So here I am, approaching a new year chowing down cough drops and reading a book. Not that I have any complaints, I outgrew the “let’s begin the new year shitfaced” a few years ago, but it’s low-brow enough to be a high-brow thing going on here.
I spent the last two days of my Christmas vacation sick at my mother’s and the first hour of my return home silently crying in the backseat of a car, wishing I could be sick at mama’s house again.
Not often do we get to have our mother’s take care of us and pity us when we’re sick once we’re grown and moved out, so I sort of basked in it… I have to admit.
I bought a new journal during my trip home which is always exciting for me. It’s like a fresh start, however, it always ends up filled with the same crap at the end of it’s lifespan.
At some point, even our pleasures become cycles – dull patterns of our life that we get stuck turning in. Not to sound pessimistic, I’m certainly not viewing it all that way, but there is a sad truth to it that can’t be ignored. I’m not really the free-spirit type, more of a silent, creative-type that moves along in the background and freezes up when any of the last shines close. I shy away from any recognizable credit but still beg for it. I’m still not entirely sure if that’s an insecurity or just a personality trait.
I don’t even really know what I’m talking about, I picked up a computer to write and crap came out. It happens. I just figure writing is the important part.
For any music lover, music is a constant in life. If you don’t have the right music, you can’t stay in the right frame of mind. Like music itself, there are different “genres” of music lovers.
First, there’s the content listener who rotates a library of a few hundred artists and can sit in a car with anyone and not get an itch to change the station no matter what’s on. Then, you have the music intermediate. The music intermediate has a preference but is generally flexible with other’s choices. While they don’t seek out particular music, they will always welcome recommendations. Next there’s the music seeker. This person is best friends with internet radio stations, shizzam and anything that can offer them more musical routes. No matter how much music they discover, their hunger can never be satisfied.
Finally, we have the music snob. The music snob always started out as the music seeker, but after time sharpened their senses, they realized that there was so much crap music, you had to dig for the good shit. Band history, bio’s, record labels, all of these things become significant and necessary when a band or artist makes it through all the hoops.
To most people, I probably seem like a music snob, but to those who know what I’m on about, I’m still transitioning from seeker to snob. I credit music for making my life what it is and I know what I’m listening for when I listen to music. I’ve researched genres, hunted down songs, read biographies/autobiographies and checked facts until words and names and genres all ran together, but I still don’t meet my own expectations. So, until then (and even after then), I have to make lists of my musical whereabouts.
The following tracks are what carried me from January to February and kept my head above water.
1. Smog – Cold Blooded Old Times from Knock Knock
While the rest of the song may be irrelevant to any experiences in my life, “The type of memories that turn your bones to glass” are chameleon lyrics that need no specific scenario to be relevant. Smog has never really made it to any memorable band list of mine, but there is something about Cold Blooded Old Times that you just can’t deny is worthy of mentioning. Plus, the song is seriously catchy.
2. Stevie Wonder – I Believe (When I Fall In Love With You It Will Be Forever) from Talking Book
The first time I heard this song (in all it’s cheesy glory) was on the High Fidelity OST and every since, I have adored it. Even though the rest of the album isn’t my favorite of Stevie’s, this song has always given me a wonderful place to imagine love and romance and all of those things we secretly desire. It’s one of those you can crawl to when things aren’t what you want them to be and realize that there is still a sort of sentimental hope. For me personally, it’s an up-beat alternative to withering in self-pity listening to Billie Holiday and Bobby Bland.
3. Bob Dylan – You’re Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go from Blood on the Tracks I have a love/hate sort of thing with Bob Dylan. His early work awes me with his evident passion for music and his ability to tell stories. However, post 1976 Dylan, for me, is a tad overrated and he’s always struck me as the sort to purposely press against the grain rather than to naturally flow in a direction. That being said, Blood on the Tracks is one of the last of Dylan’s somewhat earlier albums that I can emotionally connect with, and You’re Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go seems to make it’s way in to the rough patches of all of my relationships. There is something about Bob Dylan and a difficult relationship that seems to have a sort of peanut butter and jelly affect.
4. Ty Segall – Imaginary Person from Melted
In the world of fuzzy garage rock, Ty Segall has made a bit of a name for himself. He doesn’t quite hold a torch to Nobunny or Smith Westerns but he gets the job done and he does it well. Lyrically, Imaginary Person is more like random cargo you might find useful in an emergency but musically, it’s spot on when you need to channel your aggression in to something a little healthier than anger but equally as satisfying.
5. The Pixies – Brick is Red from Surfer Rosa
MacGyver wouldn’t be able to find a lyrical connection to this song, but then again, The Pixies aren’t really known for their lyrical content which is exactly why their driving force is their staunch love for noisy harmony – thus is the way of life. Quite honestly, I think Frank Black is a fuckin’ weirdo, but I have never been able to turn away from a Pixies song, even if it’s not one I particularly like. Since the first time I heard this song as an awkward teenager, it has always re-entered my life with the same burst it came in to it with.
Sometimes I feel so broken beneath my life that I have to sit and tell myself “This isn’t my life, this isn’t my life.” I have never felt so broken, ever. I don’t know what I let happen to myself. Why am I with a person who has no genuine interest in me? We’re silhouettes; we’re two people leading lives that do not belong to our desires — playing roles we were unwillingly cast in to, hoping to walk away with some profit.
I’m too young to fear that my life is melting.
I’ve read plenty of books and blogs and quotes and poems. Every writer will mention a calm that takes place/took place at some point in their life. Today, I knew exactly what they meant. Every previous form of calmness was blinded by the ora of pure, white kindness I felt today. It bleached out everything that has been troubling my mind and I can truly think of no word to describe it, because I’ve never experienced anything like it before.
I felt it at 5:45 this morning. I was waiting on my bus and asked myself:
Why are you so calm right now? Your truck is gone, you take the bus to work, your relationship is hanging on by a thread, you’re in debt and you haven’t bettered your education in any way. You’ll be 27 in a month and you haven’t worked in any way towards the career you really want. You’re best friend won’t talk to you, you moved away from all of the others and no one in your immediate presence appreciates you or values your company the way the friends you left did [this does not include you, Cassie, if you read this]. But you’re still smiling and hopeful. Most people would have quit at this point. Why are waiting for this bus right now? What is thepurpose of continuing this?
The truth is, I didn’t really have a good answer. But, somehow, I know that without a doubt, I’ll be just fine. Not because I’m special or talented in any specific way but because the changes that have taken place recently, the inner-struggles that I have fought my entire life — they are all, suddenly, becoming clear. I’m no longer troubled by the person I’m not, but inspired by the person I’m capable of becoming. I have something to work towards. And it’s not that I expect it to be easy, I know it’s going to be quite the opposite. I know I will find myself on the floor curled up plenty of more times in my life.
But I’m not going to be that person any more than I’m going to be the person that inspires me. I will probably always balance between the two. I am a perfect whole. And with everything I’ve lost and the miles and miles that stretch ahead of me; I’m seeing it for the first time, very clearly, as a clean slate. We can take nothing with us forever in life any more than we can take the things we cherish in to death. I’ve spent my entire life clinging to my friendships and my relationships because I thought they were all I had. It’s wonderful to value your friends and family — to be there for them and to go to them when you need them most. But it’s entirely different when you define yourself through your friendships and your relationships. And that’s all I’ve ever done. I’ve always tapped my foot to my own rhythm but I’ve never attempted to do it solo. I’ve always needed the backing vocals and other instruments to harmonize with.
For the first time in my 26 years, I have no reflective surfaces in my life. No one to mirror myself against and say: You’re a good person, look at the wonderful friends you have and all they do for you. No one to reassure me (aside from my mother) or remind me of the wonderful things I am (aside from my mother).
And while I thought it meant I’d be a shitty person if I lost any of the people who comforted me in that fashion, it didn’t happen that way. I was simply flooded with the reality that that’s life sometimes. I could win the lottery and give it all to charity but that doesn’t mean there aren’t others still suffering. In actuality, my dependency on the friendships I’ve lost cheapened the value of every kind gesture I made. This doesn’t make me feel like a bad person though, the only person I feel like is the one growing in to someone that can handle the pains and still keep their head up. The person that sees the changes they need to make and works towards changing them. The person who’s had their heartbroken more than once but still believes in romance and love. The person who can take a shitty situation and pull something positive from it. The person, who despite every setback, still believes they are capable of wonderful things.
This isn’t an easy person to be, and knowing that comforts me because of all the things that are wrong in my life, I must have done something right if I still have this much confidence in my character.
My entire life is about to change. I’ve made plenty of decisions in my adult life, but this is the first time I’ve ever put myself before love. It’s a miserable and liberating feeling. It’s terrifying and comforting. It’s an opportunity to change, to grow and to shake the childhood notions of growing up to the ground. I’ve waited long enough. I’m an embarrassment to myself but that’s okay. It’s not permanent and I’m not too old to start a different life. At first I feared I’d be hardened and damaged but, no, that’s not the case. In fact, I’m stepping away from everything with a better idea of how things should be and I know exactly what I’m looking for in love and in life.
Sure, right now I feel the cushion beneath me, but it will be a long road to recovery and I fear I’ve just lost my best friend and that’s okay too. It’s not but it’s part of life sometimes and it goes on. The more I begin to accept this all, the lighter it will become. Some days will be easier than others. And I have no doubt I’ll grow in to someone better from all of the pain I’m going to endure. I’m not ready and I am. My life is about to become a bunch of playlists of really, horribly sad music. But misery enjoys company and I’m no exception.
While I may be losing someone very important to my life, I’m also gaining something, a sort of self-respect and confidence that I’ve never known. And my journal has been flooded with beautiful words that I haven’t seen in years. And it feels right and good and positive. I am documenting my life to remind myself that yes, this is the right decision. No matter how painful it is and how much I don’t want to fill pages and pages with miserable words; they’re wonderful fragments of something I’ll never have to suffer through again and the pain is written beautifully (nothing like the garbage I write on here).
If only I could always feel this positive, but life is not that simple and it never will be. There will always be ups and downs and decisions to be made. However, this, I know is the right decision and I know they won’t always be so easy to decipher.
Today, I am thankful for having a positive attitude about a terribly shitty situation.
Cheers to good friends :]
I am filled with fiery emotions, all spilling over the cusp of my sanity and driving my heart in to the ground. I feel broken among every jagged piece of my heart that fell to the ground and “cushioned” my fall from the great heights I once occupied.
I am nothing more than another statistic, another failed relationship swept under a rug of bitter, lonely, angry women. The only ones that understand my frustration and my continued efforts in the face of defeat. I left a warm world of comfort and love and assurance that I would always have support. I left it all for an unknown world that gave me nothing but discomfort, insecurity and the complete absence of support. I have dragged myself across the coals of every decision I’ve made the past two years and let them burn the flesh of hope right from my bones. I have cried on the bathroom floor countless times, prayed to any god willing to take pity on me and created a fantasy world to lay my head in before I sleep. But my bad decisions and misery callously invade my dreams and paint bold letters before me “MISTAKE, MISTAKE, MISTAKE!!!” and I find myself waking up to the fear of living a lonely, loveless, miserable life with the same words flashing across my waking eyes.
I used to be filled with optimism and hope and wonderful things but a bad relationship can turn any woman in to the very thing she’s always despised. I still manage to pull myself up and remind myself that yes, it’s all temporary and yes, I will find the warm place I so desperately covet. I pinch myself and tell the inner-cynicism of lost battle that I’m still young and my future is still attainable and bright and that I’m nothing like those who ride passenger to their setbacks and failures. I’m not that person and I never have been.
In truth, I’m a self-loathing, depressed thinker who constantly dissects every situation and because of it, I put myself in the position of the victim. But rarely, do I ever let anyone in to this world, it’s my world and my secret and it’s no one else’s problem to fix.
When I was younger, I never dreamed of telling my mother any of my problems but now, it seems I’m living a life she’s already lived. She has guided my like the lost puppy I am and reminded me that pride is overrated in the face of love. Without my mother and her infinite wisdom of experience and growing up as an independent woman, I wouldn’t even be able to hold my head up.
But because of her, these boiling emotions that constantly bubble beneath the surface are no longer the center of my life. Sure, they find ways to overwhelm me but all I have to do is sit and think reeeaaaal hard and remind myself that I’m smart, beautiful, genuine, kind and most of all, young. I have a full life ahead of me to redeem the mistakes of my early adulthood and I plan on using the rest of those years living the life that I want and because of the wonderful qualities that are naturally embedded in being, I will never be alone.
Maybe I’m not where I want to be or should be in life, but I’m tired of letting this relationship take charge of how I feel about myself. It may last another month, another year, hell, it might last forever, but as of right now, I am wiping my hands clean of the damage it has done and instead of focusing on the problems of this strained relationship, I’m going to do some damage-control and hopefully, one day walk away from it with my head high and my heart healed. I deserve to be happy.