Mazzy Star is a psychedelic alternative rock band from California. They’re not completely obscure, but they are a bit of a hidden gem in the vast musical landscape of that era. Despite my indescribable love for bands like Zeppelin and Soundgarden, I retain some space in my soul for artists and songs that trigger certain feelings inside me. Mazzy Star has always had a spot, and in particular, even with a catalogue of really great music, there’s always been one song that stood out for me.
As with every one of their songs, it’s a mesmerising composition that unfolds like a sad lullaby, fronted by the enchanting lead singer Hope Sandoval. She gives life to the introspection and longing of the lyrics, lyrics that speak of a desire for connection and to be saved from loneliness. As much as I’d love to do a full analysis of the song, it’s the closing lines that I find myself repeating at the moment:
You are my spirit,
Now you are gone.
In three minutes and eighteen seconds, David Roback and Hope Sandoval have explained better than almost any songwriters what it means to long for someone, to be emotionally dependent, to crave authenticity, and to fear being left alone. In this song, they have captured the complexity of relationships, particularly the pain that we suffer when that relationship ends.
One word that comes to mind when I listen to this song is obsession. The lyrics tell us of a deep attachment and emotional investment, with a plea to quite literally be her angel. There is fear of being forgotten, and these fears fuel obsessive patterns of overthinking. Obsessive thoughts are all-consuming and seemingly impossible to stop. Some revolve around past mistakes; others manifest as more traditional fears and anxieties by magnifying negative outcomes and overshadowing any hope of positivity. I suffer with obsessive thoughts, I find it’s like being trapped in a maddening never-ending cycle of rumination, with every situation becoming a battleground of doubt and worry. Outcomes are analysed and dissected as I seek unobtainable reassurance. What I want to understand is why I fall into these patterns of thought, and how I can escape them.
I found that I am highly susceptible to thinking traps; they are essentially cognitive distortions that twist our thoughts and lead us to conclusions that prevent us from seeing the reality of the bigger picture. I already know that by changing the way we think, we can change our behaviour, which affects our mood and the way we live day to day; hence why this is an important area for me to get to grips with. These are the core traps we fall into, as well as their counterpoints:
Mind Reading: Believing I know what someone is thinking
I cannot read minds
Emotional Reasoning: Believing my feelings to be factual
Feelings aren’t objective evidence
Fortune Telling: Believing I can predict the future (negatively)
I cannot predict the future
Labelling: Believing an outcome reflects my character
No one deserves to be judged
Personalisation: Believing an outcome is entirely my responsibility
It isn’t necessarily my fault
All or Nothing: Believing everything is either black or white (and not grey)
Situations are often very complicated
Overgeneralisation: Believing sweeping conclusions about outcomes
Outcomes are unpredictable
I also now understand that all this catastrophising comes from my general anxiety, and that the triggers are ambiguity or uncertainty. It comes from growing up in an environment of unpredictability and instability, which has nothing to do with the love I was given nor the quality of my overall upbringing. It’s partially down to major changes such as moving houses, schools, and divorce, but there are countless less visible events that would have led to me being this way such as family arguments or inconsistent reactions to my behaviours.
With my abandonment issues, a breakup is without a doubt the most triggering situation, and it is also one of the hardest things for me to overcome. It’s a formidable challenge as I am faced with my deepest insecurities. I feel fundamentally unlovable, unworthy of a meaningful connection, and in turn the pain mixes with my already lacking self-worth, reinforcing unhealthy beliefs that I’m destined to be alone. It’s not so bad when I initiate the breakup, or when it’s sort of mutually understood, but for the two maybe three times when I haven’t wanted it to happen, it really hurts. Obviously, every breakup sucks, but when you really don’t want it to finish it’s unbearable.
Reading this back, it does sound a little selfish, but even when I didn’t want to end a relationship, I still don’t wish any ill upon my exes, I genuinely do want happiness for them even if I’m feeling unhappy with the situation.
A little over two years ago, I was learning what it means to be secure in a relationship and how to allow myself to be vulnerable. I have since become a much more open person who isn’t afraid to feel things like love anymore, and in the past year alone I’ve had enough connections to prove that I’ve come really far in being able to admit my emotions, intentions, and even fears or reservations. I have boundaries, but healthy ones that don’t get in the way of positive interactions, and I am honest about them too. It can be easy for me to write about how bad things are but I don’t want to neglect the progress I’ve made or how good things are outside of this specific thing that I can’t quite shake.
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At 5:30am on Tuesday, I woke up with pain in my lower back. It felt like I had been punched. I got out of bed, went to the toilet, and made my way back when suddenly I fell to the floor. The pain was unbearable and I could hardly move, so I called 111. They were concerned, and called an ambulance for me as they didn’t know if it was my spine or my kidney. I was screaming in agony whilst waiting for the ambulance, the pain was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. After maybe 45 excruciating minutes of waiting, I cancelled the ambulance and was driven to A&E as I couldn’t wait any longer, and the pain was getting worse. As we got closer to the hospital, the pain reduced until it was just extremely sore. I stumbled into the hospital and was seen fairly quickly. Over the course of ten hours, they ran a bunch of tests and eventually figured out it was a problem with my kidney. It’s been a few days since then, and it seems the issue has subsided. Now we’re waiting to see what went wrong.
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Trauma manifests in various forms, with both emotional and physical trauma representing two very different types of wounds, impacting us in their own way with their own consequences. My latest posts, as with most of my posts, have been about emotional trauma – it seems fitting that my next one be about some serious physical stuff. However, whilst the physical pain of my kidney nearly crippled me, once it was over, it was over. Outside of being a bit sore, I can get going with my life. Emotional trauma isn’t as forgiving, it doesn’t have an end point. It lingers. It persists.
Both times when my lung collapsed, the time I had complications with tonsillitis and my throat closed, this fucking kidney; each occasion saw my recovery following a pretty linear path. Medical assistance, surgeries, rehabilitation, treatments, follow ups. There are tangible goals we can reach, such as being able to walk more than a few steps post-surgery, and we can see clear signs of improvement. Likewise, for anything that isn’t working, such as when I was given the wrong medication for my infection; it got worse, they changed my pills, it got better. I would never wilfully go through physical torment, but outside of life altering conditions, we heal. We can watch ourselves heal. We’re allowed to hope. But when it comes to emotional trauma, there really is no clear path.
Emotional trauma is extremely complicated. From diagnosis to treatment, it’s an intricate and multi-faceted issue that permeates many different aspects of our lives. The wounds aren’t always visible, and unlike the agony from a messed-up kidney, sometimes you don’t know how badly you’re actually suffering. For me, the key difference between the two types of trauma is how long they last. As I said, physical injuries can heal over time, but emotional scars will endure. My lung healed, and since then I haven’t had to live any differently aside from not being allowed to skydive or scuba dive (considering I hate heights and deep water, this is totally cool with me). Though I may feel a bit of pain here and there, it doesn’t negatively impact my day-to-day life. What does affect me daily are the remnants of my deep-rooted emotional wounds.
I’m not waking up at 3am because I’m thinking about my collapsed lung, it’s more likely a stressful dream about an ex. There’s no reason I’m excited to get an Instagram DM other than it being from a specific person. This begs the question, why don’t I just speak directly to people? Well sometimes it isn’t that easy, sometimes we aren’t allowed closure, and sometimes speaking directly won’t change a thing. There comes a moment when even in my desperation I know that I just need to let something go. There’s no point in trying to pursue a thing that no longer exists, there’s no reason to explain anything.
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I know these posts can get a bit repetitive, but that’s what it’s like for me. It’s a cycle of chasing after something that I can’t ever reach. In a world of social media and dating apps, I still feel disconnected. It all feels fragmented, and I struggle to find connections that transcend the superficiality of my regular everyday interactions. Why do I feel so alone? I have everything I need; I have great friends and a supportive family, I go on dates with interesting people, I go out loads, my best mate is my dog and my dog is awesome. Why do I feel so down all the time?