnel. Overall, all good things. And then we're also at a point where we're airing some Ghosts  episodes that I think are really fun and exciting, so I'm kind of eager to see how people respond. Hopefully they respond well. Yeah, so all good, anticipatory, exciting stuff.

WM: Does running give you a mental health boost? 

AG: Oh yeah, for sure. Usually, the noise, the anxiety, the depression—all those things—are cured by getting out and running. It's just, the things that are cured by running are also the things that stop you from running.

WM: What about acting? Does that have the same effect of quieting your anxious mind?

AG: I mean, when someone yells, “cut,” or when you get to that last line in an audition or scene, whatever it is, immediately, it is a deep sense of like, Oh my God, did I just humiliate myself publicly?  There is that [feeling of] you just got caught with your pants down—forgive the pun. There's an exposure in that.

That being said … when [acting] feels really spontaneous or alive, there is this, Oh my God, that felt so great that I don't really care anymore. I just felt like I was actually living and experiencing and thinking my way through a problem or a situation. And that level of make-believe is exhilarating. That's the thing that you're always chasing. And yes, it does feel like a cure to all things.

WM: Since acting can be filled with rejection, have you gotten better at dealing with that once Ghosts took off?

AG: Yes, there is a deep sense of validation that comes from being on a show [for this long]. Very few actors get to do one thing for four, five, six seasons. Getting nominated for a Critics Choice Award is pretty wild, and the idea that many people were like, “That was good!” that's pretty validating. At the same time, there were 20 years of hitting your head against a wall [trying to land a part like this] before that.

I think a lot of how we approach the world is shaped by when we’re younger. It was in fifth grade that math started to click for me, and so I started doing better in school, and then I became academic. And so there's always that deep-seated, Oh God, it's not enough. I'm slow. I can't keep up. The fear of humiliation. The rejection always brings with it those memories, those feelings.

WM: How do you take care of yourself when your feelings of not being good enough resurface?

AG: I mean, anything with a dog helps. Getting outside helps. Being with people you love helps. Finding something that you think is funny helps.

What often happens for me is, on some level the old feelings are like, I don't exist. And so finding ways to breathe, feel your breath in your back, feel like you exist—those kinds of things are really helpful.

WM: Not to get too deep, but when you talk about searching for that feeling of existence, do you mean you’re trying to feel worthy of your life or accomplishments? 

AG: I’m sure that is an element of it, especially when you're working in a creative field. I always go through a thing, like, Oh, this person's funnier than me. This person has a sensibility or a sense of style or creativity that is more vibrant. That's always tied to worth, but what is  your worth? Sometimes it’s not necessarily on a scale of worthless to worthy, but on a scale of how full your life is or how full your creativity or your sense of self is.

It is a very strange juxtaposition where I can be on Ghosts, and people really like it and stop you in the street and all that. And then, at the same time, you feel very, very small. I remember really grappling with this after season one came out. I was like, Oh my God, I've been [acting] for 20 years, and I’m now on a hit show, and everything's going so well. And yet there’s still that deep abyss feeling. And so success brings with it a lot of really wonderful things, but it is not the cure-all of all the wounds or the things that you carry with you as you go through your life. It doesn't solve everything. It gives you some perspective on things for sure and opens up doors. 

WM: How did you work through that dark period after season one of Ghosts? 

AG: A lot of therapy. I think it felt very lonely, and I felt very small. It’s funny—I can feel absolutely miserable and really hate myself, and then get a job or have a work-related task to do and nail it, function at a very high level. Because the mental health stuff doesn't really impact my work; it impacts my life. I guess it's good news, but I think it's something that people kind of miss sometimes.

I remember living in LA and having some very sad times and lonely times, and then walking in and doing a job and being like, How did I do that?  You snap into a different space, and it's one of the joys and the fun of this art form.

So what I was feeling after season one was like, Wow, this is great. This is 10 out of 10. Especially looking back at my journey to get there. And because, for the first time, that area felt full, I was looking at the other side, and I was like, Oh, wow, we haven't done a lot of work over here. And so [career success] brought with it questions and fears.

When I was younger, there were questions of whether I'd be able to stay in school because of my issues [like dyslexia], so there is always a fear of being left behind, of being kicked out, of being the weak link. It doesn't matter how smart you are, it doesn't matter what college you went to, no matter how far you get from whatever that core [fear] was, that feels more foundational than all of the notches you can notch on a resume. So I think feeling like I've achieved this thing and yet feared that I’d fallen behind as a person was a big part of it. 

I can remember walking around—and I’ll still get this—feeling like there's a hole in my chest. And then you have experiences where it’s like, Oh, the hole's gone. But it would be a physical manifestation of a psychological thing. And whether it's a professional thing or it's working with a therapist, allowing people into your life, creating things, all that helps fill those voids. 

But I know where that darkness is for me. I know what it feels like. And I can go and achieve all the things that I want to achieve, but there's always the potential of hitting that bottom. It sneaks up on you. Once you're in, you don’t really want to get out of that space. You have to consciously push yourself out. 

WM: What have you learned in therapy to help push yourself out of that dark place? 

AG: It doesn't always work. You try. You end up getting a little bag of tools—things like breathing and feeling it in your back, laying on the floor, letting the floor carry you, getting off of social media, finding a sense of warmth or connection to someone else. A lot of times, being mirrored by someone is the most effective way to get out of something like that.

When you're with someone else, especially someone you love or you have a sense of intimacy with or a real connection with, they can really help you move [through those feelings] just by giving you the sensation that your feelings are being validated or being seen. It doesn't mean, “Oh, I feel like shit,” and someone's like, “Yes, you're right. You're shit.” That's not what I mean by validating your feelings. I mean meeting those feelings with a sense of warmth because a lot of those feelings are connected to shame or humiliation, which have an anticipatory sense to them. You're afraid that X, Y, Z is going to happen, and then when someone's in front of you, you see or experience, Oh, that's not something to be afraid of. That's not how they're responding to this. Especially when we're in pain, when someone provides warmth or a balm to that, I just lose it. And the emotion moves.

What happens oftentimes when I get to dark places is that I just can't move stuff. And so when someone's with you, I think on some level, especially if there's a sense of intimacy there and a comfort there, you have that safety to feel the thing, and then once you start feeling a thing, things change.

It's very easy to do that for a person. It's not about saying the right thing or anything like that. It's really just about being there, just being present and witnessing and breathing with someone. 

WM: Your character on Ghosts, Trevor, often talks about making “hero moves.” When people validate your feelings in this way, does it feel like a “hero move”? 

AG: Yeah, I think so. I think it just comes out of loving someone. 

I think at the end of the day, a lot of the stuff we battle feels much more surmountable when you are with someone. I don't mean dating. I just mean you are literally with someone who you love and who you feel loves and accepts you for exactly who you are, and you don't feel like you have to prove anything to that person. 

It’s a reason why therapy can really work—if your therapist is not judging you—because it is like holding someone's hand as they go through something as opposed to being alone going through it, not really being sure where all those emotions live. 

WM: What is the best thing you’ve learned in therapy so far? 

AG: This is not a therapy thing, but I have an acting coach, Larry Moss, who's really a wonderful human being. Decades ago, he told me—and I think he tells a lot of his students because mental health is a big part of his work—to treat yourself like you are your own son or daughter. And I found that to be very helpful. Hard, but very helpful.

Something that I've learned over the journey of therapy is that I have a real predilection for comparison, which is a nightmare for mental health, if you don't know. Comparing yourself to other people—disaster. Really bad strategy, especially for someone who has that deep-seated fear of falling behind. Having a sense of what normal is or what abnormal is [is helpful]. Like, “Oh, I learned a certain story about myself when I was younger,” and expressing that story to a therapist, and having them be able to mirror back, “OK, a lot of people have that,” or, “That's a weird one. That's not a real thing. That doesn't live in reality.” We marry ourselves to these ideas, and then having someone take the wind out of those ideas can be really, really helpful and really powerful. 

Getting a sense of the horizon, getting a sense of feeling oriented so you feel your feet on the ground a little more. I've learned that sharing things in therapy and opening up about things to friends, in safe environments, is a very, very powerful and helpful tool to dispel myths about yourself. 

WM: How does treating yourself like your own child help?

AG: I have a sense of shame, and so I’ll have moments where I talk about my younger self, and then my therapist is like, “OK, well, what if that kid wasn't you? What if that kid was some other kid, and you just saw a 12-year-old in X, Y, Z circumstance?” And I would find that I would be so much more loving and supportive and understanding of a nameless child than I would be to myself.

And so I think the perspective shift that happens with “treat yourself like your own son” helps you get around your ego or your shame to some clarity. For someone else, you would offer them a much warmer perspective.

WM: I love that. So let’s talk more about Ghosts. In the episode airing April 17, Trevor learns that he has a living daughter. What was it like filming that episode? 

AG: It was great. I knew that they were going to do something along the lines of Trevor having a son or daughter spring of last year. Early on [in the series] we did a whole joke about Trevor being a DILF. Especially knowing the kind of person Trevor is and how it's very likely this man could have fathered many people without any awareness—the laissez-faire lifestyle that he lived. So it did feel like this is something that we would do at some point.

Having the responsibility of a child, even though there's very little that he can really do for her [with him dead and her alive], it's something that is contradictory to the way he saw the world when he was alive. But also, when you consider loyalty to his friends and taking care of the people close to him, it is kind of in line with that. So it's a great story to bring in because it completely fits who he is and contradicts who he is.

Something that I also love about this episode is that Trevor's wrong. I like when these characters get to just be wrong. Because in life, we're wrong. I'm wrong all the time. I just think it's great when you can see these ghosts really make mistakes, and then realize that.

He is wrong because he texted [his daughter that she has a different biological father]. He’s wrong because he's seeing it as all about him. I mean, this girl has lost her mother and Trevor is part of [causing this rift between her and] her father. He gets  there, but I think part of the joy of these characters—in their death—and why they’re relatable, is that they've all made mistakes and sometimes passionately so.

WM: Does being an actor in this comedy about death make death seem less scary at all?

AG: I remember realizing what death meant and freaking out about it, running into my parents' room. There’s just a black abyss on either side of our lives! So I don't know that it makes death any less scary. I think there's something very heartfelt and comforting in that it makes death accessible because no one can comprehend what it is. “To be, or not to be,” that's the whole thing of Hamlet's speech [quoting Shakespeare]: that we just don't know what lies off in that darkness. And our show makes it not only accessible, but kind of mundane. So there is something very comforting about that.

I don't know that it changes the reality [of death] because who knows…but I think it is a heartwarming exercise to take the thing that seems so scary and unfathomable and make it accessible and even boring. Making death feel like you're just stuck sitting in a waiting room forever, making something that's so huge feel so trivial, there must be something healing or heartwarming about that.

WM: Well, as someone with death anxiety who can relate to the whole freaking-out-about-the-abyss thing, I think the show does help. In a way, it makes me want to focus on life instead of death. 

AG: Right! Yeah, I think if it makes you feel better, even gives you a few minutes of peace, that’s helping.

This interview has been edited and condensed for length and clarity.