Returning Light

Deadlines. Meetings. Phone calls. Saying no. Saying yes. Doorbells. Dress codes. These are just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to things that stress me out. I have always been an anxious person to the point where it has become synonymous with my name. I worry about letting people down and so, I take on more responsibility than one can handle at any given point. Thus, the cycle of worry and stress continues. I have always stressed about things that do not matter and the irony of how I can acknowledge that they don’t matter yet continue to stress is not lost on me, believe me.

I have also always been an avid lover of music. In Irish class, it always felt weird to say that music was my favourite ‘caitheamh aimsire’ (or past-time for those gan teanga) when it didn’t feel on the same level as the Irish dancing classes I trudged to every Monday. The word passion didn’t even feel worthy. In my head, it feels like I can’t exist without music. To be without that ability to create and learn and share is simply unfathomable. This feeling was strong as I grew up and hardened my fingertips with the guitar and sang my throat red raw almost daily but a dependence soon developed and its intensity directly correlated with the anxious feelings brewing inside me.

I joined my first band in Transition Year and suddenly, I had a concrete outlet to express myself and work until I no longer had to listen to my own head. I had been in musicals before where I got to sing but this was the first time that it was ME onstage. No backstory, no costume. It was my voice singing my words. We were primarily a cover band with a few ideas floating about for an original tune but getting people to pitch lyrics always created a sort of heavy awkward silence. Apparently, sharing your deepest darkest thoughts can feel slightly uncomfortable. Who would’ve thought? I have a strange love/hatred for songwriting- I have notes upon notes in my phone of misplaced melodies and random choruses written in the back of my college notebooks but I know full well that that’s where the majority will stay. Vomiting these feelings of anxiety and desperation on a page can make some fantastic hooks but to share these would be to reveal a part of myself that I still struggle to admit exists. Some of my best, most vulnerable lyrics have been written in pink diaries at 3am with the pencil ripping the page, my grip more like a fist than anything else.

The importance of having a creative outlet cannot be emphasised enough. During my teenage years, pressure, the fear of failure and general anxiety hummed steadily in the back of my head but as they trekked closer to the surface, I could feel their influence spreading. My friendships suffered, my attitude towards school and learning soured and I struggled to see past the possibility of complete failure when it came to choosing my career path. Don’t get me wrong: I have a fantastic support system at home. My parents have been supportive of every choice I’ve made in terms of school and college and I am eternally grateful for never feeling any pressure from their end. However, I still battled – and continue to battle- with this inner monologue. Music appeared to be one of the only things that I knew I was good at. I knew I could hold a tune and thus, I took every excuse I could to escape for a while and do something I truly, truly loved. Of course, I’d never really recommend such a dependency. I mean what did I expect to happen when this one good thing became compromised? I’m a ferociously competitive person and so at times, I could feel my brain swirling and jaw clenching when it became obvious that I wasn’t the best at my one good thing. I’m becoming better at separating my talent from this imaginary competition but my reliance on music to soothe my mental health can often be a cage rather than the escape it was supposed to be.

Since starting college in DCU and moving away from home, I have noticed that the discussion of mental health, especially in the music industry, is becoming more commonplace in the city. Perhaps, it’s because the only event in Donegal that I feel really opens this conversation and includes my love for music is Returning Light, and not to be biased, but it truly is one of the most important and beautiful evenings of the year to me. However, in Dublin and especially in college society life, these events occur almost weekly and the stigma blocking the discussion of mental health appears very infrequently. One such example that I felt channelled a lot of my emotions around music’s power to tear down this stigma and create a safe space for mental health is that of ‘Craicin Up’, an annual music event in Whelan’s organised by DCU’s Mental Health Society. This event in aid of Jigsaw, the Irish charity helping young people with mental illness, had one of the most amazing atmospheres that I’ve ever experienced at a music gig. Acts such as Eve Belle and Joel Harkin emphasised the aim of the evening by sharing their own lyrics, lyrics that paralleled the ones that I would never show anyone. Speaking to my friend and chairperson of the society, Sorcha Murphy, about the night, she said:

“Craicin Up is an event I hold incredibly close to my heart. It is proven that music has only positive impacts on mental well-being and DCU holding a live music concert, in Ireland’s most prestigious music venue featuring a unique lineup of Irish musicians is just something out of a dreamland. Seeing and feeling the atmosphere in the room during Craicin Up was so overwhelming… Watching over one hundred students be able to relax and let their worries free to the beat of the music was just so lovely and something I am incredibly proud to have been able to provide.”

I’m well aware that having a few events in aid of mental health charities isn’t going to change the stigma around this discussion in Ireland but with so many of these organisations being entirely funded by donations, they have the power to change lives by providing someone who reaches out for help the services they need and they have the power to actually push someone to seek help in the first place. I mean, they can’t possibly hurt, right?

When writing this piece, I tried to stray from the normal clichés that come from discussing the power and influence of music yet, the problem with clichés is that they’re cliché for a reason. I can’t deny that music changed my life; it’s a key element of who I am and I don’t know where I be right now if I had never found my outlet. Truthfully, I know that I could never say ‘music saved my life’ but on some level, I believe that music stopped me from ever getting near the point where I may need saving. I was extremely lucky to receive other support for my chronic stress also. A guidance counsellor in Letterkenny gave me mental techniques that I could practice when the fear of failing began to take over and I owe mountains of gratitude to my secondary school guidance counsellor who always validated my feelings and encouraged my creative outlet.

Once again, I cannot emphasise the importance of having an outlet for stress enough. Having something that I can channel my anger and frustration and 10 kilo buckets of tears into is not something that I take for granted. Funny how destructive feelings can lead to something so constructive, isn’t it?

We’d like to thank Kate Gurren for this eloquent insight into how Music aids her keeping her Mental Health in check. 

If you or anyone you know is suffering from Mental Health issues don’t be afraid to contact local services such as Donegal Family Resourse Centre 0749725337 or Let’s Talk Counselling Service 0876884953 OR National Services Aware 1800 80 48 48 or Pieta House Freecall 1800 247 247

Click here for last week’s Spotlight w/Niki Pollock 

And here for our review of this months Ghostlight Sessions.