When the spark returns

Very rarely I will stumble across a music video that’s so unique — so special — that it knocks me out of whatever funk I’d been in. Something about it just awakens the inspiration, or it breathes new life into me when I’d been stuck in a rut and my life was going nowhere. All of my negative thoughts and CPTSD symptoms just halt or decrease, and I’m consumed with a better idea; there are still things out there that make life worth living.

I’ve only stumbled across these special kinds of music videos a few times that I can remember, and I recently found another one. It’s by a new indie artist that I discovered on Instagram, and I’m so thankful he came across my radar. I’ll let you watch the brilliant video and then explain just why it jumpstarted my life again.

I’ve replayed this video and song a ridiculous amount of times. It’s become my walking song (or riding, if I need my power chair on a bad day). I understood it on a deep level when it comes to dissociating and being stuck in a rut, but it reminded me of other things that are bittersweet.

It reminded me of the year I was severely ill and anorexic several years ago, and I was homebound and spent a lot of time in bed. I’m plural, and my alters and spirit guides were my only company at the time. We would often spend nights out in the living room while I laid on the sofa, just listening to music, talking, and letting each other pick films to commentate on. We made a large body of creative work; videos, audio recordings, and a lot of writing.

Supernormal’s video reminded me of those nights. When we were stuck inside and we’d stay up until it was almost sunrise, just losing ourselves to the moment and enjoying what we had. It was comforting. Safe. A small bubble where we could do anything we wanted, since all we needed to create was a computer or a sketchbook. Sure, we were confined to my small apartment and time was just flying by, but the late nights and the amount of creativity that came from them were so valuable.

I also have a dissociative disorder called DPDR, or depersonalization/derealization. It can feel like time doesn’t exist, or it doesn’t make much sense, when you’re in a DPDR state of mind. The purgatorial, isolated feeling of Supernormal’s video really hit home where that’s concerned, and it captured it so wonderfully.

It also reminded me of the campy musicals I’ve always loved so much. Lo, Rocky Horror Picture Show, and Shock Treatment are just a few. They take place in such a small area, or in just one specific location for most of the film, and it feels a bit surreal. It made me wish for more Supernormal. I want a longer version — a whole Supernormal 80s sci-fi musical I can bask in like you would with a cozy blanket on a dark autumn night.

Ever since slamming the replay button repeatedly, I’ve started walking again. I may be a bit manic at the moment, but if it’s not hurting me (too much; chronic fatigue syndrome might have something to say later), I might has well follow where it takes me.

Last night, I did. And it was magic.

I put Supernormal on repeat in my headphones around eight o’clock at night, and I left my apartment. When I got halfway down the hall, I realized I’d forgotten my cane. My anxiety spiked for a brief moment, but I kept walking. The craving for one normal moment, like the old days when I walked all the time at night, was stronger than any fear I might have had.

I took the elevator down and walked outside, and I cranked up the volume and headed toward the main sidewalk. Without the power chair or the cane, I felt free. And the panic attacks I always got when I left my apartment before? Absent. I wasn’t scared.

I was happy. A feeling I haven’t had in years.

I smiled and kept going. The light from the signs in the city and all the blaring headlights from the cars on the road — it painted a dark world in a way that was special to the night. The moon was bright and clear in the sky. I felt safe and well hidden in the shadows, so no one would notice me. More importantly though, I was reminded that I truly am a nocturnal person, and the night is when I feel most creative and alive.

The too-hot sun that made my sensitive eyes sting and caused heat rashes was gone. The fear of being perceived or judged or watched was gone. My mind that was normally full of brain fog felt alight and spinning with creative ideas. Supernormal blared through my headphones and it created an atmosphere that reminded me of who I was underneath all of the anger, depression, suicidal thoughts, anxiety, and illnesses; the goth that loved to get lost in fantasy.

I ended up doodling something inspired by the song and video’s themes. It fit perfectly within my ‘Voidcreature’ world I’ve been privately creating for years, except this time, the void was full of stars rather than haunting eyes, and while it was still depressing with a dissociative flair, it was a comforting depression. It was the kind of dissociation that takes you away somewhere else that’s dreamlike and fascinating. The void creature in it wasn’t like the others; instead of a blank expression and almost no unique features, this void creature had a unique face with proper eyes, an expression of sadness, and an outfit that was inspired by Leo Lauren’s in Supernormal (which, I discovered, he made the shirt himself).

I wrote a bit of verse on it too, although it was definitely just a sudden stream of thought to capture the general themes. It also inspired me to attempt to capture that campy musical feeling in a book format, and I thought of a creative way to do the sections that would be in song, which would be written in a different format than the narrative bits. I initially started writing the entire thing in verse, but it was too difficult and brain fog won out. So I want to do a hybrid. It’ll be based on that drawing, too.

Sometimes, inspiration will find you in a way that you didn’t see coming. Just one special song can be enough to bring the ‘you’ back that you’d been missing. In today’s world especially, it’s so important to let that kind of thing in and bask in it. Turn off the news for a bit, log off social media for a few days, and just let yourself rediscover what made you feel alive.

Kofi | Itchio | My Books