I know… another song. Sorry if it’s boring for you. These posts are never very popular but sometimes, a song gets into my head and I want to share. I hope you don’t totally hate these posts…
• • •
This is my 60th Song of the Day. I felt that it should be something special… so I was choosing among my five favorite artists. I found the perfect song… so Coldplay wins.
There are a few theories as to the meaning of this song. I, personally, think that Chris has never confirmed nor denied anything (to my knowledge) because he wants fans to find their own meaning in the song.
Given my current place in life, I think it may be obvious what I take from this…
Things are bad. Really bad. My star is fading… Everything feels out of control. Can’t escape. But… it’s no cause for concern … if I hide it. I feel like I’m done. Inside me, the screams say give up… there is no hope. But somehow, I climb up a little… only to fall back down (which mostly makes me feel like a huge failure).
And then someone comes along and sets me free from all of it.
Still waiting on that last part.
Coldplay | Amsterdam
Come on, my star is fading And I swerve out of control If I, if I’d only waited I’d not be stuck here in this hole
Come here, oh my star is fading And I swerve out of control And I swear I waited and waited I’ve got to get out of this hole
But time is on your side It’s on your side now Not pushing you down and all around It’s no cause for concern
Come on, oh my star is fading And I see no chance of release And I know I’m dead on the surface But I am screaming underneath
But time is on your side It’s on your side now Not pushing you down and all around It’s no cause for concern
Stuck on the end of this ball and chain And I’m on my way back down again Stood on a bridge, tied to the noose Sick to the stomach You can say what you mean But it won’t change a thing I’m sick of the secrets Stood on the edge, tied to a noose She came along and she cut me loose You came along and you cut me loose You came along and you cut me loose
[Written by Chris Martin, Will Champion, Jonny Buckland & Guy Berryman (super hot bassist)]
I love the way Chris apologizes in advance for any mistakes he might make during the song… which, as he says, they rarely perform.
I know I am constantly on your mind and you need to know my thoughts on a daily basis. That is why I’m writing this post. You’re welcome. [Sarcasm, in case you didn’t get that. But really… how could you not?]
I decided to self-medicate to see if I can get any pain relief for my back. Don’t worry, it’s just OTC stuff. I have been told many times that taking something regularly works differently (better?) than just popping a pill when you have a headache. (The latter doesn’t work for me at all… even for a headache. For that, caffeine works. Too bad that doesn’t work for my back. But I take that regularly anyway.) So far (and I’m not very far into this ‘experiment’)… no change. Honestly, I don’t expect any change at all. Except that I’m going to need to buy more Advil.
I’m still putting off the car-needs-new-tires thing. But I don’t want to end up in an emergency situation on the side of the road somewhere. I’m going to have to do this. With some money. That I will get from who the fuck knows where.
I still can’t write much of anything. I thought a distraction would help, but I have so much (SO MUCH) trouble motivating myself to do anything that distraction is a problem. I feel a little sick all the time (still) and I just don’t care much about anything.
I still haven’t repainted my fucking toenails. No one thinks there is anything wrong with this color… except me. Maybe I just can’t bring myself to like anything about myself. That’s a real possibility.
But… I forced myself (and I do mean forced) to go out this morning. I went to the beach for a little while. A very calm peaceful beach. I shouldn’t have done that since this particular beach is about twenty-five minutes away from my home and there’s that whole pesky tire situation. The irony is that I almost didn’t make it home because my gas light came on and I was nowhere near a station… nothing to do with my tires.
Anyway… this is a boring post… and I hate it. But here are some pictures I took this morning.
It looks like the ocean is boiling and steam is coming from it. Weird.
This is a rocky beach…
But the rocks look pretty cool.
Again with the steam-looking clouds.
There were a lot of seagulls overhead. I’m surprised I didn’t get pooped on because that’s how my ‘luck‘ is.
And I will leave you with thoughts of seagull poop. Yeah, that’s about right.
Don’t worry. I’m not planning a funeral. Not for myself or anyone else. I just love the song.
According to Ben Bridwell (lead singer) it’s not really about a funeral anyway…
The basis of The Funeral was just really the start of me whining about my aversion to social occasions and Holidays. The pressure of say New Year’s being the best party night of your life, or Christmas being this forced togetherness. I was quite the pessimist in those days when I wrote the song.
Now I quite like the forced togetherness and celebration around meaningful holidays. I still think a lot of them are dogshit in origin, but can enjoy the party in my new-found mellowness. I think I added some more personal story in the song concerning mortality and probably related it to a romance at the time, but I haven’t thought about it for so long. I’ve blocked it from my memory enough to still enjoy playing the song every night.
[quora.com]
So Ben has gotten over his aversion. I have not. Ever the pessimist. My glass isn’t half-empty… it’s cracked into bits and shards of glass are everywhere. And I hate the ‘obligation‘ to enjoy gatherings. Most of the time, I just fake it the whole time. Totally exhausting. I’m sure it’s my embarrassment over my crappy life. Everyone updates us on their lives… all the good things, maybe a few bad. I have no good things. It’s all bad. So I mostly say nothing as I have nothing worthwhile to contribute.
Yeah… those events are hell for me. I enjoy baking for them and tasting all sorts of great food. That’s about it. I love to see Mom, but I’d rather visit on my own.
Anyway… that was way more info and intro than I intended.
Maybe ignore me and just listen to the song… (I know, too late…)
The Funeral | Band of Horses
I’m coming up only to hold you under I’m coming up only to show you wrong And to know you is hard, we wonder To know you, all wrong we were
Ooh-ooh Ooh-ooh
Really too late to call, so We wait for Morning to wake you, that’s all we got To know me as hardly golden Is to know me all wrong, they were
At every occasion, I’ll be ready for the funeral Every occasion, once more, it’s called the funeral Every occasion, know I’m ready for the funeral Every occasion, oh, one billion-day funeral
I’m coming up only to show you down, for I’m coming up only to show you wrong
To the outside the dead leaves, they’re on the lawn Before they died, had trees to hang their hope
Ooh-ooh Ooh-ooh
At every occasion, I’ll be ready for the funeral Every occasion, once more, it’s called the funeral Every occasion, know I’m ready for the funeral Every occasion, oh, one billion-day funeral
[Written by Ben Bridwell, Timothy Ian Meinig, Christopher Early]
Obligatory disclaimer: I might delete this post because… just because.
I fear this may now be a daily thing. I keep having different versions of that moment of panic I had on Friday. And I wasn’t even alone for all of them. I told the husband that it was happening while it was happening once. He wasn’t a total douche. But he has no idea what to say to me. I get that… no one does. But I just don’t feel that ‘I care and really wish I could help‘ vibe that I get from my friends here. That’s kind of sad. Not that I get it here… but that I don’t get it from him.
What’s been going through my head? Mostly the same… but also different.
…the back pain—worse, not better
…financial hell made worse by the work I had to have done on the car this weekend that was $150 more than the $500 I had thought… and I haven’t even dealt with the tires yet
…son upset about something this morning that I can’t fix
…daughter also upset about something different that I also can’t fix
…still can’t write anything
…I feel sick all the time
…can’t get anything done because I lack motivation and the will to do anything
…still hate my toenails
…etc.
I still fear that nothing is ever going to get better… and am having trouble making it through the day. It was a little easier over the weekend. But yesterday… Monday. The only reason I didn’t have a total meltdown, I think, is that I kind of forced myself to sleep an ‘extra‘ three hours. Now it’s Tuesday. How will I get through today? Tomorrow? And all the other days?
I know I have an isolation situation. But I’m also trapped. I concede that I probably need to talk to someone. Like, a *shudder* therapist. [No offense if you are a therapist.] I can’t afford another fucking copayment for every appointment. I already have my NP and the pain doc.
Besides… I spent something like six months (might have been more… my memory sucks) kind of recently working with a therapist—trying to retrain my brain to think differently… to stop believing all the irrational negativity… to stop myself from going to the ‘bad place‘.
It didn’t work. No matter how many brain exercises I did, on paper and off, I never could believe the positive version of things. After months, my therapist finally said, ‘At some point, you just have to take a leap of faith.‘
That is why I went to see him in the first place! I can’t seem to believe anything but the worst. (Because my brain works on evidence… history.) I couldn’t take that leap of faith. And in the end… my therapist basically told me to ‘just do it.‘ This is not a fucking Nike commercial. He told me he was going to teach me. I didn’t need someone to waste my time and money only to tell me to just magically ‘do it‘. If that were possible, I never would have met this idiot in the first place.
And that is why therapy makes me shudder.
But I can’t keep doing this… writing all of this for you poor people to read… leaning on my friends here because I can’t do anything to help myself. I’m going to lose you… chase you all away… because I’m such a disaster. I just don’t know how to do anything anymore. I’m scared and weak and I don’t want to feel like this anymore… but I can’t fix it. I hate that I can feel my heart breaking.
What I really should do is disappear. No one wants to read this shit from me anymore. I hate that it’s all I can write.
• • • ‘Dear Diary’ is fiction based on actual events.
Any similarities to your college life is purely coincidental.
Any similarities to mine is entirely intentional.
This is the post where I’m supposed to reflect on this year’s challenge. Maybe it’s just me, but ‘reflections‘ sounds so cheesy. Yeah, it probably is just me.
I do have some thoughts…
thought #1
I loved my theme this year. (Thanks M!) I have been in a fiction-writing slump for a long time. Months. Many of them. It made me so sad. But somehow, I was able to write this story (maybe because it isn’t 100% fiction?)… And I was able to post daily. I amazed myself. Of course, unfortunately, now that the challenge is over, I’m empty again. Right back into the slump.
thought #2
Writing so many posts before the start of April helped me enormously. Last year, I wrote every post the night before and I was a giant stress ball. (Of course, last year I decided to do two themes so that was totally idiotic.)
thought #3
However, despite thought #2, I’m glad I didn’t write all of my posts before April. And I’m glad I didn’t schedule any of them before the challenge began. I like to proofread everything a hundred times… and edit… and make every post the best I possibly can. And I like to read along with all of you throughout the month. Scheduling them all ahead of time kind of feels like I’m not even doing the challenge… so what’s the point?
thought #4
I wasn’t great about keeping up with others’ challenge posts the whole time. It wasn’t just working on my own posts… it was also my life… my mind… my heart. All of which are a messy and broken.
thought #5
I really like the way the challenge was managed this year… with the Master List and the daily lists for each letter throughout the challenge. I think it worked really well. I liked it way more than commenting with my post link every day on the a-to-z blog. I kind of hated that.
thought #6
I am very curious which characters or parts of the story you thought were my reality vs. my fiction. Please share! I really want to know. I thought about making a whole separate post asking this very thing… and maybe I will still do that. But please do share here!
• • •
Thanks to everyone for the kindness and support throughout this challenge. I have created a post with a list of links to all of my a-to-z posts. In alphabetical order, of course. [That post will be live shortly.]
If you read my blog regularly… or have been reading for the past week especially, you know that I’m in a bad place. And I don’t mean my stupid house in my stupid town. I mean the stupid place in my stupid head. It feels sad and scary. It feels overwhelming and completely out of my control.
I often think my demons are who I am. I’m not sure there’s anything else. And there’s definitely no running from them… they are always there… screaming at me… tearing me down…
Do my crying underwater I can’t get down any farther All my drowning friends can see Now there is no running from it It’s become the crux of me I wish that I could rise above it … But I stay down With my demons
I talk to myself… tell myself it’s not that bad. Sometimes, I even believe it. For a minute or two. Sometimes the start is at night… I’m okay when I go to sleep… but then I wake up and just as the sun should brighten things, it goes dark.
Oh, everyday I start so great Then the sunlight dims The less I look The more I see the pythons in the limbs Do not know what’s wrong with me The sour is in the cut When I walk into a room I do not light it up Fuck …But I stay down With my demons
My interpretation of this song is totally based on myself. I’m sure that was not intended as no members of The National know me personally. But it fits… maybe a little too well.
When I think of you in the city The sight of you among the sites I get this sudden sinking feeling Of a man about to fly Never kept me up before Now I’ve been awake for days I can’t fight it anymore I’m going through an awkward phase I am secretly in love with Everyone that I grew up with Do my crying underwater I can’t get down any farther All my drowning friends can see Now there is no running from it It’s become the crux of me I wish that I could rise above it
But I stay down With my demons But I stay down With my demons
Buts and buzzards in the sky Alligators in the sewers I don’t even wonder why Hide among the younger viewers Huddle with them all night long The worried talk to God goes on I sincerely tried to love it Wish that I could rise above it
But I stay down With my demons But I stay down With my demons
Can I stay here? I can sleep, on the floor Paint the blood and hang the palms, on the door Do not think I’m going places anymore Wanna see the sun come up above New York Oh, everyday I start so great Then the sunlight dims The less I look The more I see the pythons in the limbs Do not know what’s wrong with me The sour is in the cut When I walk into a room I do not light it up Fuck
But I stay down With my demons But I stay down With my demons
[Written by Matt Berninger and Aaron Dessner | The National]
what sandra thinks 