But I don’t want to spend my whole life stuck in this limbo – pursuing peace, loving wrongly, being too involved with this abusive musical lifestyle. I can’t quit it. But I need to. It’s time to get over these silly dreams, to grow up & move on to something real. No more can my passion & freedom also be my profession & captor. Every time I pack up & try to leave, all new escapes lead in the same direction. My destination is (& always will be) the same. I am blessed cursed to travel this world, searching for what I don’t want but, clearly, need. The smile is temporary, the sense of contentment fleeting. But like the worst kind of drug addict, I always crave more.
And maybe that’s why I don’t trust & pursue the darker side of life – if I’m allowing myself to begin these relationships…rebellious & a guarantee to hurt me, I won’t go after the simpler & smaller joys in life. Much easier to pursue, but no risk involved. Maybe I’m a glutton for punishment…?
I digress. This twisted lifestyle I have willingly chosen – it’s sucked me in for good. It’s reduced me to tears, fits of terrible rage, & absolutely no will to go on. But I must know where it leads me – I have nothing else left.
The above passage was written in April 2012.
Two.
Years.
Ago.
It has taken me more than two years to identify, accept, & change the lifestyle that was, in all honesty, destroying me. And since doing so, I have (for the most part) been 100 times happier. Almost like walking on air – I finally did something for me…!
I’ll be the first to tell you that I’ve been through some shit in life. And I’m a broken human. And nothing broken can ever truly be whole again. And that my so-called eternal optimism is neither never ending or easy to find. Yes, I’m on depression & anxiety medication. It helps take the edge off – sometimes the past creeps up on a girl & wants to start controlling her life again. The medication helps prevent that.
And, up until March 2014, it helped calm me down & gave me clarity & focus within the music department.
March was the beginning of a very dark time – my dosage, which had never failed me before, became inadequate. I struggled to get out of bed every morning. Going to classes I used to enjoy became a burden. Relationships with roommates, coworkers, friends fell by the way side. I was cold & numb & pretending to care every damn day. And, let me tell you, the pretending got to be exhausting.
In June, I moved in with my grandmother. It seemed like the smartest thing to do – ground myself in family & people who support me. Instead, I found myself slacking even more with my summer courses. I went out 6 of 7 nights of the week, simply to get as trashed as possible. I began to experiment with drugs again. I made stupid, reckless decisions And throughout it all, I plastered on my “everything is great!” Face & laughed off many a mistake. Sure, there were some moments of actual happiness. But they were so few & far between I assumed I was imagining them.
Fast forward a few months to August. I start passing out & possibly seizing. No medical professionals can figure out why for quite some time…
…fast forward again to the middle of October. At this point, I have stopped attending all classes & in the process of filing for a medical drop for the semester. The passing out thing is categorized as my body shutting down & dealing with the untold amounts of stress my musical lifestyle started putting on me. My doctor has substantially upped my dosage.
On my bad days, I refer to my medical drop as quitting & giving up.
I still cry a lot & drink too much.
However, on my good days – which are more frequent as of late – I remind myself that before I made the decision to leave the music department, every night ended in tears & mistrust & feelings of worthlessness. And not one person deserves to feel that way.
It breaks my heart that, for the better part of five years, I happily & determinedly followed a passion I thought I would be enjoying for the rest of my life.
It breaks my heart to realize that I haven’t played my saxophone for 4 weeks…because a part of me is terrified that all the positive progress in my physical & mental health will backtrack as soon as I pick my sax up.
It breaks my heart that I still have a panic attack when I attempt to enter the music building on campus. I want to be around to support my friends as they celebrate their musical achievements at junior & senior recitals, at large ensemble concerts, at the group hangs after such wonderful events. But, for the time being, I’m being selfish & focusing on my happiness instead…so I can be around in the future to support everyone.
I don’t know what the flip I’m doing with my life anymore. For years, it was assumed by basically everyone that I was going to be a music teacher. And the only thing I know with 100% certainty is that I have no desire to pursue an education or music degree at the present time.
I’m slowly beginning to be happy with the murkiness of the future. Anything can happen, right? If I was strong enough to admit music was slowly killing me, I can be adventurous enough to pursue any new thing that strikes my fancy.
I have no permanent obligations tying me down, I have a goal to be off the medication within the year. I’m beginning to actually talk to the people that are most important to me – telling them how difficult this decision was, how unhappy something I once loved was making me – I’m beginning to trust myself & my friends.
I’m focusing on the now & being happy in the moment.*
We are not meant to live forever. we are, however, meant to create something that will. 