I have been pondering this for some time, and now I know the answer for sure. One hundred percent sure. If we are depressed, and we listen to music that makes us feel better, because we can relate, then it is keeping you in your pain. I was just asked by my sweet Columbian girl, to listen to a song she likes. We had been discussing the Butterfly Project I told you about, for people who either cut themselves or want to commit suicide, and slice the wrist veins. The butterfly is because most people can love that butterfly more than themselves in the moment of horrendous pain. They can choose not to kill that butterfly, easier than choosing not to kill themselves.
Anyway, I listened to the song. At first I thought, oh, no, this is NOT what you need to be watching when you are depressed. Then, as the song and video went on, I fell in. I fell in. I fell in hard and was relating to the words, remembering the pain, the loneliness, the agony, the bitterness, the anguish, the misery, the pain. Tears from long ago once again poured down my cheeks and I fell in harder. Harder. I am so grateful for this experience because it satisfies something for me once and for all. I am still there. Still down down down. Father, please, use me while you can. I am in an abyss. This proves my point in the extreme. I can barely type, I can barely see, the tears do not cease. How do I get back out? How do I get back to the happy? The answer lies in the whole reason for this post, so by darn, it better work. The answer is to listen to a different frequency. Hold on.
Ok, it’s been about a half an hour. I went down the face book scroll, freely “liking” anything I wanted. I don’t usually do that, even if it doesn’t seem so. Still no good. Had to go to you tube and find Adele, Rollin in the Deep. It finally succeeded in pulling me out of the black funk. I guess I’ve always known it, but never connected the dots. The music I listen to, either keeps me in the dark or it brings me out into the light. That’s it, two choices. It first started rollin and rattlin around my brain when I began listening to O Children, a song by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, when I dug my babies graves. It was a freakin bad year here as far as that goes. I would use my Iphone, put the song on repeat, and Dig……and wail.
(Only use this song if you need to cry for some purpose!!!)
This got me to thinking. And then tonight, thanks to my friend, an experiment has been done, for us, by God/Spirit which proves my hunch. My hunch is…..there is a very fine line between grieving and ceasing to fully exist. Due to the circumstances of my life, I witness grief that lasts 10 years, Intense grief. I wonder at what point grieving became so comfortable for them that they chose to stay? To stay in the mud. I now call it the mud. It’s earthy and comfortable and familiar, but it can bog you down or swallow you up. It’s sticky, all encompassing, gooey, icky mud.
I ponder things. I’ve been pondering this for months. I have a unique perspective because I no longer grieve my existence. I no longer grieve. Not in that way anyway. Sure, I grieve lightly, and still miss the dickens out of them, but they are gone and I am here. Grief over a death is no different than grief of ones existence, as I just said. Pain is pain, deep pain is deep pain. Extra double triple pain with misery and thorns on top, is still,…. Just….pain. I type these things at night. My girls call it Prime Time Miss Sheri. In other words, I’ve had a few beers and I am looser. More free to say what’s on my mind. In fact, these things come on when they come on. It is, 2:08am. I should be in bed.
Man alive, that was horrible. Jeesh. The thing that was wrong with the video, in case you are wondering, is that it was about accepting a helping hand. You’d have to watch the video to see what I mean, but it was this offering of hope, after showing the guy on the ledge…just took me straight back. I’m so glad I’m me, who has learned how to deal, but what about the others who don’t have as much experiencing in Dealing? I try to teach, that’s as close as I can get.
God, it saddens me that there are so many in pain. I see it at every corner, every space I go, every place I go. I hear it on the internet. It can be deciphered even if you don’t say it in so many words. Look at me, I can twist a statement around on it’s heels. I see it, even if you try to hide it behind fancy wording.
Empathy requires refilling of light, good energy. Just like depression. Hmmm. I need filled.
Ok, so back to the song. It was the we are here for you, we will all come together for you, we hurt for you….reinforced over and over and over. What does that do to the psyche? It makes it feel bad for itself. It is shamed of itself, it hates itself. It is not worthy of saying that, doing that, even being here. The we are here for you, I am not afraid, take my hand…when in reality, there is no hand being offered, no person standing with you, just lyrics and a voice.
Pain like this, even smaller, still can occupy the brain 24/7. We wake up with it, we go to bed with it. Oh ya, and once again folks, this is JUST mental pain. Add physical pain to that and it like quadruplezzzzz.
So, find music that elevates you. Find music that inspires you, but doesn’t feed the sad ego. Take it as a challenge. Yay for surprise God given experiments!!!!
Here is the link to the song:
I woke up this morning with the feeling that I didn’t quite explain it yet. I read this back for Cathy, then I played the video for her. She liked the video and thought it was inspirational. Which proves that I still have not yet come to the nitty gritty of it all. All I’m saying is, if you are sad or depressed and you play a song often, please, check to see how it makes you feel inside. Does it make you feel better? Does it give you hope? True hope? Or does it feed the sadness, and the loneliness? Does it make you want to cry and lay in the mud? If it makes you cry and lay in the mud, perhaps you will find another song that inspires you to get up, get out, go…..go on.
I’m glad I’m strong because what happened last night could have broken me again. But it didn’t. It was another step on my journey of wisdom and light. It doesn’t get any more real than this. When I read the above words to Cathy this morning, it came rushing back and I chocked back tears to read it to her. That is how strongly this song affected me. The last time something like this happened was when my son and I were watching Harry Potter. Harry was dancing and I noticed the song. My son found it and downloaded it for me. I put my earphones on and started to listen. I cried. For over an hour I sobbed and sobbed, not knowing the words but my spirit filling in with whatever words it needed for me. It was O Children. My grave digging song. Each song, or work of art has it’s place, sometimes in the forefront and sometimes in the background. As is needed.
I asked my face book friends to draw a butterfly on their wrists and send or post a photo of it. The way I see it, if this butterfly keeps this girl and any other peoples from harming themselves, then yay for her and yay for us because she is still here. This girls friends make fun of her for putting a butterfly on her wrist. They tell her it’s stupid and doesn’t work. If she or they are still alive, then it does work. And as long as it works, I will put a new butterfly every time these wear off, in support of the hard work these people are going through. It is very hard work to live when everything in you wants to die. It would be my wish that there were butterfly’s on wrists all across the globe. The ones who need the butterfly, it is just a butterfly alone. The ones who are supporting those people, have the words…The Butterfly Project, written by the butterfly, and maybe even the name of the person they are supporting. Mine says….Mayerli, and it is pronounced…Matchelly……………!
Ahhh, My goats are happy right now. It’s very hot, but there is a breeze, so all the girls are out in the pasture when they are usually in the shade at his time. Lovey was looking a little thin, so I gave him an extra this morning and found a 33 oz bottle at the store today, so I can raise the one 20 oz bottle to one 33 oz bottle and maybe he won’t look so gaunt. He’s eating grain and hay but he just is too thin for my taste. This new bottle is practically bigger than he is!
Lucy the goose has been getting off her nest more and more lately. She still sits on it at night, but there is nothing in it, as usual. Remember, this normally happens in February. We are almost to July. Poor Lucy.
I’ve been working with Geiser, the babypup, and giving him more attention(TV), and it’s working. He hasn’t challenged me in a few weeks. Now, I still need to be careful when they are in play mode, but I’m thinking we’re getting somewhere. Yay. The pups ate the rain ruined goat food, so it didn’t go to waste, and now the Zen buggy has two flat tires. My husband is in Canada this week and I waited till he was nearly home before I announced that on the internet, lol. Hey, I’m a girl, we do this type thing. What, you want me to advertise that I’m home alone? Not. 🙂
Well, because I gave Lovey the extra bottle, he didn’t eat today. So glad I got that new huge bottle, that way, we go back to the 7-8 o’clock bottle, and he’s hungry and eats the grain and hay during the day. The BigBoys conned me out of some grain and Murphy the mule generously ate with them. It’s interesting, there are ones who share and ones who want to dominate all the food, period. And then the cows got a whiff from a thousand yards away and came a runnin. I told the boys to eat up fast!
I hope that in the end, I was able to explain enough. That you will understand what I was saying. I’m talking to all of you who suffer from depression or depressive bouts. I proved it. Trust me. Don’t make me have to do it again! 🙂 Signing off at Curly Locks Ranch.