I’ve always been a big music person. I don’t mean that I am knowledgeable about music or that I appreciate the finer points of vocal ability or the ability to play an instrument. In fact, most people think I have terrible taste in music, although I’d be more likely to say that my taste is diverse. It might be the Backstreet Boys, or it might be Miles Davis. In terms of what plays on the radio, Nick says that I like songs that sound like commercials.
But, I love music, and I have always the marked the years of my life by the songs that were popular at that particular time. I also tend to have one or two favorite songs in a particular month, and then I play those songs on repeat until everyone around me wants to smash my iPhone to bits.
Over the last two years, I had several songs that I listened to in my darkest hours, and at the time, I felt that they helped get me through.
I can’t listen to those songs now, though.
My reaction is visceral. If I don’t get away immedatiately, a panic attack is imminent. Sometimes, all I have to do is turn the radio station. Other times, I have to walk out of a room. I’ve been trapped a few times. I’ve been in the middle of a store with a shopping cart full of items, and I’d walk out if it weren’t for the presence of my children. All I can do is breathe and hum inside my head to try to drown out the music.
Some days, I can’t make it through any songs at all. Every song – save the one I have literally never heard before – is a reminder of a past that I can’t escape.
So, when that new song comes along, I embrace it. Put it on repeat.
Let it be the beat of a new life.
Even if it sounds like a commercial.