There are some things that I’m dealing with that are really taking a toll on me emotionally and mentally. I didn’t realize to what extent until Saturday afternoon when my family had an Easter gathering. All the kids went outside to play, and we–the adults–sat in the living room and chatted. The conversation gravitated towards the situation under which I’m laboring arduously to overcome and put behind me and move on. The conversation somehow got … unpleasant, for lack of a better term. No harsh emotions towards any family members, just a lot of pent-up frustration and inability to understand exactly how this situation even came to be, much less WHY we’re having to go through this.

In the end, I felt like I just couldn’t take it another day. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not suicidal by any means over this whole thing, but I mean to tell you that this is something I wouldn’t wish on anyone. No one deserves to go through this … especially my wife and me. Yet we are, and it is what it is.

As I sit here today, still trying to wrap my head around this whole situation, I have my iPod on shuffle, as I typically do. What song comes on? Alice in Chain’s “Private Hell.” The coincidence of it all made me listen to the words a lot more closely this time through.

“Give away a love and then remove another too,
Painted words adorn the walls, echoing untrue.
I feel cold.

Promises abound you rarely find it to begin
Maybe I’m afraid to let you all the way in.
I guess so …

I excuse myself; I’m used to my little cell.
I amuse myself in my very own private hell.

Lately I’m beside myself, pretending unconcerned.
Standing on a corner, where I threw you for a turn.
I’ll move on.

Flowers on a cross remain, mark an ending scene
Damn it all if blood you spill turn the grass more green.
Life is short.

I excuse myself; I’m used to my little cell.
I amuse myself in my very own private hell.”

I won’t go into details as to what we’re going through. It *is* very private, and very, very personal, yet I feel compelled to vent and get some of this off my chest, even if it is in vague terms and generalities.

Music is just so powerful. It has the ability to evoke emotion like no other sense can. Sight is close, but I still challenge that sound is more powerful. At least it is for me. I can hear a song and immediately relate to it on some level. It can be a melodic Enya-like song, or it can be as hard and edgy as old Metallica … on some level, I know I’m going to be able to relate. I’m grateful for that, especially in times like these where I feel like the weight of the world is bearing down on me. I *need* something to take my mind off of it all.

Much like heroin to Layne Staley, music is my drug of choice. Period. It helps me “brush away loose ground.”