songs of my life,  Uncategorized

>What Do You Hear In These Sounds?

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I don’t go to therapy to find out if I’m a freak
I go and I find the one and only answer every week
And it’s just me and all the memories to follow
Down any course that fits within a fifty minute hour
And we fathom all the mysteries, explicit and inherent
When I hit a rut, she says to try the other parent
And she’s so kind, I think she wants to tell me something,
But she knows that its much better if I get it for myself…
And she says

What do you hear in these sounds?
What do you hear in these sounds?

I say I hear a doubt, with the voice of true believing
And the promises to stay, and the footsteps that are leaving
And she says “Oh,” I say, “What?” she says, “Exactly,”
I say, “What, you think I’m angry
Does that mean you think I’m angry?”
She says “Look, you come here every week
With jigsaw pieces of your past

Its all on little soundbytes and voices out of photographs
And that’s all yours, that’s the guide, that’s the map
So tell me, where does the arrow point to?
Who invented roses?”
and…

What do you hear in these sounds?
What do you hear in these sounds?

And when I talk about therapy, I know what people think
That it only makes you selfish and in love with your shrink
But oh how I loved everybody else
When I finally got to talk so much about myself…

And I wake up and I ask myself what state I’m in
And I say well I’m lucky, ’cause I am like East Berlin
I had this wall and what I knew of the free world
Was that I could see their fireworks
And I could hear their radio
And I thought that if we met, I would only start confessing
And they’d know that I was scared
They’d would know that I was guessing
But the wall came down and there they stood before me
With their stumbling and their mumbling
And their calling out just like me, and…

The stories that nobody hears, and…

I collect these sounds in my ears, and…

That’s what I hear in these sounds, and…

That’s what I hear in these,
That’s what I hear in these sounds.

What Do You Hear In These Sounds ~ Dar Williams

I have several Dar Williams songs on my iPod but yesterday this one came on. I’d not heard it before but it struck a chord with me and I’ve listened to it several times since.

I’ve been in counselling since April 2006, I’ve made no secret of that or of the fact that I have depression. It’s not something I am ashamed of but it’s sort of hard for me to explain why it [counselling] helps me and what I think/feel about it. Depression too is something that it’s hard to get someone who hasn’t lived it to understand. That always both pleases and frustrates me all at once. It pleases me because it means they haven’t had to walk the path I have walked but it frustrates me because sometimes I just want people to understand.

I’ve made lots of progress in counselling. It’s hard for me to see just how much progress I’ve made until my counsellor or my GP points it out to me but I have. It’s not usually someone else who makes those connections for me. My counsellor seems to think it’s normal and not surprising that I never connect them myself.

I think the biggest place I have made progress is in med compliance. Before I would always take them for a few days and then not for weeks on end and I’d mess with the amount I take. Now it’s May 27th 2007 and the last time I missed my meds was 31st Dec 2006. I occasionally mess with the amount of baclofen I take but only to take slightly more (as my Rx states) on super spastic days. Fluoxetine and I have been in exactly the same relationship all year – I take the Rx’d amount, no more, no less.

So why did I need to share the song?

Because it sums up either exactly or very closely all/most of my thoughts and feelings about counselling and depression.

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