Like many others, I grew up with music as a huge part of my life.But it was always different for me than the kids I grew up with. With my dad as a musician, I was exposed to all kinds of music and I started playing guitar when I was 10. That’s when I realized just how important it was to me. It simply became a part of who I was. I found it was the best thing I had to express myself, along with writing.
I was 11 when music first started saving my life. Diagnosed with depression, the only thing that kept me sane, that kept me going, was music.
All I cared about was my guitar and going to shows. Those were the only times I never felt truly alone; my guitar, a pen and some paper, or the stereo on full blast; or being in a room surrounded by other people who feel the exact same as you, are there for the same reasons, and the band giving back just as much as we gave them.
To this day, I never feel more alive than in a crowd, all of us pouring our hearts out with the band onstage. It’s really the only time I really feel understood and that comfort is what keeps me going.
One of the best quotes I’ve come across that really hit me, as shown above from one of my art journals, came from Soupy of The Wonder Years:
“There’s a reason we all listen to punk rock instead of Top 40. There’s a reason I’d rather be stage-diving than at a bar. I think that most everyone I know involved in punk or hardcore is intrinsically fucked up on some level. There’s something wrong with us. Maybe not “wrong”, but certainly different. Because of this, I think we all share a similar outlook and because of that, we share similar experiences. I’m just writing songs about my life, but as it turns out, my life is pretty similar to others and honestly, it feels good to know we’re in this shit together.”
I remember so clearly the first time I experienced this rush and contentment, the first time I was ever in a mosh pit. 2006, 12 years old, with my cousin (who I’d had this shitty all-girl punk band with) where we saw From First to Last and Fall Out Boy. I’d been to shows before of course, but this was the first time I was ever in the pit. I was immediately addicted to the energy.
I miss those days. Yeah, I was going through some rough shit but, for at least those first couple years, I had this outlet that I shared with my cousin; our band. I lived for practices and performing. I continued playing my own music after the band “broke up”, of course, but I’ll always hold those days as some of the best in my life.
I can’t imagine my life without music. What’s it’s done for me. Punk, especially.
I was 11 the first time music saved my life and it’s been saving me ever since.