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Grief and Music

I met a girl named Mandy when I was 22 yrs old, she taught me a lot about the world, and about people. I’m very grateful for the ten years we had together. She taught me to have empathy for others. She was truly an amazing human being.

I’ve been a music composer and producer for most of my life. When I started having writer’s block or whenever I got down on myself, she cheered me on and always encouraged me to chase after the things I was passionate about. She was a very creative person, and an awesome writer and photographer. She studied psychology and photography in college. She grew up with a condition called Goldenhar’s syndrome, which resulted in some deformities, and required her to have over 50 surgeries. She started her own charity called ‘I Care Bears’ as a young teen through the Ronald McDonald House to give children stuffed bears as comfort while they spent time in hospitals. She was unfortunate to have been sexually abused by a family member for more than ten years as a child. She had a lot of trouble making friends in school. Because of the difficulties she faced in life, she suffered from depression and was often suicidal. Which she wrote about in her journals even at the age of 12. I did my best to be there for her, to be supportive, and to bring her back to life when she was stuck in her trauma. She was seeing both a therapist and a psychiatrist.

In 2012, when we had been together for almost 9 1/2 years, we bought our first home together and were planning to spend our lives together. We talked about having children. She was doing her best to continue in school through a vocational rehabilitation program at the time. Her grandpa invited her to go on a trip with him to Europe. He was old and needed someone to make the trip with him. She felt it was an opportunity she couldn’t refuse. They went to the Netherlands, Sweden, Germany, and the UK. She had a blast, and on her way back, was already talking about and ready for us to take a trip together on our own. Before her trip, she was having some issues with jaw pain. She had a full titanium jaw implant that she got when she was 16 that went around what jaw she had. It was the first procedure of it’s kind. But after ten years, it seemed the blood flow had been cut off to her teeth. We discovered she needed root canals on pretty much all of her teeth, and she wanted to wait until the trip was over to start worrying about it. We were worried about money and how we were going to pay for it. On her way back to Utah, she was staying at her mom’s in Montana. Things in our relationship were stressed at that time, and the last night I spoke with her she was drinking and upset. She fell asleep that night, and she never woke up. Her mom attempted to wake her up around noon, because it was pretty late, and she never woke up. I found out via a phone call, after commuting an hour and a half to work. And was in complete shock and disbelief. Months later, the toxicology report deemed it was an accidental overdose, some combination of hydrocodone and alcohol. The hydrocodone wasn’t to a typical level that it would be considered fatal. For the longest time, I felt like it was my fault.

It’s the worst, how a relationship can be stuck in a moment of time. We never have the chance for things to be fully resolved, or complete. I was never able to have the clarity about if it was an accident or if she intended to take her own life. And I’m not sure if I’ll ever get the resolution that I wanted. I suppose it doesn’t matter one way or the other. At the time, she had hope for the future and that everything would work out. And I believed that we could make it through anything and that we would. I lived in both guilt and grief for a long time. The way I saw it, made it so much more difficult to express. I felt like my body was simply running on autopilot for the first year. I felt like half of me was gone, and left with her and would never find it’s way back. Some of those memories appear to me, like streaks and trails of blurry lights. And my memory was never the same after that, I often forget what I’m saying mid-sentence. It’s gotten better, but it still affects me. I was unable to write music for a long time. And I was in a place where I was losing myself and destroying myself. I gained a lot of weight, and my health was in terrible shape. I was unable to be open and express myself with others. I closed myself off from the world.

Over time, almost five years after her death, I started to learn that the love I had no place to give, I could give it to other people. That the love isn’t gone, and that I can give it to humanity. I had to consciously make the choice to live my life and to no longer self-destruct. I began to allow myself to give myself the love she had for me, and the support she gave me. I started to see myself as she saw me. I know she wouldn’t have wanted me to be in the dark place I was in. I know she would want me to find love again, and she would never want to be responsible for the pain I was causing myself. Through this, I was able to create the possibility of finding the love of my life once again. And I’m now filled with hope and possibility. And I feel being open to love again would never discredit the love her and I had shared.

I started living my word and doing my best to do what I say I’m going to do and stood up for who I am. The things that support who I truly am. The person I want to be. I lost all of the weight I had gained, started eating healthy, exercising, and taking care of my mind, and my health. I started playing and writing music again. Treating myself the way I would treat someone I loved. I released the first song since she had died last summer. It was a struggle, but it expressed and let me release the darker side of grief and the conflicting feelings that I was dealing with.

I want to help others express themselves, and feel a connection. I know some of you have lost your access to music as I have. Or that others, just need a way to express and acknowledge to themselves what they’re feeling. Music can be very therapeutic and allows people to heal.

If you used to play music, or write, or even want to learn. I want you to feel free to express yourself and to feel alive again, and not so alone. I’m creating a (not-for-profit) community project that allows people going through grief to express themselves through music and to use it to heal. I’m looking for leaders who are passionate about this idea to help me create it. PLEASE message me, and don’t be afraid, no matter how small of a contribution you feel you could make. You’re vulnerability and sharing will open the way for others to heal. If you feel you could contribute or are interested in participating, contact me. Let’s build something together around music that helps others! Thanks very much. *hugs* to you all.