No Choice But to Get Through it

It's once again the early morning, I'm hacking away at my keyboard, my fingers heavy with fatigue, my brain a hum-drum of endless strings of words, on repeat so much that they virtually have no meaning. Hereweoherewego. I'm on autopilot, racing against the clock in slow motion. It feels like running in a dream-- the urgency, my heart beating heavily in my chest, the tightening of it, but it's all so slow, so heavy. Dragging myself through the sludge of my addled mind to the finish line.

This happens every. time.

A month prior, I receive the assignment, read the directions neatly typed into a pdf file, neatly write many, many, mini deadlines into my planner-- weekly goals, bi-weekly check-ins-- and wait. I sit on it. I marinate. I write the paper, the whole paper, a dozen times... in my head. I watch youtube videos, movies, read articles-- all pertaining to the subject I am to provide text on. In my mind, I become as well-read and well-researched as many who have attended semesters of classes in that subject. As time drags on, I float into a state of silent screaming panic.

When stressed, I tend to spiral. When confronted with a task-- I freeze, in fear of failure. Enduring a night like tonight, a number of them, all in the span of one week leaves me, for lack of a better word, wrecked.

And once again, 12 hours before the deadline, I finally sit myself in front of my computer, and begin to type. It sucks. It's miserable! I lock in. I don't pee. Or sleep, obviously. I cry, at least twice. I break out. The next two days I'm comatose.

Today was the last day of Midterms.

So now I've been through that whole process. I'm writing this to decompress, instead of sleep. When I find myself once again chained into this endless cycle of comfortable, prepared waiting, followed by hyper-panicked moments of painstaking work, it takes a little piece of my mind and soul. Frankly, it does feel traumatic. My anxiety kicks in, my fight or flight, and for hours I experience an onslaught of pure stress. Self-inflicted stress. This is a real, harmful problem, one that I haven't conquered yet.

Music is a healing experience for me. When my life is devoid of self-care, am over-stressed, when I succumb to unhealthy habits, what I choose to listen to acts as a salve, as a form of therapy to get me through them. Playlists, for me, are a form of storytelling, like writing even. I spend hours picking the songs, and putting them in order based on sound, message, mood and progression. My playlists come full circle, and when I listen through them, it's like reliving a journey, building to a catharsis.

Then there are the songs that pull me into their orbit, again and again. The ones I know like the back of my hand. That feel like a warm, safe place unfolding in the throes of my turbulent mind. There are songs that I love like home. Below are a few of these song that I return to again and again, that motivate me through rough times, whether centered around my floundering work ethic, or day to day struggle. Songs that keep me sane, and remind me-- when my mind is a zombie from lack of sleep and being shifted into overdrive-- that I am perfectly human, resilient, and capable of growth.

This moment... feels like it'll never end.

You can't face the day! When did this pain begin?

The woman's voice is thick and frayed and sweet, her back up singers affirm the sentiment with eager repetition. As if the main voice is giving a class on pain, endurance.

What follows is is a sleepy, jazzy sigh, with a feeling of warmth and comfort to that full many layered sound that is undeniable, but gives way to the repeated verse with anxious little guitar runs-- that long for a better time.

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If you love me and you want me to stay, you just gotta give me the time of the day... You can always tell me how you want it to be, I just got a feeling about a couple of things

This dreamy, sonically complex reflection of mental health and relationships has a sound to it that makes it impossible for me to feel anything independent of its biting waves, providing a feeling of both affirmation and whimsy. Sen Morimoto reflects on and wonders at his struggles to reconcile with his understanding of himself in context of both his relationship, and the greater world of people around him. The beautiful melody layers you in soothing coats of nostalgia and ruminates and marvels at the complexity of perception-- as the listener is presented with whining electronic notes, and celebratory horns against the hearty patience of the bass, and a choir whispers (I love you for who you are).

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This cool, 80's-esque bop, provides an open, airy feeling, easy listening that very deeply contrasts with the main message of the song-- which is in many ways, anything but sanguine. The band softly sings "everybody dies!" over the perky drums and heavenly buildup of band instrumentation.

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This is how it feel to have a winning streeak, baby!

Despite the blinging instrumental, and the vibrant, swaggering lyrics, this songs is not in anyway jarring to the ears. The feeling of the song makes the listener picture a road trip along a beach at sunset, or jumping off a plane. The beat breathes exhilaration, but keeps its' cool. An quiet intense bop to make the day (or very foggy early morning) a bit more vivid.

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Okay, okay-- well I'ma be here for a while, longer than I did expect to, I was out of town, getting lost till I was rescued. Now I'm in the clouds-- come down when I run out of jet fuel, (but I never run out of jet fuel).

This song breaks like the rising tide. From the first lyrics (A sample from reggaton legend Cutty Rank's popular single "Stopper") fading into the the chatty stilted voice of the guitar, the song provided the listener with an airy, confident feeling of decisiveness and possesses the quiet strength of self-advocacy. Miller speaks his truth and his needs-- despite it not necessarily being what others think is best for him at the moment, he expresses in his lyrics that he knows that what he chooses to do it what is good to him in context of the mental and emotional space he is in now. When I listen to this song the lyrics ring eerily true, as I think about the now deceased Mac Miller, the struggles he encountered in his short life, and how he relates them in a way that resonates with so many.

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Baby you ain't hopeless, hopeless keep on hopin', hopin' keep on hopin-- baby, you ain't hopeless.

If you are in dire need of a song that gives you a hug and tells you it's going to be alright, Rome Fortune and Toro y Moi got your back. This song feels like a family reunion, like an evening visit to my grandmother's house-- she insists I eat and won't stop fretting until I do, gives me a kiss on the cheek, and calls me "her baby', and the love sometimes feels like a protective shield when I leave, fortified, ready to face the world knowing that at least my grandma thinks I'm great. The mantra, love yourself is sang like a confident suggestion, the groovy beat gets stuck in your head-- and with it, the lyrics-- like a mantra.