I've finally applied to grad school. Perhaps I will be a music therapist in 3 years. Took damn long enough.
I've been making trap beats on Garage Band. I got an iMac recently which is timely since my laptop only works half of the time if it wants. Trap beats. It's the easiest shit I've ever made. It's also probably the most fun I've ever had making music for the sake of making music.
I teach music six out of the seven days of the week. Today I did not go to work because I did not have the capacity to pretend. Not all days are like that. Today was.
I thought that leaving Chicago was the hardest thing I've done. I was wrong. Being successful at being sober is harder. I have better vision now. I can process things more clearly. My anxiety does not dictate my lack of productivity. But. I feel like a part of me is gone. Perhaps it wasn't part of my DNA like I thought.
Which is scary for me, I guess. As I enter a new era in my life, I'm discovering parts of my identity that I didn't even know were there. And while there's space to mix and match and be colorful, I also have to say goodbye to part of myself to make room for the rest of me. I think I tried to do that the first two years of living in Boston, but it was a cop-out. It was a shortcut. It was what I thought I had to do, not what I really wanted to do.
Well, here I am today. I'm getting paid to do something I'm not only good at, but I'm passionate about. I'm more confident in myself, though sometimes I still have doubts. I try to make the most of every day, most days, though I still have days where I don't go to work because I can't pretend. I'm not tortured, but I'm also not super elated about my present condition. I am grateful to have love, but I fear I'm not doing enough to hone and keep it alive.
I can't seem to think in metaphors anymore.... but I see the world in front of me and it's right there. It's real. It's more real than I've ever known it could be.
I think that gives me peace.