“The words of the soul are, simply and purely, music written from the mind and the body.”

This was the philosophy I’ve lived by since before I moved to Colorado. It was hard for me to leave all of my friends behind, so I just relied on music to comfort me instead. Everyday felt like torture with only the soft, melodic voices of people like Patrick Stump and Florence Welch to sooth the pain. There was one day when the music almost didn’t help me.

I had just found out that we were moving, again, to Colorado. When I heard this, I felt like a balloon that was deflating, slowly letting out air until there was only empty space left.

“Are you okay, honey?” Mom said, her voice surprisingly calm.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said in a bored voice, wanting to be left alone.

“You know we wouldn’t be moving if we didn’t have. Your dad got a job in a very good place with good people.”

“I’m not a child Mom, you don’t have to talk to me that way.” By now I was trying not to cry.

“Just think, you’ll get to see snow where we’re moving.” My mom was trying to stay positive, but I wasn’t listening.

“Can I just, please be alone,” I said, choking back tears.

“Okay, I’ll call you down for dinner,” she said quietly as she left my room.

I needed to get away, to go somewhere that I can be alone. Where could I go, What could I do? “I can’t move again, I can’t,” I thought as I figured out a place to go.

“I can’t deal with this! I can’t do this again! ” I said, as I locked myself in the bathroom with my comforter and CD player. I played one of my favorite records, Paramore’s self-titled album, in an attempt to block out the little voices in my head.

“You should just go away!” they said. “No one needs you!” they said.

“I don’t want to go away, I don’t want to do anything.” I replied in a hushed voice.

As the seventh track on the album started playing, I saw something glint off of the light my bathroom. It was the razor blade I used to shave with, the one that was in my shower. The voices in my head started chanting my name, trying to get me to do what I promised I’d never do. I thought, What if I made that one cut that the doctors can’t stitch.

I felt my heartbeat speed up as the voices got louder. There was a terrible screeching in my ears that made me think I was going to go deaf. I almost forgot that I was listening to music as I got up and crept towards my shower. I climbed over the edge of the tub and looked up at my razor. It kept glinting in only what I can describe as slow motion. I felt sweat drizzle down my forehead as my focus began to isolate. I was staring death right in the face and in that moment, I acted.  

As I reached for the blades, I became enchanted by something I heard. Paramore’s eighth track started playing and I was intrigued by the lyrics. I started crying halfway through the song when I heard what was being said. “And the salt in my wounds isn’t burning anymore than it used to, It’s not that I don’t feel the pain, it’s just I’m not afraid of hurting anymore. And the blood in these veins isn’t pumping any less than it ever has. And that’s the hope I have, the only thing I know that’s keeping me alive.” (Paramore: Hayley Williams, Jeremy Davis, Taylor York).

The tears came down even harder as I took in those words.

“Can something like that really happen?” I said aloud to myself.

Can anyone possibly be that strong? I thought to myself. The voices in my head started yelling and screaming at me, trying to get me to change my mind. I suddenly found myself pushing the voices down, trying to quiet them. As I shoved the last one away, I was relieved to hear mostly silence. I stood up and exited my bathroom, going to my room to think.

After that I finished school, not with the best grades, but I finished nonetheless. We left three days later, after which we stayed at my dad’s apartment for awhile. Thinking back, although that experience was terrible, it also made my resolve stronger. I want to get to that place where I’m not afraid anymore. I don’t want to feel like the salt in my wounds is a burden. In that moment, in the bathroom, I realized that music really is the words of the soul.