It has come to my attention that I have a unique talent worthy of Tiktok. Not so much the singing or the freakishly huge volume of country song lyrics I have in my broken brain––more that I’m not afraid to post a clip of me singing (and ranting) online like this 😅
Except I’m not on Tiktok, and I certainly don’t need to spend any more time on social media. And yes, I realize this may not be “a thing people do” on Substack, but do I look like I give a fuck?
So here is what you need to know about these videos, which I am calling, “country road karaoke”:
Growing up in a household where big, messy feelings like mine weren’t allowed, I turned to the songs on the radio to help me process what was going on in my inner world.
It wasn’t always country music, but for whatever reason, it is now. Perhaps because for the past few weeks I’ve been hiding out in the woods, in a rural area a few hours from where my life had been until earlier this summer. Before more than three decades of psych meds and polydrugging finally caught up with me. Before everything fell apart, and as I struggled to find answers, the people in my life started heading toward the exit.
But I just love driving down these winding country roads out here, through the hills, drinking in the sunshine and the views, belting out the guilty-pleasure songs that capture these big, messy feelings that are now exploding out of me… often with no filter, because I never had the chance to develop the tools to regulate them. These feelings are just amazing––so raw, so real. I try to name them as they take over my broken brain and my body: joy, sorrow, hope, pain…
Today, it’s anger, courtesy of Carrie Underwood.
I am the little girl who escaped to the cellar, listening to the howling tornado destroying everything above her. I imagine she has a slightly maniacal grin on her face.
‘Til there’s nothing left standing, nothing left of yesterday…
Because she knows that when the storm is over, she will finally be free.
