Here is an interesting thing: even when piano and guitar are off-limits due to my protesting ears, it appears I still turn to music during difficult times. In any possible way, shape, or form. Which, in this case, means that I have been working almost feverishly on Half Mystic over the past few days.
It's interesting to find that I am using this as a coping mechanism, especially when one considers that it goes against the principles of a depressive episode. Usually when this happens I have to force myself to simply get out of bed; the tiniest tasks seem nothing short of herculean.
But there is something about this baby journal that has grabbed me, and if nothing else, I think I am using it as a bit of an anchor.
There is so much to get done. My to-do list seems overflowing, and in any other case that would likely terrify me. But right now, I feel like I am drowning under the weight of a pervasive sadness, and ticking boxes off a list at least gives me a sense of purpose. Perhaps it helps that it is something I love more than anything else in the world - and all of the beautiful new music I'm discovering through staff applications and submissions is nothing short of incredible.
I have such high hopes for Half Mystic. I want this to be a piece of art that is too light for air, but also something visceral and heartwrenching. I want it to encompass so many aspects of music that I can't find the words for. And it almost hurts a little bit how easy it would be to fail.
But I am learning so much from this. And it is providing a sort of lifeline for me. So I hope it's successful. I hope it is just as beautiful and wild as I've imagined.
But for now, all I can do is keep working, if only to stave off the sadness for a little bit longer.
And then - and then we will see where it takes us all, won't we?