Letting go

Well I have lost 94 pounds!  Hooray!

Something that has been going on that I feel inclined to write about is my obsession with Nirvana here lately.  Kurt Cobain specifically.

I was 18 or so when Nirvana became famous and supposedly 'changed the face of music' way back when.  I was a fan.  I thought Kurt and Krist were cuties,  I had their CDs, I rushed home from work to watch Unplugged, blah blah.  I always seemed to be working  or otherwise busy when they came around in concert, and I really regret not making time.  I never dreamed there potentially wouldn't BE another time.  I felt the betrayal when Kurt killed himself. That was a dark day.  I was in San Antonio at the time.  It's amazing the mark Nirvana left in just the short time they were popular.  Arguably, the Foo Fighters are way more successful, but that's a post for another time, and probably another blog too.  'Laura's adventures in alternative music' perhaps?

I digress. I watched Kurt Cobain: Montage of Heck last week and realized that I really didn't know all that much about him.  So I started researching.  I'd be safe in saying with all the reading and movie watching I've done on Mr. Cobain, I am highly knowledgeable about him now.  I have even been through the gamut of emotions about it.  Again.  I have gone from sad (aww he killed himself), to questioning (This suicide stuff doesn't add up-Courtney MUST go down!  Wait...Why am I wasting so much of my time on this?), to anger (how DARE he be so selfish and take himself from his daughter and all the thousands (millions?-I have little faith in humanity) of people that really do care).  Anyways, the guy was a bipolar, creative, clinically depressed, anti-social Pisces.  Is it safe to say I identify a bit with him? You betcha.  He wanted out.  It all became too much.  The Music Industry machine making billions most certainly wasn't going to stop and God knows what it must have been like being married to ole Courtney-I'm sure that wasn't living up to expectations.  Any one of us can go down this path, and that he made it as long as he did untreated (back in '94 I think there was just Prozac and he allegedly had a bad reaction to it-you just needed to suck it up) actually makes him a little bit of a hero. 

What heroin was to him is what food is (or was) to me.

The other day I had a really upsetting thing that happened.  I cried for a few hours.  My pain was raw.  I had trouble dealing with it.  My mind was like a water hose with super high pressure just flitting around.  I couldn't make it stop.  I wanted to numb it.  I wanted food.  No, that's no good.  I wanted pain killers.  Wait, that's scary.  I wanted sleeping pills to just go to sleep.  Wait, that's scary too.  For the first time, I dealt with my pain without medicating myself with food.  Yay me!

I often think of a quote by Janet Fitch, “You've got to let go of who you were, to become who you will be.” I'm letting go.

RIP Kurt.