Something to Believe In

And give me something to believe in
If there’s a Lord above
And give me something to believe in
Oh, Lord, arise

~Poison

I’ve got some big things being set in motion. Some good things, I think.

I was home, today. I did a lot of housework. I scrubbed baseboards, vacuumed and swept and mopped all our floors. I have an appointment with my regular doctor, tomorrow. Mj is going to come along. Her best friend (T) is coming to stay the weekend here, too. I’m planning to go into work, around 1:00, tomorrow afternoon. I had a phone meeting, this evening, that I’m honestly kind of excited about. I can’t even describe the relief that I feel, just having some sense of control over my own life again. Being in a position to make decisions about where I’m going, how, and when. There are still many unknowns. Of course, I recognize none of us can possibly know for certain what our tomorrows hold. We make plans anyway. It’s simply making plans and trusting I’ll have opportunities to see them through, which gives me this quiet calm I’ve so missed. For too long, I didn’t have the courage to attempt to make any real plans for myself. I lacked the faith required to do so. In order to make plans, we must first believe they could happen. I had little to no confidence in what my tomorrows held. I felt powerless against the forces pressing against me, insisting I stay down. Daring to challenge what was already yanking me any direction except where I wanted to go, had seemed futile. I grew tired of fighting it, and I understood utter hopelessness for the first time in my life. I learned that, no matter how deep a hole I’ve been stuck inside, and then managed to crawl back out into the sunlight…life contains many “holes”. And, there’s always one deeper I could fall into at any moment. I can’t plan for it. I won’t see it coming. That realization and the fears of finding myself trapped inside an even bigger hole, before I’m even able to climb from this one, have been holding me back from choosing to take steps forward on my own. Sure, I can be carried, pushed, or pulled. It takes an enormous amount of bravery for me to actually begin to put one foot in front of the other, aiming high again.

I’m looking up and moving on. As much as I can right now, anyway.

I switched from Spotify to Apple Music, back in June. While I was putting some music on earlier in the afternoon, I noticed there was this “year in review” featuring my music choices since I’d started using Apple Music. For me, song lyrics are almost like therapy. I have songs that will forever be the background music played as my mind replays moments and memories that span my lifetime. There are songs for everything. Lyrics that speak the emotions I can’t express. Every single experience, whether it’s the depths of my pain or my highest of highs, has a song featured in its highlight reel. There’s a unique playlist for every year of my life, too. This is mine, for 2024.

Maybe 2025 will bring a whole new playlist, that’s filled with music I’ll look at next year and think to myself, this was when I accepted what was and started daring to imagine what could be. Maybe this year will be the year I turned things around and accomplished some big dreams of mine. Maybe Niko Moon’s “No Sad Songs” will be prominently featured in my mind’s replay of 2025. The fact that I’m able to believe in the possibility of these maybes is proof positive, I’m not completely hopeless anymore. That’s not nothing, either. It’s enough for now.