The Day the Music Died
Warning: This is a bit of a real life post.

It doesn't matter if you are a hard core listener, an avoid collector, or someone who just blasts a random song you hear on the radio... one thing all of us have in common is that music makes you feel some sort of emotion.
I have talked to so many people about this over the years, and what I have learned is that we all experience our music differently. Some people feel something the first time they hear a song , some people have their lives changed seeing a band for the first time, others have strong emotional connections to music from their past. Nostalgia is a tricky bugger, it gets me every single time. Some people cry, laugh, get angry, or sing like they are in the band themselves (I am guilty of all of the above mind you).
I guess I am writing this blog to talk about how music emotionally makes me feel. Probably because this last year has been the most emotional year I have had in a very long time, and
the craziest thing happened to me because of it. I stopped listening. I stopped all music. I couldn't bare to hear anything.
Now, this is coming from a girl who co-owns a punk rock blog, a girl who is a co-admin a fan club for one of the greatest bands out there (face to face), a girl who grew up with a guitar playing mom, got her first stereo in grade one, a girl who always says she will sit in her chair, but then ends up dancing the whole night or being front row smashed against a guard rail. Kinda a big deal right?
Well mental health has a strange way of fucking with you. I wish I could say I was the kind of person who has struggled with anxiety and depression and drowns herself into music that makes her feel better...or feel worse as I know some other do, but that is not the case. For me, it didn't matter what it was, I couldn't bare to hear it.
It hurt. All of it.
Now this blog isn't about depression (I could go on for hours), so I don't want to get carried away. Long story short... I am doing better, its a work in progress, but the improvements I have made are huge. One thing that has changed? The music is back. The music is back and it's feeling bigger, better, heavier, stronger, happier, fucking outrageously amazing.
I once again have so many cds in my car I have to sift through stacks to find the one I want. I once again I can go on a bike ride and BLAST Propagandhi and No Use For a Name. I once
again can turn on Spotify and hear a new album by a band I used to love, and listen to it without crumpling up into a ball (today's album happened to be To Be Everywhere Is To Be Nowhere by Thrice... If you have yet to hear this, please go do it now!). Another album to save me this year? Face to Face came out with their recent release Protection just in time for me to revel in it's perfection.
That being said, I have had some moments of derailment this week. Some extra tough days... some extra hard and dark emotional days where things just feel so heavy (because well, that is just how it fucking works), and my first reaction was to avoid music on those days. Like immediate panic, don't listen, it will make you feel worse. But I did it differently this time. I fucking woke up, and I put a large dent into Spotify and Itunes like never before.
Did I feel something? Fuck yes. Was it hard? Fuck yes. Did I absolutely power through? Fuck yes.
Screw you depression. Today I have music.