Thank you for all your encouraging words yesterday. This has truly been hard for me and I appreciate the support. Having to expose myself in this type of media makes me so insecure. It's become apparent to me how I really do have depression, and writing is my cure. Music is my soul, but writing is my cure to take me away from myself, because it's a torrid, awful place in my head sometimes. The night before Amy Winehouse died, I was sitting on the back porch steps thinking about how hard it is to live at times. When I heard the news of her passing the next day, a Saturday, I felt it was almost a wakeup call for me to face this issue. I was clearly meant to sing and write and play music, but the presentation of it is so very painful when you don't have the ability to love yourself in a physical way. I do believe this is why Amy Winehouse had her problems, and poor thing, she lost the battle. This fills me with sadness. Although I do discredit her for lauding the fact that she would never go to rehab. It was a very unhealthy attitude, a self-depreciating attitude. A better anthem would have been, If I have to go, I'll come out shining. Not as catchy, I know.
A while back I posted a story about the little girl who could sing like an angel, and a vocal chord expert said it was her brain coordinating the extraordinary talent. Well, I do believe our brains have the power to rise above our fears, our weaknesses, our addictions. Easy to forget when the world is such a harsh place to live sometimes, but that's why we must learn, each of us, to stand back and think for ourselves; create a reserve of strength to draw on in the toughest moments. And dammit, sometimes you just have to be an actor or actress and say, "I am not this situation. I'm still me, now and later and forever. But I am not THIS."
And that's the end of deep thoughts . . . by Amy. Have great Saturday.