When will I see you again?

Shakka — When Will I See You Again — AMTRAC remix

There’s this irking, gut-wrenching feeling of nostalgia that I occasionally become overwhelmed by. Nostalgia is the best word I have in my vocabulary of human experiences to describe this, but not necessarily the best word to describe this uncomfortable feeling. People often describe nostalgia as fond memories — a longing for the past. Maybe it’s my selfish, millennial character, but I really feel like mine is a different, unique experience. This feeling, which for the sake of this piece we will call the longing, is, nine times out of ten, brought on by music. Any song can bring it to life at any time, like a cool breeze sending chills down your spine, and just as swiftly.

Music is the all-powerful, all-seeing eye of our past and present, and sometimes future, if you want to get all deep and shit. For me, though, music has a distinct and all-too-familiar taste, smell and even touch. When I hear a song, I’m instantly transported back in time to a place where the melody, the lyrics or the song in its entirety holds meaning. Sometimes this brings a smile to my face, or a reminiscent chuckle past my lips, but sometimes it does something else.

“Feel it in the sunrise, even in the nighttime.”

Although the lyrics in this song undoubtedly lend themselves to feelings of missing something, that’s not necessarily the catalyst for my emotional spiral. I can’t describe perfectly what it is or what it looks like, but I would relate it to the omniscient, overbearing feelings anxiety produces. Perhaps it’s the sweet-spot, mid-range vocal delivery, or the way the percussion makes my head sway in kind with the memories it produces. Sensory or otherwise, the effects are the same.

This time, as I heard it, I became, without trying to sound too dramatic, so overwhelmed with this inexplicable feeling that I felt the need to sit down and write. I realize in saying this that I paint myself in a certain light, but it’s the truth. I’d consider myself to be an abnormally emotional person, whose emotions are very much entwined with external factors. I tend to feel the weight of life’s baggage more heavily than others, I’ve noticed, and this is just another extension of that. I’m eternally tied to my environment, for better or for worse.

Many people describe their relationship to music as religious, and I understand why. While the thoughts and emotions that join me as a passenger on this rollercoaster are often persona non grata, the best way to describe the experience is spiritual. I lose my footing in the here and now and become lost about what once was.

In short: this song makes me feel every loop of my emotional rollercoaster; my longing.

“It’s hard to adjust now ’cause you ain’t around.”

The longing usually ends in a whirlwind trip down memory lane, accompanied by a tear or two (hundred). Yes, it’s like nostalgia in the way that you miss a certain time in your life, but the weird and frustrating part is that the specific times in my life I reminisce on are not that fondly remembered.

I spent a lot of time as an adolescent very sad. I had a fair amount of friends, don’t get me wrong, but I always felt out of place, or too left-of-centre. I did what it took to fit in, and smiled for the cameras, but often, behind closed doors, I was deep in the valleys of depression. I was constantly out partying and never wanted for things to do, but I craved and pleaded for a shred of the happiness I saw all of my friends enjoying.

The dark and twisted, fucked-up part about it all is that I actually do miss parts of that chapter in my life. Things were simpler. Things were fucked, but they were manageable. Through the self-hate and, frankly, destructive teenage behaviour, I was attuned to my rollercoaster. I could shed my tears, pull up my socks, and go for another ride. Now, when I dip into a low, I have to be productive and put on an Oscar-worthy performance (or Tony, I guess is more appropriate here). I’m not allowed to sit in my basement and cry listening to Death Cab for Cutie anymore — why is that? Why is it that when I was a 16-year-old kid, my depression was dismissed as hormones, but now I’m ridiculed and expected to suit up and show up anyway?

The funny thing, to reiterate, is that my depression was less devastating at a younger age. So this, this is the longing. It’s wishing for a time gone; a time that was riddled with riddles about my future fate — would I be happy? Am I happy?

“When will I see you again? I just want to hold your hand in mine.”

As I’m sure we can all relate, as we grow up our circle of friends tends to deplete exponentially, with a half-life less than the illicit drugs that we use to maintain a semblance of our adolescence (okay, maybe that was just me).

I’ve come to know a lot of people over the course of my life thus far. Through sports, extracurriculars and moving a fuck-ton of times, I have been lucky enough to meet people from all walks of life. As a result, I have had a lot of great friendships, whether they’re still intact or not. I have become the person I am today, faults and finesse, because of the many diverse characters that have played a role in my life.

As I hear the lyric above I am brought back to the countless losses I’ve incurred; so many friendships ended and relationships were damaged because of my depression. I long to be that version of myself again with the knowledge I have now; if only to be a fly on the wall, and relive the moment with a new understanding, a new wisdom.

As you can see, the rollercoaster is nausea inducing, and dangerous, to say the least. I struggle with listening to songs like these, for fear of finding myself here again.

The songs that I love so dearly are both a blessing and a curse. I have, in large part, dealt with a lot of the demons that plagued my psyche at that younger age. I’ve sought out help where help was required, and found solace where I’ve needed to. I still have lows, I do, but they are much fewer and farther between.

Being reminded of old memories, with the benefit of a mature perspective, can incite introspection and help develop self-awareness. Sometimes the thoughts lead to a desolate place, but that place lets me know where I stand; am I in the right place, and have I grown?