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Oftentimes, in moments of personal crisis and stress, I find that my life resembles a cross between a soap opera, and a musical. Kind of like an episode of Glee. The soap opera part is obvious I expect; you feel like you're moving from one contrived situation to another with no control over yourself. Events seem to spiral towards inevitable disaster. A disaster that you're aware of because it seems like you're watching everything happen to a simulacrum. You know what's going to happen, but the other 'actors' don't and seem just seem to a follow a script. And with this comes an overwhelming, breath taking feeling of hopelessness because you know the future and the worst thing about knowing the future, as any real psychic will tell you, is that you can't change a damn thing.
The part that really makes my inner-life seem more like an episode of Glee, than say, The Bold & The Beautiful (although Eastenders would be a more geographically and socioeconomically accurate example) is the pop/rock soundtrack. I've been a jobbing pro-am musician for around 20 years and it's an understatement to say that music is incredibly important to me. It can literally make or break my mood, if not my day. Most people get "earworms", that annoying repetition of a jingle in your head for hours at a time. I get entire albums stuck for weeks at a time. I have pretty shitty sporadic insomnia at the best of times, and if I get an earworm I can literally lose days of sleep. I fear I might eventually go insane sometimes. It's horrible.
Anyway, I remember being deeply, deeply in love once. In hindsight I know it was infatuation, but holy fucking shit, I was smitten. And what made it the most awesome and most amazing thing ever was that, for while at least, she was also smitten with me. I had just left my wife and was living in Washington DC and had started a new postdoc position. At the compulsory staff orientation the HR person made everyone take turns standing up and saying their name, where they were from and what they were doing. Lo and behold, two seats down from me was one of the most beautiful 20-something young women I had ever seen (and this says a lot because I had just moved from a small College Town with literally thousands and thousands of beautiful young 20-somethings). Coincidentally she had just moved down from the same College Town and was working in the Neurology Dept. just one building over from me, in Pharmacology. We bumped into each other a couple of times that week, on cigarette breaks, and then started timing our cigarette breaks to coincide with each other. I felt myself falling for her; her huge smile, her always perfect blonde hair, the way she covered her mouth with her hand when she laughed, her big blue eyes that would return my gaze directly.
I still remember our first kiss, standing outside as the sun set, light was hazy red and gold through the rain. It felt like my first kiss, the way my heart leapt as my stomach dropped in the other direction.
Unfortunately, I was (am?) a selfish, narcissistic alcoholic who thought, at the time, that walking away from his wife was enough to make all the pain go away. And it didn't help that she was as bipolar as she was beautiful. God sure does have a sick fucking sense of humour.
Back then it was, amongst other songs, "Should I stay or should I go?" Trying to figure out what the fuck was going on with her life and my life and our relationship.
That was many years ago.
Nine days ago, for pretty much the same reasons as before, I lost the only person I give a fuck about in this whole fucking world. And I can't stop the fucking tunes in my head.
I can't remember when I last slept. I want to sleep.
I need a fucking drink so badly my hands are shaking. I do not want to drink. I will not drink. I have not had a drink in 8 days.
The blog might be darker than normal for a while. Some of my comments on blogs might be more acidic for a while. So, if you meet me, have some courtesy, have some sympathy, and some taste; use all your well-learned politesse, or I'll lay your soul to waste. I am not a happy fucking camper right now.
15 comments:
I know what you're going through.
Each time my world has ended - when I've managed to feel like I've been kicked to the curb or in the stomach by the men I've loved, I've surrounded myself with music. Throwing myself into late nights listening, thinking, writing, listening - they are part of the way we deal. I can still remember walking through a park, listening to songs I shared with the man I once I loved, tears streaming down my face. Music is how I've connected to the events in my life. I still remember what the last one said as I asked him to leave - he was going on a long drive with Matt Good playing, so he could think.
So go for a drive, with the windows down and the music turned up loud.
Or turn up the speakers on your stereo and just drown out the voices in your head for a while. Decide not to think.
Thanks for stopping by Kyrsten :)
I have entire genres of music that are now disallowed me thanks to my utterly dismal love life. Right now loud music (Rolling Stones at the moment), sobriety, solitude and extremely aggressive Muay Thai are helping.
but nighttime's worst. Doesn't matter how many times I wash the sheets, all I can smell is her :'(
As trite as this sounds, I truly am sorry :( :( I know what you mean about a huge array of music being off-limits now (among other things, like TV commercials, or certain smells) - it's amazing how our brains make those connections.
Sending you a big virtual hug.
Hug received & highly appreciated :)
I suppose there's some Zen stuff about growing from loss, or something. And I am, and I will. Shitty hard lesson to learn though :/
What's been...'cool', is friends coming out, not in support per se, but to say, "I'm here if you need a hug/beer/shoulder/slap". I don't appreciate my friends nearly enough.
Ugh. That sucks, dude. Hang in there.
And for the record, I didn't think your comment about me needing to grow a beard was anything out of the ordinary. It did make me laugh out loud, just so you know.
I was thinking the same thing about your idea of "it's happening to someone else" when I wrote my post. though your idea probably makes more sense. more of a disconnect in your theory, my "idea" is more difficult to imagine. at least for me.
Sorry to hear you are going through this shit. Always feels horrible, no matter how or why it happens.
I have one of those albums that I listened to every night for a long time in the dark era... and now I can't rally listen to it without falling in tears and feeling sad. it's a good album but forever linked in my mind. (As are some other very random songs that trigger mood in me without any warning. strange that soundtrack indeed.)
I'm sorry. Life can really suck sometimes, and throw punches at the strangest times. As one wise man once told me though "'tis too shall pass, babe" and in the meantime, hang in there and be brave. hugs.
@PiT: glad you liked it. That one was meant to funny) although I was biting my nails just in case). I kind of let rip over The Hermitage.
@Gerty: Cheers, a non-alcoholic fruity something over ice would be great :)
@GI: I thought it was a great post mate. It's always hard to get these thoughts out and have them be the same thing as in your head.
@PlS: Thanks. It fucking sucks and knowing it's my fault really doesn't help.
@Chall: This too shall pass :) I don't know if she's coming back, or how long this separation might last. We've spoken, but I have of ground to make up.
Sigh. This sucks. I'm very sorry... This was a lovely lovely post.
And look at all the hugs you've been sent -- it's clear that ladies have a soft spot for the sensitive guy! :) I'll throw my hug in as well (am slightly wary we will all smother your though! :)
Hi GMP, thanks for your kind words and the e-hug. I think it might the soft spot for the sensitive guy that gets me in all this trouble :/ LOL
Or, as my brother so callously put it when I called him, "Well, it's not like you're gonna be lonely for long."
Jeez, way to miss the point bro, you happily married, financially and emotionally stable bastard.
Yipes.
I had no idea, when we talked earlier. Sorry.
You know where I live.
I'm so sorry, Tideliar. I've been there and I know how it feels (at least how it feels for me) - I truly didn't feel like myself for months. As in, I really and truly didn't recognise my thoughts and words as my own. And I cried every day for weeks.
Don't be shy to lean on your friends (real life and virtual - email me if you want my phone number). And your real friends will understand if you're acidic and dark right now.
Hang in there.
Antipodean: Its helping me keep my shit together. We've spoken and even had lunch today, but I'm not 100% hopeful that we'll fix things.
RPG: Cheers. Wish I could just come home for a bit :(
@CVWYYN:Thanks Cath. It's only been a week and half but just staying sober has helped me focus. I joined a gym, eating properly and am back kickboxing again. Making myself healthy again is a project and it helps me not throw it away down the pub.
Still not sleeping though LOL :)
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