It’s not often that I find a song with lyrics that really resonate with me. Oh, I find a lot of music that I love and that I will listen to over and over because I like the way it makes me feel, but I’m more likely to find a song that makes me think of one of my creative projects (or that gives me an idea for a new one) than to find one I like that feels personal.
I stumbled across Oceanlab’s Sirens of the Sea album on a friend’s spotify, though, and added the album to mine because I loved it so much. I was quite surprised to be listening to the song On A Good Day and hear sentiments applicable to my own life right now. I listened to it over and over and cried.
“A little bit lost, a little bit lonely, a little bit cold here, a little bit of fear – but I hold on, and I feel strong, and I know that I can”
I wouldn’t say it’s a little bit of loneliness and fear – it’s quite a lot actually – but it exists alongside surging determination to change my life.
“Been talking to myself forever, and how I wish I knew my better, still sitting on a shelf and never seen the sun shine brighter, and it feels like me on a good day”
I literally talk to myself,* so there’s that. And I’ve been digging myself out of the religious indoctrination that put me on a shelf, learning to know myself better. The idea of having a life beyond the shelf feels like a wonderful treasure to search for, where even the search itself is a preferable state of being, even if I never reach the end of that search before I shuffle off the mortal coil. On a good day I do feel like me.
“I’m a little bit hemmed in, a little bit isolated, a little bit hopeful, a little bit calm – but I hold on, and I feel strong, and I know that I can”
Quite a lot hemmed in (it’s not particularly encouraging when your therapist agrees that you’ve got no good options right now and that you’re in a bit of a catch 22 situation) and yet, there’s still hope and still, surprisingly, calm. At least on the good days.
“Getting used to it, lit the fuse to it, like to know who I am”
In yesterday’s session, my therapist talked about family units and family dynamics and how when one person decides they’re going to change and grow and get healthy, and that growth requires change from the people around them, that those people will often respond by trying to prevent that change (whether aware they’re doing that or not) – so the family can remain in their own set comfortable patterns. She wanted me to be aware of that so that I wouldn’t let myself be held back that way.
I told her I didn’t think that would happen, now. Sure, they could slow me down, and make the progress more tiresome, but I haven’t spent all these years battling to freedom and knowledge and acceptance of myself to go back to the way I was. It’s forward or nowhere at all.
I’ve lit the fuse.
*I will continue to talk to myself, and to animals and trees and rivers in spite of lacking belief in mystical spirits I can commune with. As long as I’m alone, anyway. Ahem. I’m a weirdo, but I mostly try to keep my weirdness to myself.