What You Don't See

I'm about to get real with you. Downright vulnerable and real. This isn't a lift your spirits kind of post. So don't expect rainbows or sunshine or cute little parenthood memes. This is something I've been wanting to share publicly but afraid to. No surprise there as you will soon find out in about three sentences from now. So Friday, September 30th, I had the opportunity to sing Elvis' Can't Help Falling In Love, for a beautiful couple's first dance at their wedding. This was a first for me. I wish I could say that I was super excited to do it. And I don't mean that in the way it sounds. I was absolutely honored she asked me, and even more delighted that she was so happy with the performance, but because of my performance anxiety struggles, I wasn't able to feel excited about it for the three months leading up to it. Only after the performance was I able to step outside of my pounding head and realize holy crap. I did it. I didn't think I could. [And by the way it was a solid and amazing performance. I've included the video at the end of the post]. And even then, it wasn't my usual perky happy self, it was a muted version because I was busy recovering from all the intense anxiety I had dealt with all day. I know how bad that sounds. Trust me. I do. In fact no one knows it better than I. Truth is I should have been on cloud nine. But I wasn't.

I'm not sure when it got this bad for me. I mean I've always been nervous to sing in public, but there's been certain times in my life when it was out-of-control-bad, and other times when I got a few butterflies and that was that. And I can't tell you how many people tell me, "you shouldn't be nervous", or "you're just singing in front of people like you", or "anxiety isn't real". But the problem is that it IS real. I realize that it's a choice, and that fear/anxiety can't coexist with peace. But right now in my life, it's as real as it's ever been and I can't just shake it off. Or simply tell myself, "hey you're okay, just be calm". Maybe the problem or reason that I get more nervous at certain times about performing than others, is because I don't do it enough. And if it is that, well then the brutal reality of that is that I would need to keep performing in order for it to get easier. But that means I have to endure more anxiety. Which I can't fathom doing.

Let me ask you something. What do you see when you look at that picture? I look happy right? I mean I look like I'm at total peace without a care in the world! Wrong. I mean yes. I'm smiling because my sister let me borrow an amazingly gorgeous dress and this was the first time since I gave birth to Noah that I got to put on an amazingly gorgeous dress. So yes. I was pretty psyched about dressing up. Also, my makeup went on perfectly. I was going to have M.A.C. do it, but I decided the wiser decision would be to save the money and do it myself. Not a bad job if I do say so myself. ;] Back to the picture. What you don't see here is that I cried several times earlier in the day. What you don't see is the overwhelming burn that exhausted my body from the moment my eyes jolted open at 4:30 A.M. that morning, from the anxiety that had tormented me for weeks, and even more intensely this day. What you don't see is the depression that had accompanied the anxiety. What you don't see is the many negative things I had told myself about all the ways I could mess up the performance, and how I wasn't that great of a singer. What you don't see is the inner battle I had with myself about whether or not I should take an Ativan before singing (which I decided yes on, but forgot to bring with me, so sang without it). What you don't see is the upset toddler in the background, and when I say background I mean as far back as you can get because when anxiety takes center stage, no one else really exists, you're just on autopilot and everyone else is beyond your mental realm. What you don't see is the guilt that fought the anxiety for first place from snapping at my toddler multiple times throughout the day, for what I imagine was just him needing his mama's attention, but couldn't get it because mama was hurting and scared. What you don't see is the inner battle that took place for hours, weeks and months to fight off these negative thoughts and fears that even caused physical problems. What you don't see is the endless pleading to my Heavenly Father to just take it all away. All you see is a girl smiling in a pretty black dress. And honestly, that's okay. I prefer it that way. But something has to change. 

I mean look at those shoes. How can anyone feel anything but elated about a sexy pair of shoes they found on clearance at Payless, no less, and that are super comfortable to walk in despite the 4" heels?! I say to that, no one! But the truth is I didn't. I may have had a few short-lived moments where I felt normal and happy to be a girl smiling in a pretty black dress, but the rest of that morning I was down-right miserable. But maybe that's not what I should be focusing on. Maybe I should be focusing on the fact that I DID have a few short-lived moments where I felt normal and happy to be a girl smiling in a pretty black dress. The trick I suppose it to figure out how to accept me for me, and love the voice I have and sing for me. Sing for Noah. Sing for those I love and hearts I want to lift with my voice. And here's a kicker. I absolutely LOVE singing, and when I finally get going in a performance and I'm singing into that mic with amazing acoustics and my voice carries throughout the room, I feel like that's where I belong. That there isn't anywhere else I would rather be than right there, in front of that mic, singing my little heart out...except of course with my little angel. So what do I do then? I briefly discussed with the DJ at the venue about possibly being a vocalist that couples could opt for to sing cocktail hour at their weddings at this particular venue. This seems pretty reasonable. A lot of people are usually under the influence so it would take the edge off a bit. Also, people would be coming and going so there wouldn't be any real threat to my psyche. Again, I know this sounds crazy, but anyone who suffers with anxiety, and more specifically performance anxiety, knows the struggle. And knows that no amount of words or positive affirmations or essential oils can reign it in when its got the best of you. But all this said, I don't want to give up. In fact I didn't realize I didn't until I just wrote it and said it in my mind. I don't. I want to sing. It's such a part of my life that I can't imagine ever stopping. And I believe and agree with my friends and family that I have a gift that needs to be shared with the world. And if it can generate some extra income, even better. But right now at this point in my life, anxiety has won. It has taken center stage and honestly I've had enough. 

So I'm writing this to really just hold myself accountable and give myself something to refer to when I'm having doubts, or when I'm frightened of committing to a performance. I DON'T WANT TO GIVE UP. Even though the adversary continuously puts these doubts in my head and this fear in my heart, I DON'T WANT TO GIVE UP. And more importantly I don't want to show my son that it's okay to give up because things get scary. He needs to see my strength and love and passion in what I do. Selfishly, I want to be able to say yes to singing for an event and then be absolutely excited every day until the day of the performance. I want it to feel like Christmas. Because when I'm on stage, it's pretty dang close to that feeling. You know the warmth and joy and excitement that's present during the Christmas season that has you walking a little lighter, giving a little more and smiling from ear to ear? Yeah. I want it to feel like that.

I want to be able to get ready, do my makeup and hair while dancing to my favorite music as I mentally prepare to rock the stage. I want to get in front of that mic with confidence and exude stage presence like it's nobody's business but mine. I want to walk off that stage feeling like a queen, knowing that I gave the best performance I could have given. I want to be free to talk to people before and after a performance because anxiety is no longer keeping me prisoner inside my head and afraid to do so. I want to be able to run home and tell Noah about how amazing it was to sing and how happy it makes me. And most importantly I want to be able to look back at pictures and be proud of what I see. I don't want to see fear. I don't want to see the anxiety, pain and anguish that accompanied that day. I want to look back at pictures of me performing and say, "that was such an amazing day and a kick ace performance" and, "I had so much fun performing" and, "I can't wait to do it again".

So I'm determined to figure this crap out. Through energy work, EMDR, oils and lots of love and support from family and friends, I will figure this crap out. I don't know how long it will take me, and as I've said before, this journey will be long and it will be hard, but I still want to take it. And as I posted on FB months ago, I'm still going to be ready to sing, I Will Always Love You, by the beautiful Whitney Houston and Dolly Parton, May of next year to the guitar that I will have improved on, and nail it. With confidence. Also, I will find a way to get out there and perform. Whether it be karaoke or open mic night or simply on a crowded street, or hey maybe randomly at a Walmart, I will find a way to overcome this dreadful fear that honestly cripples and paralyzes my mind and my soul, and do what I was born to do. Sing my heart out.

Also, I would really love an excuse to buy more cocktail dresses, evening gowns and shoes. :]