As you know, I’m not exactly articulate or clever with my words. I don’t try to be, I wouldn’t know how. I know that my biggest problem is that I write from the heart and possibly with too much feeling. I guess it’s because the music I love is like that. If I don’t write this way, then there’s really no point. I suppose that is why I know I will never ever be paid to do this for a living. That being a Music Writer is just some childhood dream that has followed me into adulthood- but it just stays a dream. I’m just another twerp with a Journalism degree who’s trying to be heard (I don’t want to be seen.) But anyway, that isn’t about that right now. This is going to be another post with a lot of feeling. I have no idea why I’m even doing this. Maybe it’s beause I have a awful cold, and I’ve had too much cough medicine. You don’t have to read this. And why should you anyway.
I have no idea how to approach this at all. I never do. You see, I can pour everything I feel about a song or band so easily here. It seems to be the easiest thing in the world. Ask me to tell you how I feel about certain people or whatever- I seem to lose words and the ability to function. I guess it’s why I’m always writing something. Whether it be here, in my poetry notebook or my lyric notebook. I’m always writing something, about something- or someone. I’m not an emotionally challenged person. I just lose the ability to make sense a lot of the time. Nor do I need to be drunk to tell you that I love you, or to ask you for 10p. I’ll start this for real now.
Something happened very close to a year ago. Something which every single person on this planet fears. I’ve never spoken about in great detail with anyone. I didn’t see the need. I didn’t see why I should or why anyone would give a shit. I spoke about it with one friend. In fact, we both cried about it. This is why she’s my best friend and rock. She’s one of the very very few people who changed me for the better. She won’t see this, so there’s no point in me praising her too much 😉 Last year my mother flew over to England to tell me she had Breast Cancer. My reaction was typical. I cried like a fucking baby and clung onto her like an ape. I think my heart and world stopped. I wanted to swear, but I respect my mother too much to use the word FUCK in front of her. Buggery and twat is fine though. It was something I never ever imagined I would hear. It wasn’t something I ever thought about. How I felt from that moment from then on is something I wouldn’t wish upon anyone- even someone I disliked. People say having your heartbroken by a lover is awful. Whatever. That’s nothing. This feeling is a trillion times worse. It makes the romantic kind of heartbreak seem like nothing. However, we’re all different and deal with life’s obstacles in different ways. If you’re anything like me, you do the whole “if I ignore it, it’ll go away but I know it will creep up and bite me in the arse.” Oh, and it did. It did.
I’m not writing this for anyone to think or feel, “You poor thing.” No. I’m doing this because I want to show how music, how a song can pull you through anything. Even something as horrific as this. My mum is one of the lucky ones. She is still here. However, when she tells me she’s in pain or doesn’t feel well- I panic so much internally. All I can do is offer a hug or a cup of tea. I know, I’m useless. When she was undergoing Radiotherapy she still managed to look amazing. I think she’s one of these people who cannot leave the house without make-up. She had her treatment in Sheffield, so I’d go up and see her a few times a week. She didn’t want me to go to the place where she was being treated, which I fully understood. Instead we’d wander around York, Manchester and Sheffield. I’d be lugged around clothes shops and in return, I’d make her go to record shops with me.
My mum is the most strongest and loving human beings I know. I saw how strong she was through all of this, and it just inspired me in ways that I didn’t know how. I never really sat down and spoke about this with her. I didn’t see how me talking about how I felt about her being ill would help. It wouldn’t rid her of cancer. It wouldn’t make this less real. My way was to just act like normal. In front of my friends, I would remain the joker doing my best to make them laugh- doing my best to make sure nobody ever caught onto how awful I felt. For a month or so, I just cried myself to sleep. There were times when leaving the house was seen as the most impossible thing ever. I just wanted to sleep, and when I woke up- I wanted none of this to have ever happened. I always thought, “Fucks sake Olivia. You have NO right to feel so bad. You’re not the one with cancer.” I told myself this all the time until I snapped out of it. I guess I had to trick myself into living again so I wouldn’t be a mess. Thing is, to everyone and anyone- I was totally fine. I was strong and together. I was told a few times that it was okay to break or whatever. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t physically go to a friend and just have an outburst. When my mum told me she was sick, I left her for an hour and I went to my best friend’s house. I sat on her bed. And just bawled. She did too. That was the first and last time I did that. I hate crying. It gives me a migraine.
I’m not writing this to make anyone feel sorry for me, or for anyone to praise me or anything. I’m doing this for one reason. I’m writing this to make someone else see that…it’s fucking okay to be a mess you know? Just because you reach rock bottom doesn’t mean you cannot get up again. Use Music as your fucking crutch. I did. Certain songs (which I will link you to in a bit) pulled me through. When I couldn’t sleep or when I didn’t feel too great- these songs gave me something. I’m not exactly the poster-child for bravery. I think the cowardly lion is possibly my spirit animal sometimes. I think I’ve got better. Who knows.
You’ve got to put your faith in something or someone. A place, a person or a sound. Just something. Give yourself to something. I don’t like bothering anyone with anything that gets to me. I’m more likely to just play a song I love to find comfort and answers. And so, that is exactly what I did. The songs I’m going to link you to ALL played an important role in making sure I didn’t become a selfish wanker wallowing in self pity. These songs stopped me from going under and into something shit.
My mum’s okay now. Well, mentally- she will always be tapped in the head. I think that’s genetic. I’ve got no fucking chance of being normal. Not that I’d ever want to be 😉 I remember when she was undergoing treatment she kept saying to me, “I don’t care if I’m on a fucking drip-we ARE going to see Morrissey.” And we did. Twice. I refuse to ever EVER go watch Morrissey live with anyone but my mum. I don’t care who you are- I can only go with her. When we saw him in York we stood for an hour at the end of the gig waiting for him to come out. He came out. As he got into his car, waved and nodded at us. For me, that was perfect. We’ve seen Morrissey 4 times, each time it just makes me feel so alive. However seeing him twice last year meant so much more, for the obvious reasons. It was just perfect.
I think I’ve written far too much. I’ll probably delete this because, when I re-read this I will see how much of an idiot I am. I’m sorry. If you’ve read this- thank you, and I’m sorry you put yourself through this. Anyway, go listen to these songs. They sum up what I’ve been trying to say better than I ever could, especially Kate Bush and Brand New. Running Up That Hill..the chorus just sums up everything I felt and feel. I would give anything to have swapped with my mum so she didn’t have to go through any of this :