Today I turned back to music, because I was losing my grip and I know (when I remember) that when that’s happening the best thing for me is to turn back to music, my favourite kind of therapy.
In many years past, back in what must have been another life, music was my world and playing in an orchestra or singing in a choir was a way to guarantee that feel good factor. It was a long time ago, but music still works if I give it a chance. And so today I pulled out a movie soundtrack from the 1980’s. It’s one that others have told me they find depressing, but for me it’s the opposite. It lifts my spirits every time… and gives me some peace. I don’t imagine that you’ll click on it, and that’s ok. The music is for me, and if anyone else gets something from it, then that is a bonus.
It has been a really hard week, and while many times, I have sat down to write, the part of me that withdraws when I’m struggling pulled me back from writing. I realise at the other end of the week that while friends tell me to reach out and ask for help, I simply don’t know how. Does that sound crazy?
Logically I know it’s three words “I need help” but actually those words are so hard to say, especially when you’re used to being independent. I’ve attempted it in different places a number of times but have come away silenced by my fears and insecurities. I need to be very clear that I silenced myself, rather than anyone doing or saying anything to silence me.
For a number of reasons, right now I am struggling to know who to trust, even to know who is real. I’ve experienced the good, the bad and the ugly lately, and while the good still outweighs the rest, the worst of it colours my picture of the world and leaves me scared, even paranoid of who is really there for me.
Don’t get me wrong. I have some wonderful friends who have done their best to be here for me, but it’s me that keeps pushing them away because I simply don’t know who, if anyone, is trustworthy now.
I want to trust people again. I want to know that people are good. I want to believe that I’m not alone. I need to know that the world is a good place, and that the good and pure-hearted will win out against the bad and the ugly.
This week I have been rapidly running out of hope. That’s right, I’ve been running out of hope. It’s been hard to see the point anymore. Yesterday a dear friend offered to hold onto my hope for me, and that is exactly what I needed. We agreed to hold onto hope for each other, and somehow that seems so much easier than doing it alone. I am very lucky to have her gift.
So I keep going. The overwhelming urge is to run to under the covers of my bed. There it feels safe. There it feels that the bad and the ugly can’t get to me there. There I have no need for the paranoia and the anxiety. There is peace. I know I can’t stay there 24/7 but just sometimes it’s the best place to be.
“There is a saying in Tibetan, ‘Tragedy should be utilized as a source of strength.’ No matter what sort of difficulties, how painful experience is, if we lose our hope, that’s our real disaster.”
― Dalai Lama XIV