As with many, my relationship with music truly began when I was a young teen, and has remained personally pivotal ever since. Just as I started to explore my musical tastes, however, I also began to battle with my own understanding and why I was starting to feel certain ways – in effect, a deep emptiness, a lowness I couldn’t fathom or break away from easily.
I wouldn’t begin to actively seek proper help for my mental health until my early twenties, so my grasp of what was going on was limited, attempting to sweep whatever I was feeling under the rug and treating it as something that might just disappear. It was music, of all things, that gave me the motivation to feel something when not a great deal else would, embodying the treasured moments of exhilaration that at times would honestly come few and far between.
What’s more, it also opened up the notion to me of being able to openly express how was I feeling. It gave me the strength to feel remotely ‘myself’ and consequently feel enough self-assurance to actually face what I was dealing with.
I wholeheartedly believe in music’s organic ability to speak to you without you expecting it, especially when struggling with such feelings, as I and many have done. Music’s cathartic qualities are well-documented in the broader sense, but your own story is unquestionably unique in invoking its true potential.
Music helped me find my voice, and I feel incredibly fortunate to have found something that can not only carry my emotional weight in times of need, but even lead me to a place of comfort to tell of my own experience – and hopefully that may help others who haven’t quite found something to empower them yet.