We’ve all been there before. You waited weeks, months, maybe even a year to attend a concert you had tickets for to come around. You spent all that time building up excitement that there was no way the few hours you were to spend inside the venue could possibly be enough. Of course, that day nears and is over and gone before you know it. The concert itself was unsurprisingly fantastic and you’ll go on to rave about it and annoy all of your friends and family for weeks to come. Once the music stops and the lights come up, you’re already replaying it on a loop in your mind.

At first, you will just be so happy you got to attend the show that you won’t even think twice about it. You will glance at all of the photos and video footage you had taken and smile momentarily before going back to whatever you were supposed to be doing. Like most people, you will still be playing that band’s music and nothing else. After a week or two, you will transition back into shuffle mode and contemplate which artist you want to see next. Obviously, you want to go back in time to that last show, but it’s still rather fresh in your head that missing it won’t feel so extreme.

Somewhere down the line, the inevitable occurs. Maybe it’s just one song that was on the setlist manages to pop up on your phone. Maybe it’s a silly 6-second Vine of the band members goofing off. Maybe it’s just a slow night and you’re trying to remember the last time you felt really in your element. That’s when the post-concert depression creeps in. It’s slow at first, but once you can identify what exactly is happening, it hits you like a truck. The severe anguish of not being able to comprehend how such a pivotal night could have passed. Why did you take those few hours for granted while you were living in them? Why didn’t you take more photos to remember the night by? Actually, why did you even bother taking photos instead of just paying attention and being fully present in the moment? It’s all too much and it just sucks.

To those who have fallen victim: I feel for you. This is why I’m here to say there is a bright side.

I attend more concerts in a year than I can keep track of. I’m extremely blessed in that sense. While any concert is a special experience for me, I have to admit that there are some that are really not that memorable. It depends on a multitude of factors: the line up, the venue, the stage set up, the audience, etc. Not every show makes me feel so alive, so as a result, I don’t always get that dreaded PCD. I'm not saying that I'm not enjoying myself, but the way I look at it, there is just a bar to be raised. If I’m not blown away, I can still have a good time, but then I’m just itching to find a performer that can top the last one. It makes me more inclined to buy tickets rather than stay home and wonder what I missed out on. I become more intrigued by the prospect of having a better time than I did in the past.

Another reason to be sort of thankful you feel that longing to go back is because it means you found something that made you happy, and that is a victory in itself. I can't imagine what people who don't go to shows do with themselves, but I'm sure they have their own source of happiness of equal measure. Sometimes the PCD can feel similar to missing a friend you haven't seen in awhile, or missing your childhood. Nostalgia is often cruel, but it doesn't always have to be. It's all about perspective. Therefore, whenever I do find myself feeling plagued by the notion that the best nights of my life are behind me, I just have to remind myself that I've felt this way countless times before and I've always been wrong. Each performance is unique, which means there's always room for something new and better to happen the next time you attend your favorite band's show. In the mean time, just be thankful we have sites like YouTube to relive those nights as best we can!