In Mourning of My Past Vitality

A song that I wrote ten years ago came across my ears today. I tried to sing along, but I couldn’t. I cried after the first notes. I can’t make those sounds, any more.

It isn’t even a particularly special song. It was a song that I pumped out in a few hours because I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

That was the before times, when my defense mechanisms and blockages weren’t so highly developed as they are now.

Before I had to worry about making a living and doing work I didn’t want to do, and many heartaches by emotionally unavailable boys, and destroying relationships with unchecked insecurities.

And more positively, knowing I was talented, knowing I was pretty, charismatic, hilarious. General hot shit. Also arrogant, but I certainly miss the confidence.

Maybe I don’t feel grief, as much as I feel directionless? What’s the opposite of that? Directionful? That’s what I was when I wrote this song and the album it was eventually released on.

Since those days, the world scares me so deeply that I’m afraid to go out and do the things I love. I’m afraid of tragedies, shootings, being messed with by men, going out alone day or night, getting hit by cars, getting hit in my car by drunks? Afraid that when I leave my house, *that’s* the time some crazy person will smash through the back door and hurt my boyfriend and my dogs. Not that I’d be able to do anything- I’m probably an easy target.

And if I were to move away, I also wouldn’t be able to enjoy myself fully knowing that my family and the handful of people I care about are still in the death trap that I moved away from.

I feel resentment toward everyone who shuttered my zest and excitement to participate in the world.

I feel regret that my deep fears of abandonment, deception, and being canceled kept me from being genuine and having vulnerable, thoughtful conversations with people.

I miss the girl who could “be” with any human and just chat instead of be afraid of them. Perhaps I’m just out of practice since Covid.

Thankfully, in this very low space, I am learning my deficits and have the resources to repair them, and my fundamental truth is that I *always* have the breakthrough.

Knowing that fundamental truth, I have total faith that eventually I’ll feel vibrant and self-expressed again in time. It starts with my communication and my ability to connect with people. Something I am now that I wasn’t back then, is near impossible to offend, and genuinely curious about every backstory and viewpoint I come across. There’s no doubt that I will accrue a community by accident to help me develop Lauren v2 and express the dormant vitality in different ways than when I was 22, if I can develop the courage to start reaching out.

Perhaps they will help prepare me for the potentially-dire situations that I don’t think I’m capable of managing and which cause my paralyzing fear. Maybe they will help me become strong and a master of self-defense. Maybe they’ll scoop me up and take me for a hike in their big, durable car so that I can exercise and don’t have to drive. Maybe people will like my art and buy it, and encourage me to make more. And I will meet people who will coax out the creative best in me and not shut down my ideas or force me to curate my self-expression.

So all I can do in this period of “mourning” is write it all down so as to inscribe this passing reflection into my memory when I need a dose of fundamental wisdom about who I am and what I should do with it.

Perhaps some day I will write “the thing” that prevents a lonely, damaged person from a mass murder and they feel safe to reach out to me and tell me so- that would be the greatest reward for being the me that I’ve always known myself to be. It would make me feel more powerful to step back into the world and do the things I need to do to rebuild myself, knowing one fewer person feels the need to hurt others somewhere.

This moment sucks, but it’s worth sitting here wondering where the heck I should go. The path forward is a choice, not a decision, after all.

For anyone who is curious, this is the song that started the whole meltdown. Thank you for taking the time to read this, despite your life duties, preoccupation, or grief, or whatever else you’re going through. It truly means everything to me.