Reflecting on 2019, I realize it was a year filled with unexpected twists and wonderful connections, all underscored by the music that accompanied me. One song that resonated deeply in the early months was "Stop Me When You Had Enough" by Nural. While the lyrics didn’t necessarily encapsulate my feelings, the overall vibe of the song mirrored the repeated pleas my ex made when I expressed my concerns about our relationship. His engagement to someone else and the impending arrival of a child only underscored the emotional turmoil I felt. I could hear echoes of his reluctance to confront reality in the music, which felt like a haunting reminder of a love that wasn’t meant to be. By 2019, we were in the midst of finalizing our divorce, and I had moved away, keeping myself busy with jobs at Walmart, Circle K, and in Home Health Care. I wasn’t looking back at what-ifs; we had both chosen different paths, and I was determined to forge my own.
During this time, a dear long-term friend I had recently reconnected with sent me "Let It Die" by Starset. The song felt like an anthem for new beginnings, urging me to let go of the past and embrace change. The line “Let it die, let it die, let it die” echoed in my mind, reminding me that sometimes we must release what no longer serves us. My friend’s encouragement to consider relocating where he was at in Dubai was a lifeline during a time when I felt adrift. Although I appreciated the gesture, I wasn’t ready for anything too demanding until my divorce was finalized. The previous year had been turbulent, marked by dangerous behaviors from my ex, which necessitated precautions to ensure my safety. I was just beginning to feel secure again in my daily life when I faced a serious medical emergency a clot in my lung. Initially, I mistook the symptoms of a panic attack, but during a shift at Walmart, I felt increasingly heavy in my chest and disoriented. I was going to drive to the ER but decided to drive to my place across town first to get my medical card. This timing ultimately ended with me at the closest urgent care instead. They ended up sending me to the hospital emergency room by ambulance. Thankfully, the staff there acted quickly, and the ER doctor found the clot.
Afterward, the blood thinners I was prescribed kicked my butt. I felt like a ghost of my former self, struggling to regain my strength. During this time, I found comfort in "In the Middle of the Road" by Joanne Shenandoah, particularly the line, “Stars seem so bright, my vision seems so blurred.” This lyric perfectly encapsulated my mood, reflecting the haziness that often accompanied my depressive state. The stars symbolized hope, yet my blurred vision represented the confusion and uncertainty that clouded my mind. My doctor adjusted my medication, explaining that exhaustion was contributing to my feelings, and I tried to fight back against the darkness that threatened to overwhelm me.
Fate had it that after I missed several days of work due to the flu, Walmart let me go for having too many absences. This felt like a double-edged sword: while losing my job was stressful, it also freed me to focus on healing. I shifted my attention to Circle K and working with more patients in remote areas. Although I still cared for those from my past, I felt ready to shed the skin of my former life as a wife. "Six Feet Underground" by Lord of the Lost became my anthem for that chapter, capturing the finality and weight of that part of my life. The lyrics “I’m six feet underground, and I’m never coming back” resonated deeply, symbolizing the emotional death I experienced in that relationship. I wished my ex well, but I recognized there was no need to salvage a friendship marred by toxicity, especially given the disrespect he showed my mom during our last year together.
As spring and summer unfolded, I started accepting a few dates. Most of these encounters were light-hearted and fun, allowing me to get to know new people. The song "Meant To Be" by Bebe Rexha featuring Florida Georgia Line became a fitting soundtrack during this time, with the lyrics “If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.” It embodied the carefree attitude I was embracing, reminding me that life could be filled with serendipity and that maybe love could still find me. However, everything took a turn at the end of July. I found myself drawn to "Until The End Of Time" by Apoptygma Berzerk, a song that echoed my desire for connection while also reflecting the shadows creeping into my mind. The title itself felt like a poignant reminder of the infinite nature of longing and the emotional weight of my past. As some know from past postings, my drink was drugged, and I was charged with a DUI and put on a 1 year probation.
By late August, I met someone I felt comfortable with, and we officially started dating. Yet, I was still grappling with darker thoughts and trying to avoid falling back into self-destructive habits. During this time, "Heinous" by Dark Lotus resonated deeply with me. The raw energy of the song mirrored my internal battles, with lines like “It’s the darkness inside me,” serving as both a catharsis and a warning of the darker paths I had once tread. I moved away from many people and focused on my own needs, even quitting my job at Circle K when a manager became too difficult to handle. This decision felt like cutting ties with the toxicity that had plagued my life, reclaiming my agency.
Toward the end of the year, my relationship began to shift; my goals didn’t align with his, leading to tension. I was also quite sick. With a blood test resulting in SARS-2 antibodies (This was before Covid was barely starting to known), but at that moment, No one realize the severity of the situation, still needing to fulfill work obligations.
This was now 1 year divorced the day before Thanksgiving and part of it was truly giving me a force to shed all my plans, and ideals to accept the new rules and construction of relationships that led me to this space in time.
As the year closed, "Broken" by Mob-C became my anthem, reflecting the internal struggles I faced. The haunting line “I’m broken, I’m shattered” encapsulated the fragility of my mental state and the pieces I was still trying to put together. I went back on Prozac during this period, a reminder that I was still working on my mental health. Thankfully, a few good friends continued to reach out, supporting me through it all.
Other songs that marked my 2019 soundtrack included "Someday" by Godsmack, which spoke to hope and perseverance with the line “Someday, I'll be free,” and "Melt Down" by Tosha Lynn, capturing the intensity of my emotions with its raw honesty. Finally, "Epilogue" by Mouth of the South felt like a fitting conclusion to the tumultuous year, encapsulating the lessons learned and the journey ahead.
Looking back, I see how music not only accompanied me through my struggles but also helped me articulate my journey of healing and growth. Each song represents a piece of my story, symbolizing the complexity and resilience I discovered within myself. The melodies and lyrics became a mirror reflecting my inner world, guiding me through the darkest moments and celebrating the small victories. In the end, I emerged not just as a survivor of my past but as a seeker of new beginnings, ready to embrace whatever came next.
The song now that I think can wrap this up would be Will You Cry For Me by Arina Chloe ft. Deuce
