note to self: how to cope
All credit for the inspiration behind this post goes to the latest episode of Glee--"Grilled Cheesus." (Don't worry, I'm keeping things as spoiler-free as possible.)
You know those times when you feel so powerfully heavy-hearted, when telling yourself how ridiculous it is to feel so depressed does nothing to ebb the sorrow you're experiencing?
I had a brilliant epiphany tonight, and while it probably doesn't seem as ground-breaking as what happened in tonight's episode of Glee, my personal Light Bulb Moment was special and impacting to me. While I always knew singing helped me express myself better, I never truly understood how much more I feel I can convey through song.
After watching "Grilled Cheesus" and mechanically doing all of my homework (...alright, I put off Algebra for the moment, but that shit just gives me a headache on a good day), I trudged up to my bedroom. In typical "My life sucks, woe-is-me" fashion, I locked the door, turned off the lights, and listened to sad songs on my iPod on repeat in a comforting cocoon of pillows and blankets.
I kept waiting for my eyes to water, for the sobbing to start so I could get rid of the heavy feeling weighing me down. And yet... each repeat of "I Look To You" or "Not While I'm Around" did nothing to get me going. So... I did the most masochistic thing I could think of and played "I Want To Hold Your Hand".
Can you believe it had the exact opposite effect?
I was listening to it, waiting for the waterworks to start, but all I felt was a gradual deepening of the ache in my chest. My throat felt tight, my body was tense...
When nothing happened after the first play-through, I let the song run again. Somewhere in the beginning, I began to murmur along. "I think you'll understand..." I went on for a few more lines, only to realize my pain was waning. The ball of searing-hot angst sitting on my chest slowly cooled, unfurling to trail lukewarm fingers down my chest and into my heart.
I sat up in surprise, but I never stopped singing--even when the song repeated itself once more.
Three more times singing along gave me the most exhilarating epiphany, the deepest breath of fresh air, the comfort I'd needed all along.
Note To Self: whenever you're feeling down and kind of wilted, please don't let yourself mope. Just sing, okay?
For my kind, constant FList: when you're hanging onto a thread and struggling to cope, how do you comfort yourself?
You know those times when you feel so powerfully heavy-hearted, when telling yourself how ridiculous it is to feel so depressed does nothing to ebb the sorrow you're experiencing?
I had a brilliant epiphany tonight, and while it probably doesn't seem as ground-breaking as what happened in tonight's episode of Glee, my personal Light Bulb Moment was special and impacting to me. While I always knew singing helped me express myself better, I never truly understood how much more I feel I can convey through song.
After watching "Grilled Cheesus" and mechanically doing all of my homework (...alright, I put off Algebra for the moment, but that shit just gives me a headache on a good day), I trudged up to my bedroom. In typical "My life sucks, woe-is-me" fashion, I locked the door, turned off the lights, and listened to sad songs on my iPod on repeat in a comforting cocoon of pillows and blankets.
I kept waiting for my eyes to water, for the sobbing to start so I could get rid of the heavy feeling weighing me down. And yet... each repeat of "I Look To You" or "Not While I'm Around" did nothing to get me going. So... I did the most masochistic thing I could think of and played "I Want To Hold Your Hand".
Can you believe it had the exact opposite effect?
I was listening to it, waiting for the waterworks to start, but all I felt was a gradual deepening of the ache in my chest. My throat felt tight, my body was tense...
When nothing happened after the first play-through, I let the song run again. Somewhere in the beginning, I began to murmur along. "I think you'll understand..." I went on for a few more lines, only to realize my pain was waning. The ball of searing-hot angst sitting on my chest slowly cooled, unfurling to trail lukewarm fingers down my chest and into my heart.
I sat up in surprise, but I never stopped singing--even when the song repeated itself once more.
Three more times singing along gave me the most exhilarating epiphany, the deepest breath of fresh air, the comfort I'd needed all along.
Note To Self: whenever you're feeling down and kind of wilted, please don't let yourself mope. Just sing, okay?
For my kind, constant FList: when you're hanging onto a thread and struggling to cope, how do you comfort yourself?