Angel, you sing about beautiful things
And all I wanna do is believe
But I traded my dreams
For this mess of memories
And they just stopped working for me
I find myself singing lately. A lot. It has been so many years since I actually sang, I forgot how much I enjoy it. I also forgot that I am actually pretty decent at it. In fact, I have gotten better at it.
When I was 14 years old I sang for my entire family at my grandparents 50th anniversary party. It was held in a large auditorium, complete with a stage that had been set up for the various grandchildren performing. I was still pretty shy back then and I was not too keen on the whole being on stage thing. But my grandmother loved it when I sang, plus I was hoping for a chance to really do something impressive in front of my family. My extended family always did, and still very much does, view me as the "little trooper," but not actually someone talented or capable of real achievement. I was secretly so excited to finally have a chance to prove them all wrong.
I took the stage in my wheelchair. My first notes were perfect I can admit to myself now in retrospect. But after singing a few lines, my nerves got to me and my mind suddenly became empty. I had forgotten the words. I just sat their on stage, with the music playing in the background. I desperately tried to remember at least a single word to the song I had practice over a hundred times. But nothing came. I just looked out at everyone in silence. I remember feeling very far away. Finally I uttered, "Sorry..." and wheeled myself off stage. I went directly to the bathroom, locked myself in the last stall, and proceeded to have my first mental breakdown. I cried for about an hour and refused to come out for anyone. Even my mother. To this day, I do not remember the words to the song I was trying to sing.
It sounds silly, but I never really got over that moment. It was the first time I had ever failed at something I wanted so badly to excell at. And I had done it in front of an audience that for the most part already believed I would never be capable of accomplishing much.
I stopped singing that day.
It feels good to be singing again. Like I have rediscovered something I loved, but lost. And, yet again, it sounds silly, but it also feels like I have made a first step toward moving past traumatic memories in my life. The memories that I have been all too eager to just hide so I don't have to face them.
I have a lot more singing to do, though.
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