The Worst Part

You know what the worst part is? (For me, at least.)  When I want to cry, and I can’t.  I am the world’s biggest crier.  I sob at beautiful flowers, songs, sad crap, funny crap, and King Kong being murdered (I’m not joking, I did.) However, right now, my eyes are painfully stinging, but no tears.  I have an odd side effect to medication. I could be the saddest human being in the world, and I won’t shed a tear.  I have been to funerals,  completely unable to get out my sadness.  I think it is related to my ability to shut off my emotions, and I suspect the medication makes it easier for me to disassociate.  “I feel like a robot”

Right now, I am watching a video of Eddie Vedder and Chris Cornell performing Hunger Strike with Pearl Jam.  I am dry sobbing right now. Has anyone else dry sobbed? Is this a thing? I want to cry, because I am upset. Or, maybe I kind of tried to avoid my emotions, but I’m here anyway.  Does anyone else wonder how these incredible musicians keep dying?  How is Eddie Vedder looking better than ever, yet Chris Cornell, Kurt Cobain, Lane Staley dead? I mean, not to show my age, but my childhood is overdosing and committing suicide.  I’m just staying in 90’s grunge there, too.

The people who touch my soul are musicians, writers, and comedians.  I especially have a thing for vocals, and I let Chris Cornell rock my aching brain to sleep.  This is the music that gets me by some days.  Another man who helped me save my life is dead. I am so sad for his family, all who loved him, and all who were healed by him.  He overcame so much to be able to perform as he did, and share his beautiful tragedy with everyone who was touched by his music.  He stood in front of crowds with depression and social anxiety disorder.  There are days I cannot put on pants when I am depressed. It’s incredible to think what artists can do, despite the demons and darkness they turn into light.  I am so overwhelmed with gratitude for musicians and other artists.

Like water is wet, I’ll state the obvious to say many musicians are addicts and/or struggle with mental illnesses.  I find it fascinating, though, how music helps everything and everyone. Isn’t it incredible?  It is my first coping skill.  Music helped connect me to my feelings and connect those feelings to paper.   There are times only a song can describe what I feel, because I don’t have the words.  It seems like most identify deeply with their music and emotions.

I personally can’t write worth a damn if I don’t have something playing.  For me, it’s like tuning my heart to the chords of the songs.  There are so many amazing artists out there singing, painting, or writing their tears, fears, and joy.  It’s pretty amazing to think how many people could be closing their eyes and smiling to a song at the same time I am sitting here trying to cry to a song.  Tonight, all I really wanted to do was let out the sadness, because my hero is dead. and there are so many other heroes; no where near as famous as Chris Cornell, who are dead.  There are so many heroes struggling as I type these words.  Right now, there’s a Mom battling depression while trying to make lunches for tomorrow.  There’s a teenager who threw up everything she ate today, and is slicing marks along her ribs, because it helps her think more clearly.  There’s a man cradling a gun, hoping his wife knows this is for the best.  There are a lot of people overdosing on the one thing that makes the noise bearable.

I want to cry, because I’m so damn tired of disease, stigma, and drugs stealing beauty, pain, life, and love.  But I will smile sadly, and know that life imitates art.  I am so sad to know that there is a world without him, and so many we love, in it. I cannot imagine a place where these beautiful people get to go to.  I’ll meditate until I find out where they all went, though.

 

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