Can Lyrics Save Your Life?

My brother, a music lover if there ever was one, was a great friend to many, many people, including me. Part of his charm was his ability to listen to a problem, immediately find a song that spoke to that, play it for you, then wait expectantly while some insight broke you open and you realized all the woes of the universe were now solved, or at least put in a perspective that made them bearable, manageable. It used to annoy the shit out of me. I was looking for advice from him. But he only spoke in other people's lyrics when there was something really heavy going on with me. Strange how I've caught myself doing the same thing in the guise of Poetry Therapy, courtesy of my MSW coursework at FSU.

I took a Poetry Therapy class with Dean Mazza (the world's expert in this area, apparently), and I felt a rightness down to my bones that this is what I wanted to incorporate into my practice as a therapist. Well, I say I took a class. I took half a class, because I had a crippling depressive episode hit mid-semester and I had to withdraw from that course (and others). But I still have the textbook, and I've used the technique in Trinidad and at my job in Enterprise. I dream of maybe one day getting certified in poetry therapy and opening my own expressive arts center ...

But back to my immediate reality.

There's this Zakk Wylde song Codie used to sing to me called "Throwin' It All Away." It's about depression and suicide. I fell in love with it instantly. I even did a scrapbook page about depression with some of the lyrics from that song:

You couldn't feel the sunlight upon your face
Your little world a little out of place
You couldn't hear the ocean
You couldn't hear the waves
I know you meant to come back
I know you meant to stay

I can't tell you how perfectly that captures depression for me. If I'm listening to that on repeat, BFF knows it's getting bad for me. (Side note: Listening to sad music doesn't make me sad. It feels good, in fact, when I'm depressed, because I feel less alone, like the write relates. Don't know if I've explained that earlier in the blog, but there it is.)

OK, so last night the TV show Nashville was on TV in Mama's living room. It's one of the few shows I actually watch, but I haven't seem it in a while. I didn't really want to tune in, because the storyline wouldn't make sense. But there was a scene starting where characters were going to perform, and I hate to miss out on a good song. Boy, am I glad I listened! There was this song called "It Ain't Yours to Throw Away." It's rocked me to the core. This bit especially:

That same road that brought you here
Will sure as hell take you home
The life you left behind will have you back
You're tired of paying dues in worn out shoes
and Broadway blues
And any fool will tell you
the damn ol' deck is stacked

What if you're just a vessel
And God gave you something special

It ain't yours to throw away
It ain't yours to throw away
Every time you open up your mouth
Diamonds come rolling out
It ain't yours to throw away
No ...

Some things are just God-sent. Or maybe Codie-sent. (Don't mean that to be sacrilegious; I just know Codie's looking out for me too.)

I don't know if diamonds come rolling out when I open my mouth ... BUT. I do remember quite vividly sitting in orientation for the MSW program, hearing the speakers that day say to all the incoming social worker students that our job in the world was twofold: to instill hope in our clients and to be a voice for the voiceless. I feel called to be in the social work field. I feel called to use my writing talents, meager though they may be, to speak out about my own experience as someone with bipolar disorder, and to advocate for the needs of other people living with mental illness. I certainly hope that my actions instill hope in people too. I hope that I can use my singing voice to entertain, to provide some therapeutic insights along the way even.

A mere 24  hours before I heard "It Ain't Yours to Throw Away" I was considering hospitalizing myself because of the suicidal thoughts that had invaded my brain again. A lot of things helped get me back on track, but that song? It solidified it. My attitude crystalized into: "These folks at Bridgeway better help me, and with a quickness, because I got shit to do."

It's nice to feel sassy and motivated again. It's even better to feel like I have a purpose, and that God will use me, work THROUGH me, to help other people. I just need to get well so I can get back to it.

I realize that shift in perspective may or may not be permanent, as I've still got brain chemistry to level out. But that's a lot closer to ME than I've felt in a long time. Praise God. And thank you too, lil bro, if you happened to have had a hand in it.