Scream – the Song
Music. Songs. Lyrics. Melodies. I’ve mentioned previously how much music can connect with me and be therapeutic for me. More often than not, the music can soothe us, give us something to relate to. As the image to the right says: we want someone to explain the things we can’t. So that’s where my post about the song Scream comes in.
As I write this, it’s not a good day. I’m feeling that Harrowing Void I talk about, rather strongly. So what do I do? I turn some music on. Now, I can’t just listen to albums anymore, I have to put them on shuffle. I like the randomness of it, not knowing what’s coming next. I have playlists and albums and individual songs and so much that I can turn to (I have something like 6600 songs on my iPod!!). Does this sound familiar? Anyway, as I’m sat here feeling awful, a song comes on and it captures something that’s been going through my mind for a little while now.
It’s called Scream.
Over on our Community Page, on 10/03/2018, we featured a post from Katie called Feeling Invisible. It was something that grabbed my attention as I was looking for content, because it spoke so clearly to something that I’d thought over the past few weeks. My thought was: if you had cancer or some other physical illness, people would be checking in and asking how you were; with mental illness, all you can see are tumbleweeds.
Now don’t get me wrong, there are some awesome people out there who notice when you disappear, who notice when you’re not around and, perhaps more importantly, who notice when you’re not doing so good. Cheryl is one of those people and I have another friend called Andrew who is another. These people are worth millions because they are there when you need them, putting themselves at the back of the line to ensure you get what you need.
Despite having those people around, however, it can feel like you’re invisible.
All too often, people don’t seem to care. I go through my Twitter or Google+ daily and see cries for help under the various hashtags; people saying they’re stuck in that proverbial rut, unable to cope and needing a bit of help. And the worst part? Their posts have practically no comments or anything.
It’s like they’re invisible.
With social media being so crowded with so many people vying for space, it can be difficult to get our voices out there, to make them heard.
That’s probably why I related so well to this song. By ZOEGirl, it is an amazing song that talks about that invisibility that we can feel. The lyrics to Scream, I find, are so powerful. The opening verse, for starters, says: “Does anybody know how I feel? Sometimes I’m numb, sometimes I’m overcome. Does anybody care what’s going on? Do I have to wear my scars like a badge on my arm for you to see me, I need release…”
Perhaps more powerful than that, the chorus says: “Do I have to scream for you to hear me? Do I have to bleed for you to see me? ‘Cause I grieve, you’re not listening to me. Do I need to scream?”
How often have you felt like that? Can you relate? Desperate for the help, we feel like we want to scream, like we want to bleed so people will notice. It’s perhaps one of the reasons why self-harm so frequently gets labelled as a cry for help, because it seems to be the only way that we can be heard.
We have to scream.
You Don’t Have To Scream
Those of you reading this, feeling as though you relate…you don’t have to scream. Knowing what it’s like going through this hell, I’m here for you. I will listen. You don’t have to scream for me to hear you, you don’t have to bleed for me to see you. I will listen.
You don’t have to scream.
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