So it doesn't take a genius to figure if you read my last blog (or even just its title) that things haven't been all flowers and hearts and sunshine for me recently. When I was in counselling recently (my therapy, not being someone elses counsellor) I used a metaphor to describe my depression and stuff as being like I was wearing those buckets on a piece of wood that milk maids used to use - forgive me, I have no idea what they're called. These last few weeks have felt like my buckets have been filled up again and really dragging me down. I'm not wanting to go into that now though, feeling shit can wait for another blog another time. The reason I mention it is because tonight for the first time in ages I felt happy. It was partially the company, I was with two people who have grown to become very good friends that I can laugh and be myself with. The other reason being because I got to listen to some very good music.
A very warm and sunny day turned into a warm and sunny evening and Talking Heads turned into a very warm and sweaty pub. Going in to watch Jet Heeled Striker the air had a heavy scent of alcohol, sweaty young men and hormones with an undercurrent of day old suntan cream and perfume. Odd mixture, but strangely it worked well together. It was a smell that reminded me of freedom, of throwing myself into a gig and not caring about anything but being there to soak in the magic being played in front of me.
And tonight I needed some of that magic, I needed to feel the magic music wash over me and sooth my battered soul a little. It didn't fail. They seemed to play heavier than I've heard them play before. Maybe it was my imagination, the heavy atmosphere mixing with the sound and giving that vibe. It was 100% what I needed though.
There seemed an extra richness in Adams singing tonight that I'm assuming is because he's quit smoking - it's definitely worth the struggle because his singing held it's own against the power and volume emanating from the rest of the band.
It's my opinion that getting a balance between the singer and the music on a CD must be pretty easy - there's enough buttons in a recording studio to make anything sellable no matter how crap it is in it's raw form. I've seen so many bands that have been promising on CD but live either the singer gets drowned out and lost, or it's all about the singer and the music becomes secondary. Not the case with these guys, and certainly not the case today. They marry so well together, no one part of the band or one person is more important than the other. The music is as important as the lyrics, and today they were executed in a beautifully heavy way.
So, I just want to thank them for giving my soul a much needed metaphorical hug and leaving me feel happier than I have for a while.
Cut Myself And See My Blood, I Want To Go Home All Covered In Mud
Seventeen months. Seventeen fucking months. Fucked up.
What A Drag It Is Getting Old
I'm going to see Gran tomorrow; she had a fall week before last in M&S and she's 87 next week, so I'm going to wish her happy birthday and also to check up on her. I find these days I'm constantly worrying about her in the back of my mind - will she fall, will she hurt herself with her failing eyesight, will she have another stroke, will she get a chest infection which coupled with her emphysema be really dangerous, will she have heart failure????? Questions which of course I cannot answer but plague me in that part of the night where the darkness allows all those thoughts through which are blocked by the business of the day.
My gran is my only grandparent I have left: my grandad died when I was twelve, Great Gran at fourteen, Grandad at sixteen and Grandma a week before my nineteenth birthday (thick and fast for a few years but those four are just the tip of the ice berg for grief and loss in those years - a subject for another blog at another time). She means the world to me although she drives me mad at the same time. As she ages she gets more belligerent, more critical, more narrow minded. She also is kind and loves her family to the ends of the world.
I watched Grandma slowly disappear to Alzheimer's over about eleven years and at times I'm not being overly dramatic when I say it damn near killed me. The idea of watching Grans body slowly give out on her over time breaks my heart. It's already doing that - her stroke, her emphysema, something wrong with her heart, rheumatoid arthritis. I just don't know how I'm going to manage to go through this again. And look after my lovely Mum at the same time who is terrified of what's happening.
My gran is my only grandparent I have left: my grandad died when I was twelve, Great Gran at fourteen, Grandad at sixteen and Grandma a week before my nineteenth birthday (thick and fast for a few years but those four are just the tip of the ice berg for grief and loss in those years - a subject for another blog at another time). She means the world to me although she drives me mad at the same time. As she ages she gets more belligerent, more critical, more narrow minded. She also is kind and loves her family to the ends of the world.
I watched Grandma slowly disappear to Alzheimer's over about eleven years and at times I'm not being overly dramatic when I say it damn near killed me. The idea of watching Grans body slowly give out on her over time breaks my heart. It's already doing that - her stroke, her emphysema, something wrong with her heart, rheumatoid arthritis. I just don't know how I'm going to manage to go through this again. And look after my lovely Mum at the same time who is terrified of what's happening.
It's A Nice Day For A White Wedding
My best friend got wed yesterday. I don't know if I can really put into words the range of emotions I felt throughout the course of the day. What I do know is that there is a 'lovely' photo of me in tears that my friend posted on facebook for the world to see: thanks Caz for that! It's a very strange feeling when friends marry, it took me a lot to get my head around Caz marrying five (?) years ago and this one wasn't any easier. I've spent a large amount of my twenties trying to ignore I'm technically an adult; something which is not getting any easier the closer I get to thirty. Watching friends marry is very much a slap in the face of a reminder that we are now adults and not teenagers anymore.
Jenn's been my friend since we were thirteen and passing notes in German about Arran on Byker Grove and how cute he was with his leather necklace - yes, we did even buy ourselves one and call it our Arran Band! This formed a sturdy base to what became a very good friendship in college which has continued through uni and to today. So when she and her lovely lovely husband were stood up there dedicating their lives to each other I was suddenly struck with an image of her in her Arran Band and school uniform, and the tears began for the first time of the day.
Chatting with her mum with tears flowing for I think the fourth time of the day we tried to make sense of the feelings - that everything has changed but everything is still the same. So although I have not lost my best friend (and she's probably berating me for even suggesting this if she's reading it!) I do feel that life has shifted - like the universe has had some kind of realignment over night.
My overwhelming feeling from the day was one of immense proudness - Jenn looked absolutely beautiful and so very happy, content and comfortable. I guess if I had to pick a word to describe Jenn and Chris it would be 'comfortable' - they're fantastic friends which makes them such a good couple. Chris has been part of my life for nine years now too and he's an important friend too, separate from them as a couple. I couldn't be happier or prouder of either of them.
It really was a very nice day for a very great white wedding!
Jenn's been my friend since we were thirteen and passing notes in German about Arran on Byker Grove and how cute he was with his leather necklace - yes, we did even buy ourselves one and call it our Arran Band! This formed a sturdy base to what became a very good friendship in college which has continued through uni and to today. So when she and her lovely lovely husband were stood up there dedicating their lives to each other I was suddenly struck with an image of her in her Arran Band and school uniform, and the tears began for the first time of the day.
Chatting with her mum with tears flowing for I think the fourth time of the day we tried to make sense of the feelings - that everything has changed but everything is still the same. So although I have not lost my best friend (and she's probably berating me for even suggesting this if she's reading it!) I do feel that life has shifted - like the universe has had some kind of realignment over night.
My overwhelming feeling from the day was one of immense proudness - Jenn looked absolutely beautiful and so very happy, content and comfortable. I guess if I had to pick a word to describe Jenn and Chris it would be 'comfortable' - they're fantastic friends which makes them such a good couple. Chris has been part of my life for nine years now too and he's an important friend too, separate from them as a couple. I couldn't be happier or prouder of either of them.
It really was a very nice day for a very great white wedding!
But Maybe I'm Crazy, Maybe You're Crazy, Maybe We're Crazy, Probably
People may well want to have me sectioned after this blog entry, but it's something I've been thinking about and may be sending myself more crazy than I already am (which is an ironic comment given what I'm about to write).
I've spent the last year in therapy as a requirement of my course. Well it started off as a requirement of my course and ended up being for me. I know myself better now that I ever have, but at the same time the more I've got to know the more I think there still is that I don't really know or understand. Sometimes I think I'm quite a together person, and I'm pretty sure I often present this way to people - friends, family, colleagues, clients. Other times though I think I'm about three steps away from complete meltdown crazy. I don't know if this is just me, am I the only one who questions their own sanity (at what seems to be quite frequent intervals)?? Is the very fact that I question it enough to have me locked up? Or is me questioning it a sign of me being 'normal'? I live in fear that someone will turn around and tell me I'm too screwed up to be a counsellor. That they will take away the one good thing I really love. Then the moral questions start up: if I'm thinking this then should I walk away now? Or, do I trust the process I've gone through, the assessments I have had, the therapy I have had and the supervision I have still? Or is my problem none of them... is it that I WANT to be 'crazy'?? I've always cringed away from the word 'normal' - is this me being terrified that I've healed and I've become (horror of horrors) normal?? And if I have, why is that such a bad thing?
I don't know if there are answers to my questions. Or even what the question is that I'm trying to ask. I just know that sometimes I feel so totally fucked up and that scares me. Other times I feel so total together and that scares me too.
I've spent the last year in therapy as a requirement of my course. Well it started off as a requirement of my course and ended up being for me. I know myself better now that I ever have, but at the same time the more I've got to know the more I think there still is that I don't really know or understand. Sometimes I think I'm quite a together person, and I'm pretty sure I often present this way to people - friends, family, colleagues, clients. Other times though I think I'm about three steps away from complete meltdown crazy. I don't know if this is just me, am I the only one who questions their own sanity (at what seems to be quite frequent intervals)?? Is the very fact that I question it enough to have me locked up? Or is me questioning it a sign of me being 'normal'? I live in fear that someone will turn around and tell me I'm too screwed up to be a counsellor. That they will take away the one good thing I really love. Then the moral questions start up: if I'm thinking this then should I walk away now? Or, do I trust the process I've gone through, the assessments I have had, the therapy I have had and the supervision I have still? Or is my problem none of them... is it that I WANT to be 'crazy'?? I've always cringed away from the word 'normal' - is this me being terrified that I've healed and I've become (horror of horrors) normal?? And if I have, why is that such a bad thing?
I don't know if there are answers to my questions. Or even what the question is that I'm trying to ask. I just know that sometimes I feel so totally fucked up and that scares me. Other times I feel so total together and that scares me too.
Sometimes It's Better To Be Second Best
Guess what I did last night? Yep, I continued my quest to become number one groupie for Jet Heeled Striker (a position that it looks like I have some competition for!). This time my journey took me to The Joiners in Southampton. The Joiners has a special place in the hearts of those musically inclined that grew up in and around Southampton. I have it under good authority that it has not altered in the last twenty years, and that's probably one of the great things about it - they're not show biz or image conscious: it's a place where people who love good music and new music and local music have given like minded people a place to access it. It's a place where dreams really have come true, and it's seen some famous people play inside its four walls - the likes of Oasis, Coldplay, The Libertines, We Are Scientists to name just a couple. When Adam told me that they were playing there, it felt like something really special. As brilliant as it is to be accepted to play anywhere when you're starting out and trying to get known, getting to play in The Joiners kind of felt like stepping up a level.
I do have something I need to say about going to watch them play as much as I do. As I've said, I've known Adam from school, and whether he believes me or not, I have always had faith in him and how talented he is, so of course I want to support my friend in his dreams. I'd support him regardless of whether or not I liked the music - maybe not so often but I'd still turn up! The reason I go though is because I genuinely enjoy their music, I love to watch them play and I love to watch them grow into what they're becoming and what they want to be. And last night was a really really good gig. The second song they played rocked the night for me. This will seem like an odd comparison but to me it was like a mix of early Manic Street Preachers and The Deftones. It was the music of my youth (god that makes me sound about one hundred years old). The music that made me realise that I was not the only one who felt the way I did and that other people were not happy to just accept things the way they are. It's the music that made me feel alive for the first time and still has that affect now. When I hear music like their second song it just works for me, it's music that makes sense to me. It's not the glamorous music that attracts the masses, but it's pure and honest and a bit rough around the edges. It's punk in it's attitude if not in it's sound. So the second song may be second best to a lot of people, but to me it's my favourite. Even more than Generation X. Sometimes it IS better to be second best.
I do have something I need to say about going to watch them play as much as I do. As I've said, I've known Adam from school, and whether he believes me or not, I have always had faith in him and how talented he is, so of course I want to support my friend in his dreams. I'd support him regardless of whether or not I liked the music - maybe not so often but I'd still turn up! The reason I go though is because I genuinely enjoy their music, I love to watch them play and I love to watch them grow into what they're becoming and what they want to be. And last night was a really really good gig. The second song they played rocked the night for me. This will seem like an odd comparison but to me it was like a mix of early Manic Street Preachers and The Deftones. It was the music of my youth (god that makes me sound about one hundred years old). The music that made me realise that I was not the only one who felt the way I did and that other people were not happy to just accept things the way they are. It's the music that made me feel alive for the first time and still has that affect now. When I hear music like their second song it just works for me, it's music that makes sense to me. It's not the glamorous music that attracts the masses, but it's pure and honest and a bit rough around the edges. It's punk in it's attitude if not in it's sound. So the second song may be second best to a lot of people, but to me it's my favourite. Even more than Generation X. Sometimes it IS better to be second best.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)