Saturday, June 12, 2010

Filling up my soul when it's running on E

This will come as no shock to anyone that has spent any amount of time with me over the past few years when I say that I have been empty. Running pretty damn near close to it at least, sputtering along on fumes and missing huge parts of myself. I know old friends can see it when I show up on their doorstep, if I show up, because everyone is always asking me if I am ok. And the thing is, No. No I haven't been ok.

Searching for the root of this whole "not ok vibe" has been a long running chore at this point, I feel like a kid playing a video game, pumping in quarter after quarter but never able to reach that end level because some motherfucker ganked the game up so you can't ever get to the final end battle. Bastard. I will say that again, Bastards.

So I have really been doing this soul searching, self exploration, learning and listening, chose your own ending, adventure story ever since I got out of the hospital. Those 6 days ticked by so slowly but I think I actually absorbed quite a bit of what I needed to, besides just changing my medications. I dare to say it was actually productive, unlike my previous hospital stay which was just a cluster fuck of bullshit. People, the answer has always been RIGHT HERE, THISCLOSETOMYFACE, from the very start.

Yes I was losing my shit before I quit my job, but only to a certain extent. There was still a lot of my shit right where it was supposed to be, I still had the "Me-ness" that people recognized. But ooooo.. when I left... spiral out. keep going. It was a slow burn out, I lost more and more of me and have continued to do so ever since. So what was it? The clothes? The people? The bossy being in charge? The money? No. No. No. No. Well I do love the clothes, but still No.

The music. PEOPLE! The music went away. Not only did I stop listening to music around the house but I wasnt spending 12 hours a day with it blasting all about me. Even the stuff I hated, the songs I heard so many times I wanted to cry when they came on (Come on ride the train) was gone. And so was my disposable income, or my mental capacity, to go to concerts. I stopped going out to clubs to dance just for the shear joy of dancing, I stopped going to visit my friends at work at other clubs, I just stopped.

This is so obvious. Anyone who has seen me after a live show knows the euphoric state in which I wander for hours, sometimes days after. All of my friends are people who are passionate about music. People who play, record, DJ, dance, or just love it and feel moved by it and need it to get by the same way I do.

And yet my listening dropped. Plummeted.My static brain and the waves of mental breakdown took the place of the notes, the words and the throbbing beat that I need to feel moving through me to live.

Yes, to live. I need music to live. Like Tinkerbell needs you to clap for her, like fish need bicycles, like monkeys need to fling poo at zoo visitors. I need it for my mental health, my physical well being and my HAPPY.

One good live show, say Puscifer in Chicago this past winter with my son, keeps me fed for a few months, but I still need snacks! I need to crank it up on the tv, the computer, the Ipod and not just at the gym. In the car, in the kitchen, in my bedroom there needs to be music.

I have been playing music almost constantly since coming home from the hospital. Its always running in the background somewhere. I have it in my purse where ever I go, in my shiny little pink Ipod that I can pop out at a moments notice and start refueling my brain and body.

And this means that for me to really be me again, to really be healthy and turn my back on all this sickness and the mistakes and the shame that has become my life... I have to go back to work with the music. I need to keep going to the gym until I am in the shape I want to be in and then I need to go back into one of those dark seedy bars and spend hours and hours surrounded by music again.

I need to step back into the shoes of who I was for so long. And use that to become the new me. Propel myself with this reclaiming of the old me, my old job, my old work, and use that to push myself into the new me, the new job and the new work I want to accomplish. I dont want to work in a bar forever, popping beer tops and wiping down tables. Or stretching myself across the cool floor of the stage and spinning around the shiny pole. No. Obviously that is silly, you simply CANT do that forever and to not want more is to not grow into someone new and better.

But right now, I have been so empty, so not me, that it is EXACTLY what I need to become me again and then blossom into a whole new, 2.0 version of me. To get myself back into school, to learn a new line of work and to keep this part of me intact and whole once again.

And when I leave that place again, this time I will be strong. I wont be running from the job, from illness, from myself. I will be walking with great purpose and determination into a new future that I want with all my heart, and my filled up soul.

And the music will never again stop around me. In my home, in my car, in my head, I will keep it going round and round, so the energy that is me never tries to curl up and die again.

There is no other way for me to end this post then with the song that means the most to me, and touches me like no other song in my life has done. This is the song that I feel like captures me, who I am, was, will be forevermore. It lifts me to a point of elation when I hear it and when I was surrounded by it during 2 amazing live shows I felt reborn each time.


Miss Tricky said...

You are magnificent.

I have hoped very hard for you to wake yourself up and decide to start being again. I am so glad that you are coming to. I am so glad that your fog is lifting.

I love you always.

Bucky Four-Eyes said...

So...wait. We need to clap for Tinkerbell until she knocks the fish off the bicycle and flings poo?

I'm so confused.