So things went from weird to worse, but are now looking up. Kind of. I don't even know. I had to stop purging because I got hit by a bolt of mysterious mind-lightning, so I gained back all the weight I had lost this year (and then a little bit more, isn't that always the way) and I still continue to be surprised getting dressed each day in clothes that don't quite fit properly.
The lightning I'm still trying to wrap my head around. A little over a month ago I decided to go back to music school, and I'm not sure why, only that I mustmustmustmustmust. So a firm promise to stop purging this time forever with absolutely no exceptions followed, but this time it stuck. So even if I've fucked up my voice completely and never get my top notes back, at least this new decision gave me that. Purging is the most fucked thing of all the fucked things ever. I just looked to my right where my son plonked a pile of old cassette tapes next to the computer today and the only label facing me is 'Regurgitator'. If I was the type to type "lol" I would type it now. I'm not, though, but you know. Apt.
So I'm dragging my fat arse to singing lessons once a week with a soprano only a couple of years my senior with two enormous doglike cats who is slowly whipping me back into shape before my audition in December. It's pretty strange, since I swore off classical singing almost ten years ago now, but it feels so good to be working towards something, and not just slaving away for something just above minimum wage in a chocolate store and polishing off an Arts degree with my usual level of dedicated halfarsed-ness. I'm trying to believe that my body can be an instrument again, even after all I've put it through, but sometimes it's all clear to me and sometimes it isn't. Sometimes I stuff myself so I can no longer move. Sometimes I walk for miles and miles. I long for sleep, for solitude, for time to work, for the motivation to get out of bed before eight am, for my tongue just naturally being in the right position and my larynx staying the fuck down. I'm trying to make peace with all these things, with every contradiction, every frustration, every episode of angry tears. So is this life? Is coming to terms with it all how people live? And if I have to ask that, how far do I have to go?
Anyway. Here's a picture of Nellie Melba, Australia's first prima donna. She's like me, only winsome.
My wife is a soprano? Like opera singing?? That is mighty impressive. :D I hope you keep at it. You're fabulous!!
ReplyDeletexoxo
Hmm....you are the second soprano who gave up purging to preserve their vocal chords whom I've met through blogger.
ReplyDeleteWhich, you know, wouldn't seem weird at all to me except I used to be a soprano, too back when singing was something I did every day. Coincidences abound.
Unlike the two of you, though, I gave up classical singing after high school and wallowed in vices that destroyed my range. Not that I truly regret it, but now and then, I miss showing off. hahaha
Good on you for using your artistry to get away from purging. It's so destructive to more than just your anatomy, it's wretched for your sense of self-organization.
I hope you prosper vocally, but more than that, thrive emotionally in the absence of regurgitation.
:D