Trumpets

Podcasts have crowded out music in my life. I let it happen. At some point, the shift in what I listened to unbalanced the scales until recently when I realised I barely listen to music any more. I associate music with joy and podcasts with information. I wanted as much information crammed into my brain as possible and that shoved out the joy. For the last two years that’s been ok. Joy didn’t seem like an emotion that I needed in my life and so music for me withered. I have still been listening to music from time to time, but not enough.

Not nearly enough. The other day I was watching some tv. Within the tv programme a song was accompanying the little moving pictures as is their want. I’ve heard this song before. It’s an upbeat number with a catchy riff and when I actually looked at the lyrics, some saucy words. Not really my kind of white boy with acoustic guitar music, but sometimes something catches and you gotta go along with it. None of that really mattered, it made me smile, so I wandered into the kitchen with it blasting out of my phone.

A side question: does anyone use their phone any more as an actual phone? When it rings, it’s like I’m looking at a snake spitting at me. Poisonous. Back to the post.

And as I transitioned into the kitchen I did a little dance. I’ve not danced, for the joy of it, in a couple of years. I did dance on stage recently in a choreographed attempt to not step on my partner’s feet inadvertently, but deliberately. Successfully I might add. But I haven’t danced round my kitchen in a few years just for the sheer fuck of it. I was happy and away with the music.

Then I felt immediately guilty, stopped, bent over and had a mini panic attack. I felt guilt that I was happy. Guilt that everything else didn’t matter for a couple of minutes and I was just jigging round the room. For some reason I thought that I didn’t deserve that simple happiness. I calmed my breathing pretty rapidly, brushed away a couple of tears as the song came to its end. And I immediately pressed repeat, turned the volume up and had the song blaring out again. This irrational wave of negativity would not win and would not dampen the happy feeling I had.

Now the mini panic attacks started after Dad died. They’re not proper panic attacks. I’ve witnessed them though and helped to soothe others when they happen. And they’ve naturally got less as time has gone on. As I have some experience in relieving panic attacks in others, I know how to get rid of them when I have one of these miniature versions. And I can control them because I only let them happen when I’m alone or in ‘safe’ company. The problem is really that I store up emotion and then it comes out in an overwhelming manner. I’m working on that.

When the song came to an end the second time, I pressed repeat again and got on with my washing up, smiling at the bouncy rhythm.

Yeah, the trumpets they go