For the longest time, grades and intelligence superseded every other aspect of my life, and because of this it all caught up to me at once. I had a crisis in which I lost entirely who I was. It was an attempt to fit in, to feel better in some convoluted way that would never actually get me anywhere. I do realize that now, but I still feel incredibly self-conscious about the way and moreover what exactly I eat. It was strangely all my own doing, as I somehow took on a personality that cared too much about how I looked to accurately take care of myself. I was lucky enough to gradually realize that my world should not be halted because of the number on the scale that I used to pray would go down every day. I sit here in awe of the fact that I let myself get to that point. After this realization that I was not fully mentally sound, I decided that psychology may not be the best career choice as I couldn’t understand how I, with so many problems and uncertainties, could possibly help to fix anyone with even greater problems.
It was at this point that music reached forth its hand and grasped my soul and squeezed my heart. It felt like I started leaking from a place I once thought to be empty. One band in particular, Bastille, took its place in my empty world and I will never understand what I did to deserve such a Godsend. I drove to “Sleepsong” when it grew dark outside and the sky turned to tar. I was afraid of the night, but whispered the lyrics along to the track until I got home. I listened to “The Weight of Living Part I” each morning before school and I gained enough strength to leave the parking lot and head for the eight hour trial. I found comfort in four strangers from across the world who somehow understood some of the things I could never put into words. From the moment I heard “Pompeii” on the radio on the way home from school one fateful fall afternoon, I have been consumed in the incredible world of music that has bloomed before me. I’ve become involved again in playing instruments and learning music, I’ve grown attached to numerous other artists including Twenty One Pilots and Jon Bellion, who do wonders for me too. I have been to more than 50 concerts, 6 of them Bastille concerts across the country. What’s most incredible to me about my connection to the band is the interactions I have had with the band up to this point that have made me feel that I am actually very special.
I met my best friend Jane at Bastille’s first headline show in Milwaukee when she wanted someone to sit with in line. For eight hours, we got to know each other before both ending up first row for one of the greatest nights of my life. She lives in St. Louis, but we have traveled together to Chicago and to Denver for Bastille shows. Jane means the world to me, and our bond stretches beyond any quantifiable distance because of a small instance of designed fate one fall afternoon when I happened to hear a catchy tune on the radio. Despite the fact I see her on special occasions, each hug that I get from her feels just as special as the first and I would not trade her for anything in this life. I identify very heavily with the lead singer of Bastille, Dan Smith. His lyricism and similar life endeavors provide a cushion of friendship that guides me in a lot of ways. He has complimented my drawings on social media, I’ve gotten gifts to him through friends and most crucially I’ve made lifelong friendships and shared some of the greatest nights of my life with people I love dancing to music that echoes in my bones.
