Music Connection

This is just a collection of songs I have related to that I’ve only began to appreciate this year.

Be it the performance, lyrics, visual representation or message the artist is wishing to portray. Some aspect was relatable to me.

Past of my teenage years was spent deeply connecting to music. Some in good ways, bad in others. Music was my coping method. I woke up to music, I went to sleep to music. I was interested in many genres and from different generations.

Music has always been a part of my life, but not in the same way as it was as a teen. The music that deeply connected with me was mostly a solo experience. Something I did alone.

When I jumped from one relationship to the next, and then becoming a parent, I lost my own solidarity with music. My selfish lazing with headphones on, lost in my own connectedness. Music became shared. Their tastes, their opinions of music didn’t match the variety of my own and eventually, I became the listener to the choices of others.

Other times when music would play in the environment, like in shops, these songs would trigger me. It was like being reintroduced to my former self; a connection to the person I didn’t feel like any more, but was still there, waiting to be reunited.

That was difficult when your entire being is trying to deny there is a problem, “I’m fine!”

It was moments like that, I had a hard time convincing myself of that, let alone other people. Disassociation was my only means of survival then. I wasn’t ready to face my pain. It was too hard, and life circumstances was too hard to contemplate adding to it.

When I fled my home with my young son to go to the refuge, I never stepped into my home again.

My belongings were collected by my family, a group of men from a church group with a large van and police in attendance for safety reasons. They had limited time to collect larger items, clothes and mostly my child’s toys and belongings with this protection available.

Many things I never got back, one being my entire music and DVD collection. Every CD I’d bought/made from my teen years right up to early/mid twenties. Every CD a link to memories of a period of my life. Gone. That fucking hurt.

I know in many ways that’s a trivial loss in the larger scheme of things and it felt great to be somewhat free by escaping that situation with him. But I know that was done with great intent to hurt me.

He would have gained very little to sell them. The likelihood is they were dumped. He gained nothing. Only I lost something he knew meant something to me.

I also lost my lingerie, sex toys, books, personal papers with my personal information on them, wage slips and several of my larger home items such as washing machine, dryer, dining table. They were “his” as a recent gift from his father. A gift that caused me to abandon my own appliances, that belonged to me. Very handy. His cousin got my drier for £40.

He also smashed up my previous brand new bedroom furniture set I’d bought when I fled the “home” we had in his name. £170 worth when I had nothing.

“His” home where my money paid the deposit for him to be able to get the keys that day. My qualifying benefits were still in process so I wouldn’t have qualified for housing benefit yet, where he could qualify. That’s why the house went in his name. I just wanted somewhere where I could have my child sleep peacefully.

I got my first attack in that house. After he failed to come home after my bank card went missing until 4am. I called him on it and he booted me in the hip twice and I fled to bed away from him. That was the day the trust completely died. My son was less than 2 months old.

I pulled every white appliance out of that home once I’d secured my home in my own name. A home he couldn’t “lock me out of” like he did with “his.”

The house that was furnished with all my home belongings. When he locked me out, he locked my son out too. With all his belongings behind the locked door.

Every white appliance I removed from “his house” I done 3 months post partum, with my bare hands while my colicky baby slept. I then moved each one individually in the boot of my car around the corner (literally 30 seconds drive) to MY own home. my son in his car seat in the passenger side of the car.

He came back while I was midway through removing everything when he returned and “caught me.” He proceeded to “throw me out” and threw my duvet into the street, followed by whatever he could easily throw.

“I’ll even drive it round for you, so you can get the fuck away from me!” Then drove my loaded car, with my child still in it like a lunatic. Wheel spinning, high speed corner considering it was overloaded. Lucky it was such a short distance and I could see him stop and catch up quickly.

He lost his tenancy at “his” home shortly after for non payment of rent, but continued to squat there when he felt like, keeping a copy of the keys. He sold my old gas oven to his mother as I couldn’t disconnect that one.

Guess where he slept most nights after he lost “his” home? “To protect his son.”

Guess where he slept when he went on his cocaine/crack binges he funded by stealing my bank card, while driving my car.

Let me begin with…

Lady Gaga

Discovered 2018

What a powerful way to express this pain. By far one of the most touching, mentally painful yet soothing with solidarity

Never been a massive fan of Gaga, I don’t dislike her. I think she’s very brave.

This song broke me when I first saw the live performance. I advise caution before watching the official video if you are a survivor of rape or sexual assault.

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