:: The S.I.C.L.E. Cell ::

:: Monday, September 22, 2003 ::

Music. What is it about music? I know that after I lost my first child and got to the point where I was so emotionally low I couldn't even cry anymore, could only sit and stare out the window... nothing could break through the numbness like a song. If adopted abortion-supporter Sarah McLaughlin's lyrics came from the radio: "I will remember you... will you remember me?"...I would lose it. Mariah Carey's "Butterfly" could send me into hysterics every time (not the part about being all I could be, but just imagining my child's spirit as a butterfly floating up to heaven... the concept that I had to let go when I didn't want to... I could identify with that). Bread's "Aubrey" was another one that really cut to the core in many, many ways. There was a time when I could be found weeping bitterly as I listened to that song over and over again for hours. I don't know if I found comfort in the words or if it was just another form of self-torture. These songs were cigarettes I burned myself with to make sure I could still feel ("I Never Promised You a Rose Garden"; 1977).

Often people are moved by songs that remind them of happy times or lost loves. A song, like a scent, sometimes has a way of riveting you to the spot and taking you instantly on an emotional journey through time. "If You Leave" played on the radio every five seconds during a breakup in high school, so I always think of the boy when I hear it, and I always feel a little weird just because I associate it with a bad time.

Music has a way of tapping something deep inside. I rarely cry for my mother. I never really even had a chance to grieve for her before I was desperately ill and then grieving for my child. But I hear the song "Because You Loved Me" and I am in a fetal position in the corner missing my mommy. The package of powerful lyrics and sensitive music just drills into me pneumatically, past the flesh and bone and right into the emotional being.

Today someone sent me lyrics to some songs that "do it" for her. She made the comment that, if she didn't know better, she would think these lyrics were written by a mom with a SICLE and not Trent Reznor. I can see where The Big Come Down and especially Gave Up echo the sentiment of many with SICLEs.

Torture or "art therapy"? Whatever music is it's affective. I would like to hear from others regarding music and the SICLE. I'd like to get different perspectives on different songs and post the anonymous comments/experiences. Did anyone ever get any of those "post-abortion healing" CD's?

:: ashli 7:48 AM # ::
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