Tag: music

Entry #35: My Darkness

Not that long ago, I was asked when the darkness started to be evident in my life. I couldn’t really put a specific time on it, although I suspect it was at a young age.
Like most families out there, mine was dysfunctional no matter which way you looked at it. I don’t recall ever hearing the “I love you or I am proud of you” words. Ever.
As an introverted young person, I kept to myself most of the time and grew to embrace the chaos and dark thoughts that started to make themselves known to me more and more often.
Music became my lifeline from a young age. When performing, those dark thoughts never managed to make themselves known. I always knew they were there, but in music, I was always able to keep them bubbling under the surface.
I might have been fooling myself, but I thought I had it under control for all those years.
While the darkness was always there in the background, it didn’t manifest itself in an all empowering force until I lost Annie.
Annie brought a light into my life that had never been there. For the year or so we were together, I did not have a single dark thought and I believed I had beat it for good. I didn’t even come close.
When Annie passed, everything I knew to be true died. The darkness that enveloped me was unlike anything before. The most difficult aspect after facing the fact that Annie was gone, was losing the music. My life up to that point existed solely for my ability to perform and to please Annie. Music was my only safe place, and now it was gone along with Annie. There was no longer any kind of lifeline left. I spiraled down into an alcohol fueled frenzy that I only survived due to a friend dragging me back from the abyss.
I still saw friends, although not as often, and I could tell they knew I wasn’t right, but I rebuffed all their questions and put up my walls. I no longer saw the point. They tried, but over time I pushed many of them away.
I have been a captive of my own special darkness for going on eleven plus years now. It rules everything I do and the walls are now impenetrable.
The real friend list is pretty short now and they, just like my many acquaintances have no idea what goes around in my head. The music is still lost to me, although I do go to a show once in a while and sit in a dark corner and try not to engage with anyone.
My darkness is now my security, and I am no longer afraid of it. No one knows, for the simple reason is I don’t trust anyone enough to tell them. Nor do I want to. I cannot imagine that I could possibly meet another person who could bring back the light the way Annie did.
This surely isn’t the way I planned to finish out my time, but it is my reality and I am ok with that.

Entry #3: When The Music Stops

Annie loved the band. She would come to every rehearsal and show she could make it to. The music brought her so much joy it was infectious to watch her. I don’t think I have ever met anyone who could show so much laughter and emotion over just being in the moment of a live performance. Many times she would be right up front with the booming sound cabinets and this crazy grin on her face. She must have been a hippy in a previous life.

Never having really been interested in music before, she embraced it and went out and purchased an iPod so she could put music on it for later listening. I had no idea what she was listening to, as honestly, the subject never came up. I look back now and think, why didn’t I ever ask about that? It will remain as one of many unanswered questions that I wish I had asked when I could.

Annie was thousands of miles away from me when her heart gave out. I didn’t know then and have thought every day since why I didn’t make the trip with her. I could have put things on hold, made arrangements for the things that needed to be taken care of. I knew she wanted to do this on her own as she had worked towards this goal her whole life. Yet, my thoughts on that week still demonize me.

Annie’s mother traveled to her to take care of the arrangements and although her English was not the greatest, she made the effort to keep me updated on what she learned. She was Thai/Vietnamese and had met her Black American husband when he was stationed overseas. Eventually he was brought back the states and Annie was born here. It was so ironic that she had traveled back to her mother’s country at the end and she was barely 40 years old.

It was by pure happenstance that I happened to be at home a few weeks later when a package arrived. I saw all the postage on it and it took a minute or two to realize it came from overseas. Annie’s mother had sent me a few of her things that she thought I would like to have. One of those things was her iPod. I was for sure not in the mood to look at all of this so I just put the box away.

A month went by and I finally started to go through the box. The iPod was dead so I borrowed a cable from a friend so I could charge it up. What I found changed me forever. There was only one song on the whole damn thing. The song we played that she found total enjoyment in. I had no idea what to think.

A week later we had a show. Load in all the stuff, wait and wait and wait for a sound check. Things didn’t seem right at the sound check but I could not put my finger on what was bothering me. When we tore into the first song opening the show, I knew I was done. I just mailed it in the rest of the night. That song was the only song on her iPod, I could never play that song again, never play any of those songs again. I walked away from performing music that night. It’s been ten years and try as I might, I still cannot get back the point of performing. Every time I have tried I only see that iPod. That iPod stopped the music.