Depression Talk

Today was my last shift ever at a dead-end job that I loved. Really, words are not enough to describe how many times this job actually tore me up from the depths of despair, how many times the people I worked with lent me a hand and dragged my sorry ass out to where it belonged.

I had originally planned to have a party with my co-workers, but time, exams, and life in general seem to have gotten in the way of that. And so, I invited no less than everyone I know to come and see me sing my farewell to the Big City.

I was on stage and I totally blanked out on the lyrics to my absolute favorite song. Completely. As in, standing on stage like a deer in the headlights, like a mouse eyeing a cat’s teeth, and I simply lost my ability to sing the song.

And as nonchallantly as ever, I started talking. First I played through the chord run and said “A little help here?” But the problem with being on stage is that you can’t really hear anything anyone else ever says.

And so then, still managing to play my guitar, I started talking about how absolutely sucky it is to forget your lyrics on stage.

I got the biggest round of applause ever.

So I began to sing an original. And during that song, I started to shake.

This was not the type os shaking that has happened since last fall, when that infamous doctor tried to kill me. It was a full-body kind of shaking. It was a legs-shaking, Honey, you’re about to collapse kind of shaking. I’ve never had such shakiness in all my life. It was terrifying.

As a result of this shakiness, I lost my breath, and as anyone who’s ever spoken and breathed at the same time, breathing is a fairly pertinent action in terms of maintaining an ability to speak. In singing, it is even more pertnent.

At this point I lost my breath completely and the Serpent that is mine had wrapped itself around me entirely. It tried its best to strangle me on stage in front of all of my favorite friends. My legs were shaking to the point where I was sure I would collapse entirely, and I started having such panic about what might happen to my guitar that I lost the words again.

This time, however, I regained the words, and while the shaking continued…. So did I.

I think that I played the best set I’ve ever played before in my life tonight. I am ever so proud of myself for coming out and for singing my heart out. At the same time, I’m so proud of having overcome something that is strong enough to take me out any old time it wants. But I stood up in its face.

And I returned victorious.

Amanda