burden

Oh, sit down…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

Yesterday was one of those ugh days. I had a couple of medical appointments and a few errands to run. I was tired and sore, but it was a sunny day, so off I set.

My mood took the first knock when my taxi driver has a rant about how short my journey was. Granted I wasn’t going far, but I can’t get about on foot. If I want to go somewhere, I need a taxi. Next up was a rude & unhelpful woman in the chemist. She made it very clear that finding my prescription was an inconvenience. Much huffing, puffing and snarky comments ensued, which drew stares from other customers. The final nail in the coffin of my day was the hospital receptionist who would not source a chair for me, but also got angry when I sat on the floor. Sitting on the floor is hazard, but passing out because I cannot stand apparently is not.

Rubbish day, but not the end of the world, right? If these were isolated incidents I would probably just brush them off. The problem is, it happens all the time. Being a disabled person out in the world can be a challenge. Accessibility is a problem, but even requests for basic accommodations can be met with irritation. On some level, I understand that. Work can be exhausting, maybe you’re having a bad day and being asked for something extra could just tip you over. However, most of my life is exhausting. I don’t make these requests to be awkward, I need them.

The result is I get apologetic. I begin my request with ‘I’m sorry, but’ or ‘I don’t want to be pest, but’. I feel like an inconvenience for asking. I anticipate that my accessibility request may not be well received. Listen, inside I often feel like getting arsey. My natural demeanour is not push over. I just know it won’t help. I also rarely have the energy for the fight. Thus, I find myself simultaneously pissed off at being made to feel bothersome & apologising for the perceived trouble.

I don’t need any help on the guilt front. I already feel like a burden to people that matter. Is it too much to ask that strangers don’t make me feel like shit? My needs are very straightforward; a seat mainly. I dread to think how anyone with a more complex requirement fares. All I’d ask is that before you roll your eyes or have a moan consider that this a moment of inconvenience for you is a lifetime of fuckery for us. Maybe you could just zip your lips and grab a chair after all?

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This week I have been mostly…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 2 Comments

Been having too many feelings. It’s been a busy old time on the emotional front. There have been a bunch of triggers that I’m not going to go into, but the result has been a pretty messy me. I’ve done what I always do when I don’t think I can trust what I feel; retreat whilst I decode. I’ve spent a lot of time with myself listening to music that either comforts or acts as a conduit for those emotions. Thus I present, all the tunes that I’ve been hitting repeat on.

Teenage Talk by St Vincent is simultaneously sweet & deep. It’s wistful sound is definitely aided by the harpsichord & the fluid tone of St Vincent’s voice. The song pours over you like tequila smoothly warming your insides. The lyrics capture the both the nostalgic way we view the past & the reality of why our youth is so alluring. As the song says, our teenage years were before we made any terrible mistakes, but our golden days are also probably much more mundane than we remember. I like the hope that realisation brings. Simpler isn’t always better.

I first heard Strangers on Graham Norton, which is probably a sign that I am very old, but the nevertheless I instantly loved it. I just really like the sound of Sigrid’s voice, so I suspect I’ll like anything she releases. The changing tempo of this one is very pleasing. The sort of ‘anti romance propaganda’ of the lyrics paired with heartbeat like bass is incredibly appealing. I’m loving it.

I’m mostly loving this next song because if I close my eyes when I listening it transports me to warm blue waters & floating peacefully. After a few listens of Lana Del Rey’s, Get Free the lyrics sunk in & spoke to me. Being ‘crazy’ can feel like being stuck on a ride that you can’t get off. Even in recovery I often need to remind myself that sometimes I can press stop. I like the imagery of stepping out of the black & into the blue. I also very much enjoy sinking into depths of its instrumentation.

You know sometimes you hear a song & it feels like it was written just for you? That’s how I felt when the first time I listened to Lorde’s Liability. In fact, it took me quite a few plays not to cry. In describing her own very different situation she perfectly summed up how I feel about by interactions with other people. Through a combination of mental illness, physical illness & just being a pretty weird person I have learned to feel that I’m difficult to love. The lyrics of this song sum up my internal thought process perfectly. I’m the kind of person who can be exciting & different. My weirdness seems fun, my crazy a little wild, but the novelty always wears off. In the end the whole package is trouble. I’m too hard & my charm wears off. In short,

‘I’m a liability. A little too much for everyone’

For a long time I was completely convinced that summation was 100% correct. Then as I got stronger I began to believe that maybe it wasn’t true at all. Man, that negative voice in my head is strong, though. So, honestly sometimes I still feel like liability is a spot on description. Sometimes I think it’s only half true. Other times I just can’t decide what’s true at all. Regardless, it’s a beautiful song. Soft piano based sections spelling out sadness. Extended phrases that almost make you run out of breath as you rush to complete them; just like the panic you feel when you realise someone is leaving you. It’s a stunningly painful song. That leaves you hurting in all the right ways.

The Guillemots are incredibly underrated. Their songs invariably hit all my spots & I don’t feel amazing now is no exception. From the second the song starts the music & lyrics are expertly entwined. The slowly rising chords are the perfect aural interpretation of the lyrical plea for help. The beautiful honesty of just admitting, I do not feel good is refreshing. The combination of wanting to be left alone, but also really needing someone to take your hand and make it ok is too familiar. The surprisingly hopeful note in such a despondent song is again emulated in the introduction of steel dreams to the orchestration. It lifts the song onto another level & has me hitting that repeat button time & again.

‘Just take my hand & stop the moonlight fading

Just take my hand & lead me up the stairs

Just take my hand & make me feel amazing,

‘Cos I don’t feel amazing now…’