One of the things I like about modern cars is that the music systems can now take digital cards full of music. We had it in our last car and I love the way I can have all my favourite music easily accessible; the new car is the same in this respect but with improved access. Cars are unique in their small closed environment which creates a wonderful fully immersive sound box. I can have my music on loud and sing along with abandon because nobody else is with me. It is an illusion of course in that there will be plenty of people outside the car that can hear what is going on but they don’t register normally (I may quieten down whilst stopping at a pedestrian crossing) and anyway, I am moving on so any effect I have on others is only temporary.
Before leaving for my consultant’s appointment on Thursday I slipped in my SD card full of music and thought singing along should be good for lowering my blood pressure (which wasn’t taken in the end). What to play though? I plumped for something old and familiar and chose Ultravox’s last album called “Brilliant”. Although Midge Ure’s vocal range is higher than mine (he’s quite a bit smaller than me as well) I generally can match his pitch without too much falsetto, though I have to be careful not to strain the old cords too much.
The album starts with the track called “Live” which normally I skip over preferring the second track called Flow. This time though I let the album run from the start and the chorus to Live hit a chord in my head:
Don’t you know you’ll learn to live again,
Soon to find your road to everything,
Don’t you know you’ll learn to love again.
It seemed to resonant with my whole reason to blog and my voyage of self-discovery.
I love the sound scape of the second track Flow but the words from pretty much the whole song have always hit home:
If I could feel some kind of feeling, …
If I could live a life with some meaning, …
If I could grow one seed of belief in me, …
These are the first line of the verses and encapsulate main features of depression for me, again a reason for writing my blog.
The third track Brilliant starts with the verse:
Somewhere sure, somewhere safe inside,
A world where you reside,
Where chance and trust have died,
A world where you can,
Hide away, hide away,
No tomorrow, no today.
This reminds me of my safe place after I have been overwhelmed by my surroundings, where the future and even the present looks rather bleak.
The fourth track is entitled Change and immediately chimes with my desire to be more than I am:
I am the road I walk alone,
Exposed and turned to stone,
A heart without a home, …
I am the wall I build along,
The line that I have drawn,
So cold and dark and strong, …
Turn around and make the change,
Turn around and love will happen, …
These words encourage me to be more open and accepting about myself so that I can reach out be accepted by others.
The fifth track is called Rise and talks about somebody giving you all the things you supposedly need i.e. fame and fortune but is really only interested in helping himself make more money to further his own ends:
I give you the best of everything,
I’m here to grow your little monuments, …
I’ll cheat and lie,
To give you all the things you need,
To help you get the things I need for me.
This reminds me that it is so easy to get caught up with the expectations of everyone else that I can lose myself and make myself miserable, which is how I have lived my life to a certain extent until recently.
As I pull into the multi-storey carpark at the hospital the sixth track “Remembering” is playing and I sit in the car listening to it after I have parked, to let it finish. I have been musing recently on the ghosts of people I have known in places that still exist; this track resonates with those thoughts but I think I will leave this for another post.
As the tracks played out on my journey to Dundee, I was amazed at the relevance of each track to my personal journey since the last time I had seen My Consultant. I am coming to terms with depression and searched for understanding through my writing and acceptance of my autism; it seems that unconsciously I understand myself better than I knew.