Reflecting back to when I decided to join Solo and I’m not so sure that much thought went into it. The days leading up to it are a blur. I had just come home from the hospital after having had surgery that gave me another chance for life. Blissfully, I was on amazing drugs that not so much deadened the pain but made sure I didn’t care.
I also was terribly lonely cooped up in my bed in a corner of my house surrounded by a late winter storm. The world outside continued on without skipping a beat. For me, everything had screeched to a halt. All those I had been there for through their trials were suddenly nowhere in sight. At yet another lowest and weakest point in my life, I was all I had to get myself through. Well, myself and my music.
So much loss and pain this time of year. I can see the days approach and recede on the calendar and sometimes successfully quarantine the despair that washes over me. The last day I saw him. The last time I sat at my desk. Or locked the door to a home I had loved. All that I had been was gone and I didn’t recognize who remained.
Music was my anchor. It connected me back to who I had been. Times I was happy. Moments I was elsewhere. And music was my companion through those long tortured days last March. And at times when nothing else offered me comfort, I could always turn to music by Morrissey and The Smiths. They soothed me in a way no one else could. It allowed me to relax, and to sleep and to just be exactly where I was. No pressure to be who I had been but to just be. And that allowed me to find peace and begin to restore.
So I suppose it was natural to discover this was the moment to join Solo. After checking in occasionally over the years, now I was ready for, even needed, the community. One of survivors of their own trials and torturers who understood a depth of feeling not shared by most. Something drove me to Solo and TAT was born.
So a year has now passed. I view everything with different eyes. A somewhat wiser and healthier TAT is before you. I try to live my life without regret. Everyone I meet provides lessons of one kind or another. And I’ve had some great laughs that were oh so needed. And of course there has always been the music. The melodies enveloping me, offering me lyrical comfort when I’ve needed it most. And I’m still here as I’ll try anything twice.