David Bazan Band - Live on KEXP
Hi, internet. I kind of a had a miserable day.
The morning sucked for a variety of reasons. Just a bunch of general emotional weight on my shoulders.
The afternoon was spent in a high school auditorium full of crying students and staff as I supported a video stream of the funeral of a student who recently lost his battle with cancer. So that was… not fun.
Then I came straight home and received a phone call from my dad (who is on his yearly migration to Florida, until March) and he wanted to know how I was feeling and we talked about the hockey season that is about to begin and then I hung up and burst into tears because goddamn, even though he is 76 and strong like bull… he’s 76. I kind of hate that he spends over two months of every year away from home, but I very much hate that I don’t spend enough time with him when he IS home, and that’s entirely my own fault. I’m just a tiny bit afraid of dying, but I’m very afraid of losing the people I love.
Then I watched this Bazan video and cried some more because those songs mean way too much to me and speak to me far too deeply for a narrative that is purely fictional. Also, I can’t help but feel bubbles of depression rise up through me when I see musicians making a living from doing what the love - what I love. Where did I go wrong that I didn’t end up there too? Yeah, “it’s never too late” blah blah blah, right; I know. I get it. Shit. I think I’d be happy doing pretty much any job that went into the making of that video - from being the musician or recording the audio/video or asking the questions.
Now it’s only 7:21pm on Thursday and I’m not tired enough to sleep but I certainly don’t feel like being awake. I’ll just do what I always do and pick up my guitar and see what happens. Lately, more often than not, it’s not much.
Some days I’m Crazy Monster.
Some days I’m a guy on the floor.
Today I’m the latter needing the former.
I had my eighth therapy session yesterday. I left without scheduling another. I’m not sure it has helped me much. One of my primary goals certainly didn’t see any progress, though I really don’t blame myself, because I’ve lived most of 2012 in an environment in which that goal was put to the test on an almost a daily basis.
Maybe this therapist just isn’t the right fit for me. Maybe I’m too stubborn to make the changes that are necessary for progress and growth. Maybe change is happening and I just can’t see it yet. All I know for sure is that there are still several times each day when I think about the choices I’ve made in the past few months and I question almost all of them.
What do I want? What do I need? Are they the same thing? Can they be?
Avoiding this scenario is one of the reasons why I wanted to pause last weekend and hold on to it for a while. (Taken with Instagram at Casa de Lopez)
It’s amazing to me that another week has passed, because there are multiple times each day when I become so entwined in my own thoughts that minutes feel like hours and I beg the earth to rotate more quickly.
Edited to add: After thinking about it for a few hours, I guess the above statement might come across as a bit melodramatic, but when I’m actually experiencing those moments it doesn’t seem that way at all.
I just deleted a bunch of bullet points about how I’m still feeling undeniably sad after only five days. Fuck that. There’s no need to spell it out in fine detail. I’m not well and I’m trying to manage my emotions as best I can.
The end of any relationship brings waves of memories from all over the emotional spectrum. I’m going to try my hardest to let the negative ones leave as quickly as they arrive and let the positive ones linger long enough to sustain my self-confidence.
I did all the right things. I stepped far outside my comfort zone. I took a chance and dove in head first. The water was the perfect temperature but I had no way of knowing what rested beneath the surface nor the number of lions that drank from its shore.
Almost every time I have a truly great day/night/weekend, I fall into a pretty substantial depression in the following days. It’s bad enough to make me consider avoiding enjoyable experiences altogether - the logic being that without the high there may not come the low.
Friday night was no exception; it was one of the best nights of my life and it saw me achieve one of my biggest goals since moving into this house. Now that it’s over, I’m struggling to find anything that is worth looking forward to.
I used to have a coworker that I really liked a lot but now she is dead to me because she sent me to the craigslist posting for this beagle/pointer mix named Patch.
I want a dog. I really really really want a dog. And Patch looks pretty much ideal. But, I just can’t have a dog in my life right now because I know I don’t have the time to commit to a pet, especially a very young, not-neutered, beagle-mix. Maybe if I was living with someone that could share the responsibility, then I’d be able to give it more serious consideration, but that’s not the situation. I hope whomever adopts Patch gives him the best life any dog could ever hope for.
And so, I used to have a coworker that I really liked a lot, but now she’s dead to me.