–Some extremely emotional/sad content ahead. This is a post I composed three months ago. I never thought it would see the light of day because I could not frame my thoughts as coherent sentences. My aim in publishing this today, I guess, is to examine my own thoughts in an attempt to understand them. Pushing the Publish button does force us to stand back and construct full sentences instead of writing jibber-jabber. With that said, there are some conflicting, confusing, and personal things coming up, which, honestly, I don’t think will help anyone. So if you don’t feel like it, please feel free to skip this post.–
It’s been over two years since I wrote this post, the only surviving post on my blog from that era. The reason I did not delete it with the others is because I felt it might, maybe help someone, in a similar situation might relate to it, and find the words to express what they were feeling.
That statement still holds true. Depression gives you jaded glasses through which it forces you to look at the world. Nothing interests you, nothing impresses you, and you’re pretty much a breathing vegetable on the emotional front. In the internet parlance, I would often state that everything is so “meh” in a lighthearted attempt to throw the focus off my mental state. If you want to be optimistic about it, you could say just as much as nothing made me happy, nothing disappointed me either. But that’s digging too deep for the silver lining.
The worst part of it was that I had no one to speak to about it. I had my blog for a while, until the posts were found out, but there was no one I could speak to, not one person who would listen. Or maybe I didn’t try to reach out.
Music plays a big part in our lives. I had very few non-grey days during that period (as opposed to now when I have few grey days) and whenever I could, I’d listen to music. I say whenever I could because even music has the ability to drain you on a bad day. It can enhance, terrible as that sounds, the greyness of your mood.
It was around that time that I heard Temple of Thought, by Poets of the Fall. I realize whatever I say post this statement may sound silly. It is not. Nor am I trivializing my condition, because I know what I went through. I am only telling you how one song, one band helped me at a time when I was at my lowest, strange as it may sound. I received medical attention for my condition a few months later (it’s a different story that I still refused to take my medication – they’re still safely tucked in a drawer) but until then, all I had was Temple of Thought on repeat. There was still no one to talk to, but there was a song reassuring me, a voice telling me, that it is going to be alright, that someone will be there for me. The extent to which it worked, I don’t know, because I was still jaded, still feeling neither excitement nor enthusiasm nor… anything. But I will admit, it was comforting.
The more songs I listened to, the more I began to appreciate everything about them. The lyrics (mostly penned by their lead singer Marko Saaresto) were better than most poetry I had read. When I first published my poetry book, on one of the promotional websites, I cited his name as one of my influences.
A few months ago, the band was in Bangalore on tour to promote their new album. For the first time in so long, I felt excited. I wanted to go for the concert. To see for real the people who helped me when I had all but given up. It was a confusing feeling, given that I had ceased erupting for joy lately, even on the days when outwardly I expressed happiness.
When you’ve been dead for too long, you don’t know how to respond to stirrings of life within you.
R noticed my enthusiasm, and though he is not a fan himself, he agreed to go for the concert with me. He was quite amused by my shenanigans, I think. I have never told him, or anyone (until now, when I put this up on my blog, however briefly) about the impact their music has had on me. Which is when the ugly rose its head again.
The ugly said, they will let you down. The ugly said, you have too many expectations from them. The ugly said, they will be terrible on stage and whatever support you had from them, unbeknownst to them, will be lost forever in the pile of disappointment you will face. The ugly called me a silly fangirl. The ugly said I was giving a larger than life reverence to mere artists who did not deserve it.
The ugly will do all in its ability to smother down even the littlest flame of joy in you.
The first time I tried to book the tickets, it didn’t work due to a system error. I was glad, strangely. Now I realize that was probably ugly’s doing. The ugly wanted me to fail. Ugly wanted me to sabotage my own chance at happiness, to live in that detachment I’d been living with for so long.
After that first attempt, I had given up trying to book tickets, making excuses upon excuses, mainly due to a fear of being underwhelmed by the same people whose music had helped me. R convinced me otherwise. He asked me to give it another go. I refused – stubborn and moody as I am. Mere days before the concert, I gave a try – I think I was looking for a sign. I think, in a superstitious haze, I convinced myself if the tickets were full, then that meant I was better off not having attended the concert. Complicated train of thought, I know.
They were not full.
Of course, like the happy ending in movies, they were not full.
We attended the concert. Oh, and that night, among so many of their wonderful songs, they sang Temple of Thought. I was happy. It was a simple joy.
It may take years before I am overjoyed by an event or display the kind of enthusiasm I was capable of before depression overtook me. I liked my extreme displays of emotion, because they had an innate… humanness to them, that this feeling of sorry indifference forced upon me does not. Someday I will reach there. Until then, more music for me, especially, from my favourite band. They will never know who I am, but this only goes on to prove how much influence someone can have on us, without them even knowing about it. It just goes on to prove, that when you’re good, even without realizing it, you’re helping someone, in some corner of the world.