#i hope you realize how much your albums mentally and emotionally destroy me

[azures-grace]

"Stop making up death wishes and just take my life.. line..." he says...

Or at least that's a cliche to represent what he meant...

That's what I meant...

[hold-me-sickfics]

14 Days: J-Hope (Part 2!)

Alright y’all, here’s part 2!

TW: Tiny emeto mention, food, anxiety/panic attacks, hospital, nightmares (let me know if you see any I missed!)

Also, huge thank you to @thatoneemokpop-02 for all their help and ideas <3 They’re amazing!

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Yoongi was ready to do whatever he needed to in order to help Hoseok recover. He glanced at his watch, and saw that it was almost 8:00 a.m. The other members would be here at 9:00 to pick them up. Yoongi looked over at the sleeping boy, smiling a bit as Hoseok’s chest rose and fell. He went to Hoseok’s side. 

“Good morning Hobi.”

Hoseok woke up to Yoongi rubbing his arm softly.

“Morning Yoongi,” Hoseok still felt exhausted. Unfortunately, sleeping in a hospital was well… IMPOSSIBLE. All throughout the night, nurses had been coming in to check on him. He hadn’t been able to sleep for more than an hour at a time all night.

“I know you’re still tired bud. We’re gonna get you home and then you can sleep all you need to. Not to mention, I’m gonna be the one keeping track of what you eat.”

“No, Yoongi…” Hoseok pouted, knowing his fast food would now be limited.

“Yes baby. Your doctor came in this morning to check on you and he told me that you collapsed partially because you weren’t eating right.”

Hoseok sighed.

“My doctor’s a snitch.”

“No, you’re just bad at keeping track of your health when you get focused in on something.” Yoongi laughed and Hoseok looked at him with an annoyed glare.

Yoongi packed up everything Jin had sent in the bag the night before.

“Relax,” he laughed. “I won’t be totally crazy. You can still have some junk food.”

“Can we get McDonalds’ on the way home?”

“No.”

“Okay then see? You’re robbing me of the essentials.”

Yoongi laughed, and looked back at Hoseok who was partially smiling.

“Hey uh, Yoongi?”

“Yeah?”

“I um… I think we have a problem.”

“What do you mean?” Yoongi came over to Hoseok who was holding his phone.

“Namjoon’s called three times, Jin called four, and the maknaes have called nine times altogether.”

“Well… better call them back. I can talk to them if you’re feeling too tired.”

“Nah, I’ll call them. I know you’re just as tired as me. Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure, anything.”

Hoseok took Yoongi’s hands.

“Go get yourself some breakfast. You gotta take care of yourself too.”

Yoongi hated to admit it, but Hoseok was kinda right. Since he’d been so focused on Hoseok’s health, he’d forgotten about his own.

“Okay, but don’t you dare try to get up on your own. I’ll be back in a few minutes alright?” Yoongi rubbed Hoseok’s shoulder, and then left to get food.

He ate nearly three bites of biscuit, and a piece of bacon. It was all he could stomach with Hoseok on his mind. He threw away his garbage and headed back to Hoseok’s room. He found it swarming with doctors. He pressed his way through and saw them laying Hoseok down.

“Mr. Jung, you can’t get up on your own yet. It’s only going to make your injuries worse.” The nurse closest to him looked in his eyes to try and strengthen her words.

“Yeah, I’ll make sure I get someone next time. Thanks.” Hoseok grimaced and ran his hand down his injured leg.

“Hoseok…”

“Crap.” Hoseok knew he messed up. Yoongi was already worried, and he’d no doubt just made it worse.

“I knew I shouldn’t have left you. I’m so sorry…”

Yoongi hated to pull this stunt, but if he was gonna get Hoseok to take care of himself, he needed to pull it off.

“No, Yoongi it was my fault. I was stupid. I’ll be more careful.”

“No, it was my fault. I could have waited to eat when we got home but I was being selfish…” Yoongi wanted Hoseok to understand what a careless act could cause a caretaker to feel like. With that, hopefully Hoseok would try to take better care of himself in an effort to keep Yoongi feeling like he was doing a good job. Psychology chaos? Yes. Crucial to Hoseok’s recovery? Also, yes.

“Yoongi, stop. I wanted to get up to prove to myself I could. I was gonna do it at home if I didn’t do it here. It wasn’t your fault alright?”

Yoongi knew Hoseok. That annoyance in his voice wasn’t directed at the situation. He was terrified that he wasn’t able to walk or stand on his own.

“Okay. I just… I don’t want you to hurt yourself worse…”

This was true. Yoongi was worried for Hoseok, and rightfully so. He’d just lost his independence and his ability to do the thing he loved. The boy wasn’t only broken physically, but emotionally as well.

“I know.” Hoseok looked down at his leg. It was already casted, black as he’d requested. Perhaps he was feeling a little negative…

Yoongi sat down on the bed next to his injured boyfriend.

“It’s gonna be alright Hobi. I promise.”

Hoseok broke, crashing into Yoongi’s neck in tears.

“I hate this so much.” He sobbed, and Yoongi held him close, as he would have a child.

“I know you do. We’re gonna get through this together okay?”

Hoseok couldn’t answer, his breaths were too ragged and his voice too small.

Yoongi kissed his head, and kept holding him.

After a few minutes, Hoseok stopped crying, just allowing Yoongi to hold him. He wished he could wake up from this nightmare. He was living his worst fear. Not being able to dance… if he couldn’t dance, what was he supposed to do? Lie around and be helpless? Lose his position in the band? What if Yoongi got tired of him and just dumped him? What if-

“Hoseok! Hey, hey, easy. Easy.”

Hoseok came back to reality, realizing that he had just had a minor anxiety attack. Those seemed to be more common under the current circumstances. His breathing slowed, and he released his white-knuckled grip on Yoongi’s hoodie.

“There we go. Breathe.” Yoongi knew what anxiety could do to a person, so he was also good at soothing attacks.

“Better?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Hoseok had finally caught his breath.

“Alright. I’m gonna go pack our bag up, and then it’ll be time for the guys to come get us. By the way, did you call them?”

“Yeah. They’re getting me moved into your room.”

“That’s good. It’ll be easier for me to help you if you need it.” Yoongi knew that “if” was just for courtesy. From his research, he knew Hoseok wouldn’t even be able to pee without him holding him up.

Hoseok got a text from Jimin that they were at the front door. Yoongi called the nurse, and she came in and helped with getting Hoseok in the wheelchair. In no time, Hoseok was loaded into the van, and the boys were on their way home.

They arrived at the apartment, and immediately the maknaes went into “must help hyung” mode. They were sent to the kitchen to make some sort of healthy brunch while Yoongi helped Hoseok shower.

“Okay we can’t get this boot wet, so let’s just have you sit here and- “

“Oh no no no, Yoongi please let me keep this shred of dignity. I am not sitting in a shower chair.”

“Yes, you are. Baby, if you wanna get better faster, you gotta do what it takes to recover.”

“Fine, but I better get a lot of cuddling after this.”

“I swear on AGUST-D’s album cover, I will cuddle the daylights out of you Jung Hoseok. Now, let’s get these clothes off.”

Yoongi was gentle in taking off Hoseok’s clothes. Soon, he was in the shower, sitting in the chair, and allowing Yoongi to wash his feet and legs (as much as he could). He let Hoseok handle his upper half and privates.

Yoongi turned the water off, and handed Hoseok a towel to dry himself off with. Yoongi would have gladly done it for him, but he thought it would be better for Hoseok’s mental health to remain as independent as possible. He did have to help Hoseok get dressed and back in his wheelchair, but overall, the experience was pretty good for Hoseok. He came out of it smiling.

“There he is. Ready for brunch Hobi? The boys destroyed the kitchen, but they’re proud.” Namjoon laughed as another blast of flour came out the kitchen doorway.

“YAH! Do not throw ingredients that is not what they’re- JEON JUNGKOOK!”

“I sent Jin in there to help them… It seems to be going well…” He laughed, partially concerned for Jin’s mental stability at the moment.

“Ha, yeah let’s see how they did.” Yoongi wheeled Hoseok into the dining room, and into the spot the boys had already made for him.

A loud crash sounded from the kitchen.

“Oops…”

“Jimin. That was my special pot.”

“I can glue it!” Taehyung popped up out of nowhere with a glue gun.

“No! NO. You cannot use a glue gun on a… Ah shoot. Boys, just take brunch in there and I’ll sweep this up.”

The boys came in with several plates and bowls full of food.

“Bon appetite.” Jungkook smiled as he handed out clean plates and silverware.

“As you see here, we have blueberry muffins, chocolate chip pancakes, various fruits, toast, orange juice and milk. Anything else we can get for you?”

“Nah, guys you’ve done awesome. It’s nice to come home to good food, and all this support.” Hoseok smiled, and the entire maknae line practically crushed him in a hug.

“We’ve got you hyung. Don’t you worry.” Taehyung ruffled Hoseok’s thick, black hair.

“Thanks guys.”

“Alright, let’s leave these two for a bit. Yoongi, Hoseok, we thought you two would want to work out a routine, so I’ve got these guys coming with Jin and I to the store and to run a few other errands. We’ll be back after supper I believe.”

“Sounds good.” Hoseok started on the chocolate chip pancakes, relishing each bite he took.

The others left, and he and Yoongi were left by themselves.

“Well baby, we’ve got a lot to do today.”

Hoseok looked at him, confused.

“Yoongi, I can’t… I can’t do anything remember?”

“Oh yes you can. We are going upstairs to watch a movie because I promised you cuddles. Then, we’re gonna come down here after a nap and we’re gonna make pizza for supper. When the boys come back, we’re gonna hang with them, and then you and I are going to work on songs because I have the attention span of a squirrel when I have to work alone.”

“Yoongi, you and I both know that’s not true.”

“Okay well I still get lonely, so you’re coming with me.”

Hoseok smiled at Yoongi’s attempt to fill the time.

“Can um… can I ask a favor?”

“Anything baby.”

“Can we nap first? I’m honestly exhausted and I still feel sore from practicing so much.”

“Let’s do it babe.”

Hoseok smiled, and Yoongi wheeled him to the bedroom.

“Okay on the count of three. “One, two, three!”

Yoongi lifted Hoseok onto the bed, and then tucked him in, ensuring that his feet were covered up and warm as well.

Hoseok moaned in comfort.

“It feels so good to actually lie down and not feel bad about it.”

Yoongi slid into his “little spoon” position.

“What do you mean?”

“I used to feel guilty when I was resting too much. It was like I was neglecting my work.”

“Crap Hoseok, why didn’t you tell me you were so worried about that?”

“Because you and I both know I wouldn’t have stopped. Then, you’d have been worried and I’d have still gotten hurt.”

“Okay maybe you’re not wrong.” Yoongi knew Hoseok would have still worked himself that hard, but he did wish he could have helped.

“Yoongi?” Hoseok’s voice was already thick, he was falling asleep quickly.

“Hmmm?”

“If I need to, can I wake you up?”

“Of course, you can. Anything you need, I’ll take care of you okay? Just rest.”

Hoseok wrapped his arms around Yoongi and nodded before dozing off to sleep.

Yoongi woke up to Hoseok breathing quickly and gagging. He jerked awake, and immediately placed his hand on Hoseok’s back.

“Woah, woah, okay easy. I’m awake. You’re not alone. You’re safe.”

“Y-Yoongi?” Hoseok burst into tears and gagged again.

Yoongi did what he had always done when Hoseok was having anxiety attacks. He wrapped his arms around him securely, and grabbed his hands so he couldn’t dig his nails into his palms.

“I’ve got you.”

“C-can’t see.”

Yoongi looked at Hoseok, his eyes closed tightly.

“It’s alright baby. You’re feeling scared, but when you open your eyes, you’ll be able to see.

Hoseok shook in Yoongi’s arms. He opened his eyes, still breathing quickly.”

“Can see now…” Hoseok started to breathe more normally.

Yoongi thumbed over Hoseok’s clenched hands.

“Feel a little better now baby?”

“Yeah. I’m okay.” Hoseok was still shaking, but he seemed calmer than he had been before.

“What happened?” Yoongi kissed Hoseok’s hands.

“Nightmare.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Can’t.”

“Okay. That’s alright.” Yoongi just kept rubbing soothing motions over Hoseok’s hands.

“Would you l-leave me if… if I couldn’t… if I couldn’t dance anymore?” Hoseok felt his entire body freeze.

Yoongi’s eyes softened as he heard Hoseok’s question. That must have been the nightmare.

“Hoseok, I’m never leaving your side. Ever. You’re going to get better, but even if you didn’t, you are mine. I’m not losing you. I’d rather lose everything I have than lose you.”

Hoseok’s eyes glistened with a sheen of tears.

“And something else. Back before BigHit found me, I could barely support myself. I would write songs, and sell them just to make enough money to eat. Some days, I didn’t eat. And you know what?”

Hoseok was silent, but paying close attention.

“I’d do it all again if it meant I would be right here with you. Right now. I wouldn’t have chosen any other path. I can’t live without you Hoseok. You’re everything to me. So, no. No matter what happens, I would never leave you.”

Hoseok was again, in tears. Yoongi hugged him, and Hoseok melted into his embrace.

It was then that, even though things would be hard, Hoseok knew Yoongi would be there to support him through it all, and everything would be alright.

4 ½ months later…

“Jungkook, what was that?” Hoseok walked over to Jungkook, who had tried to get by with lazily going through a rather difficult part of the choreography.

“Sorry Hyung…” the maknae sighed, sorrier he’d been caught than anything.

“Okay, let’s go again. Five, six, seven, eight…”

The music blared, and Hoseok grinned as he led the choreography practice once again.

[hilunawrites]

25 Lessons on my 25th Birthday --Part 2

Thank you so much for all the love and reblogs of Part 1— ”25 Lessons on my 25th Birthday!” I’m glad my lessons could help some of you, and I hope you get as much out of Part 2 as the last. For these next ten, if one or more of the lessons resonate with you, please reblog and let me know which ones! You can find Part 1 here. Now let’s jump into it:

11.)    Don’t blindly accept rules and boundaries “set” by society.

Society has a lot to say about how we “should” live our lives: the “correct” path in life to follow and in what order, “good” career choices versus “poor” ones, “normal” relationship practices…the list goes on and on.

Each of us is on our own path in life. These societal rules and boundaries don’t take into consideration that we all start from different points, have different priorities and belief systems, and, frankly, don’t deserve to be limited to such an extent during our time here on Earth! If you want to have a baby first and go to school later, become an artist, or have a polyamorous relationship—YOU DO YOU. Your internal guiding system is infinitely more important. You are no less than those that choose to abide by societal expectations.

12.)    Don’t forget where you came from.

I know not everyone comes from a happy place or a happy family. Maybe you were over-the-moon ecstatic when you could finally get the hell out. My family and I have a strained relationship, and I’m happy to have some distance from them. My hometown on the other hand? I miss it desperately. When I left, a hole in me formed that won’t ever be completely healed.

Either way, whether you love or hate where you come from—it’s helped shape who you are today. You’ve learned invaluable lessons during your childhood and as a teenager about yourself, your beliefs, your likes/dislikes, and your passions. Where you come from has shaped you in huge and subtle ways, and you are here, exactly how you are in this present moment, because of your past. And with some reflection, you can learn a lot from that and continue on your way into the future.

13.)    Communicate.

A little obvious this one, but an indispensable lesson nonetheless. NEVER. STOP. COMMUNICATING. And I mean clear, direct, honest, and open communication. If you just say what you mean without beating around the bush or teetering towards passive-aggression, you will sustain solid relationships with others, based on mutual trust and respect.

Also, don’t expect anyone to be able to read your mind! This is one of the most unfair and egocentric things we expect from other people. No one else is in your head with you--don’t assume people will know why you feel a certain way or what you want/need them to do! Spell it out for them. For example, “I need you to show your love for me more, and this is how… ” So much hurt and frustration could be avoided if every human practiced effective communication.

14.)    Decorate your home.

I’ve noticed several times throughout my life that I never truly feel at home unless I decorate it. I would switch bedrooms as a kid or move to new apartments and postpone decorating my new space for months or even years! A big mistake. It was only after I finally put up my posters, pictures, quotes, cards, and art pieces from friends that I truly felt at HOME. I feel euphoric as I look around and take in MY space. It welcomes me, it welcomes others, and I feel like I’m claiming my little corner of the world, marking it as my own. In a way, it makes me feel a little powerful, being able to express myself however I wish in my home decorations.  

15.)    Don’t call them “guilty pleasures.”

We all have that one thing (or several things!) we think we “shouldn’t” enjoy—usually because it’s unpopular or criticized by the majority of people or our closest friends. As a way of fitting in, we deny ourselves the opportunity to indulge openly and unabashedly in our “guilty pleasures.” How sad is this? We’re only on this Earth for a limited amount of time, why not enjoy the things we enjoy? Don’t waste time worrying about what others will think of you listening to that One Direction album for the umpteenth time—relish every second you spend partaking in that activity! It will feel so much better than the alternative, trust me. Just take solace in the fact that everyone has pleasures that could be criticized by others—so let’s just like what we like and get off each other’s backs!

16.)    It’s okay to cut people off.

You are under no obligation to keep toxic people in your life. Whether these people are strangers, acquaintances, friends, or family—you have the right to fill your life with people who lift you up, not tear you down. Whether that means you set healthy boundaries with problematic people or drop them completely, be sure to make the right choice for YOU. The choice that makes YOU feel free and safe. Take care of yourself first, before you worry about how your choices affect others.  

And when it comes to family, you do not have to love someone simply because you share blood with them. Sometimes they honest to God do not deserve to have someone as spectacular as you in their life. Find your chosen family and lean into them. They will support you.

17.)    You don’t have to win every argument.

I have a terrible habit of trying to use logic in order to “win” every argument. I rationalize, I explain, I call out the other person on inconsistencies or hypocrisy. If I can destroy all the holes on their side, and sew mine up nice and pretty they won’t be able to deny that I’m right and they’re wrong. Then they’ll apologize and we’ll move on—right? Wrong.

In the end, “winning” doesn’t feel as good as I think it will. The other person is still upset, frustrated, and fed up with me. We move on, sure…but have we actually gained anything from our disagreement except more grief?

I’m trying my hardest to listen more and speak less when I’m having an argument. If we are all willing to self-reflect and validate the other’s feelings before jumping to the defensive, disagreements will be resolved more smoothly, quickly, and respectfully. This way we can move on without as many residual feelings of resentment.

18.)    Hug and cuddle people often. And animals too.

Of course this depends on whether you’re a touchy-feely person or comfortable with animals—which I am! It’s just science: hugging someone for even 20 seconds releases oxytocin, the “love hormone,” which can do wonders for your mental and physical health. I love hugging, cuddling, kissing, all of that. It helps my lungs open up, and I can breathe better. I feel safe—like the other person is a human wall of protection.

And I could never forget my dog, Dobby. He is so soft and cuddly, I sometimes can’t resist leaning over and giving him a big squeeze. He loves to lie with me, placing his head in my lap or over my legs and letting out a deep sigh. In those moments, I can hardly take his utter adorableness!

These physical touches make me feel closely connected with the people and animals around me, and these connections spark positive emotions of happiness, safety, love, and belonging. Who couldn’t use a little more of that in their everyday life?

19.)    Stand up for what’s right, even if you’re standing alone.

A scary thought right? Especially for those of us who don’t like the spotlight…

There are some things that I know are absolutely wrong (sexism, racism, homo/bi/transphobia etc.) and I am often placed in situations where I have a choice to make. Do I speak up and break the silence? Or do I let the inappropriate and unacceptable comment or action remain unchecked?

When I’m the only person who realizes what’s going on is wrong, it makes it that much harder to stand up for what’s right. I might be punished or retaliated against in some way, shape, or form. They may ignore me, criticize me for taking things too seriously or overreacting, or even ostracize me from a particular group or community.

I once worked at a place where people openly made racist comments and were willfully ignorant about their culturally appropriative actions. This was particularly concerning because my colleagues and I worked in close proximity with young children who were soaking everything up like a sponge. Long story short, I stood up for what was right, even though I was standing alone—none of my colleagues were willing to stand with me—and just a few miserable weeks later was forced to quit.

Now that sounds like a terrible story—why should we stand up if we’re just going to be shut down and punished for “speaking out of turn?” First, I planted a seed. Sometime down the line (even if it is years from now) my ex-coworkers will be forced to reflect on their teaching methods which will no doubt become outdated and unacceptable with time. Second, I got myself out of an environment I now know I couldn’t have worked in long-term.  And third, I’m able to share my story and continue encouraging others to also stand up for what’s right. It’ll take time, but one person standing up will lead to two, then ten, then 100, then 1000, until widespread change takes over the whole world.

 20.)    That being said, don’t be afraid to step back if you need to.

If you’re not emotionally able to handle a situation you’ve gotten yourself into, it’s more than okay to step back. If you remember from Part 1, you come first. ALWAYS. If you need to take a temporary or permanent break from something, do it. Just living, let alone fighting for equality or standing up to others, takes a lot of emotional strength and courage. Self-care is imperative to your success in all areas of your life, and sometimes the best thing you can do for you is to step back and take yourself out of a situation which has become toxic or spiraled out of control. No need to feel guilty. Be selfish. I’m serious. Everything else can take a back seat while you take care of yourself. Nothing is more important than your well-being.

**

I hope you enjoyed lessons 11-20 today! I’ll post my final 5 lessons on July 18th, my actual birthday (O_O). Again, if any of these lessons resonated with you, please reblog and let me know which ones! I look forward to reading your thoughts.

**

Those of you who enjoyed Part 1, I’m tagging you here: @alinakerrin, @theouterdark, @awkward-sappho, @atgit, @crucioandcoffee, @skullszeyes, @sarcastictinydancer, @ilike-art, @fangirling4mynicoandazriel, @macemason, @brookexautumn, @whitewolf756, @ducklingxkitten, @axel-writes, @neodesta

[dentalrecordsmusic]

DRM Unplugged: Exploring Musicians & Mental Health with Mike Bogs of Babe Patrol

In this guest blog series, Dental Records Music invites any and all alternative musicians to share their experiences with mental illness in order to shed light on the issues and hurdles they must face in order to create and perform. If you would like to read more and follow our series, check out this link. You can also check out PunkTalks.org for information on getting help and support if you are a musician who is struggling.

The following is a guest post by Mike Bogs, the guitarist for Babe Patrol. This is his story.

Most people will observe the “rockstar” lifestyle as being thrill-driven, so that any form of personal suffering is subsequently a direct consequence of living their life “on the edge.” However, in dispelling this warped delusion, this couldn’t be farther from the truth. Sometimes the actual truth is difficult to face, and mental health, especially, is not discussed honestly enough. Unfortunately, we exist in a reality in which we have lost many of our beloved musicians and artists to absolute measures of self-harm, such as substance abuse and suicide.

Creatives continuously suffer excess anxiety over the scrutiny from those who are verbally critical of their craft. Even more debilitating though, is the potential of self-doubt and how it takes a toll on these talented individuals’ personal worth. It is difficult to understand how something so negative can come from someone with such a positive impact on others. For a lot of people, unless you are actively engaging in creative activity as your main passion on a daily basis, it’s confusing to figure out how these self-endangering behaviors can fester within an individual. 

In working creatively there is a struggle of intense ambivalent emotions that occur. An artist can not create things that do not come from an emotional place without also feeling vulnerable. When you are emotionally invested in your work, it can leave you defenseless to a variety of mental strife that is created both from outside influences and internal doubt. During a thriving creative process, you enter a flow state, and enter into a manic-like state. Ideas can come from anything, creation can start with nothing at all, and this phenomenon can be extremely euphoric. This sets up a scenario, where the extremely low feelings will become an inevitability. As a musician and guitarist, I identify with this in enduring  my own struggles with bouts of depression resulting from the intensity of these emotions.   

Fortunately, my musical abilities have been invaluable to me in building confidence and have created a platform for me to form incredible relationships with other musicians and admirers alike. However, as is the nature with any passion driven project, these skills can also develop into a curse of sorts if you do not keep your mental health in check. For me personally, after my more immature years the fantasy of becoming a glorified rockstar seemingly became a delusion. At a certain point, a realization begins about the amount of sacrifice and effort one has to endure just to become a self-sustaining musician in today’s world. Most all artists will deal with countless instances of playing disappointing shows, releasing records that go undetected, and most debilitating of all, spending money without any prospect for a guaranteed financial return. After years of playing in many defunct and unsuccessful bands, I had moved away entirely from performing music for a brief period of my life.

It had driven me to stop participating in bands for a period of time to become a solo “bedroom musician”. In doing so, my new musical venture and goal was to pursue my passion for music by writing songs on my own. I worked vigorously in recording music on my computer while simultaneously educating myself about audio production and mixing in the hopes of releasing my own music. However, my biggest strife eventually became weighing the value of my work, as self-fulfilling projects can start to feel insignificant. One can really start to question if there is any point whatsoever in writing and releasing anything you’ve done before making it available to the masses. I soon developed a habit of denouncing my own songwriting by destroying more material than I was creating. It had gotten to the point where I was taking entire albums length of songs that I had recorded and permanently deleted those files from my desktop. Within them, I had everything mapped out precisely where I envisioned it and spent countless hours and sleepless nights figuring out how everything should be, all for a self-defeating act of eliminating it from existence entirely. By committing myself to an action that extreme and literally proceeding to destroy what I intended as my own personal “masterpiece”, so to speak, can be a tremendous blow to endure. Inevitably, actions like this have plagued me for years with ceaseless anxiety about my own self-worth and fallen into periodical depressive states from my inability to have something “show something for myself” in the form the music. 

The manners in which I’ve learned to cope with these disappointments spawned from further struggles when I had gotten back into playing in bands. Although I am a perfectionist to a certain degree, I play every show as if it was my last and thus free my mind from all outside concerns. I put great anticipation into putting on a great performance for everyone who will attend and hopefully try to give them a meaningful memory, or a brief moment of enjoyment at the very least by showing my energy when the power of music takes over. However. after every single set I play through, I suffer the post-show blues. After rehearsing for hours and then playing a show, I reach a feeling of elation on stage to the point of having quasi out of body experiences. This would be immediately concluded with self-defeating thoughts and feelings, I developed an aversion to accepting any praise from others. I used to deal with this either by drinking heavily or abandoning my mental participation to the fullest extent by dissociating myself from the event entirely. This ended up being an outright rude way to behave around people and at times became reckless and potentially self-endangering. 

It took me a while to realize that there was a clinical understanding of this phenomenon called Post-Performance Depression, PPD. After becoming more aware that this affliction is shared among all performers I developed a concern for others. So I started dealing with my own issues by supporting others with theirs and learned that having meaningful conversations was my saving grace. 

I proceeded to make it my mission at shows to try my best to get to know the other musicians there. Too often people put up the mantle of competition between their co-artists in a bout for the most attention, or appreciative claim. Conversely, for me, it became an opportunity to get to know the like-minded individuals who are fueled by their own suppressed passions. Coincidentally, I soon discovered from these talented individuals that they go through just about the same charades when dealing with their own personal material. Similarly to myself, they are uncertain, self-deprecating; especially to the songs that they internally hold so precious to themselves. After identifying and empathizing with others I would be comforted in knowing that I was not alone in the ways I felt. It was difficult for me to understand at times how someone else so talented can feel this way about themselves and hide their creations. So in realizing my own personal struggles I became most rewarded in working to inspire those around me and convince them that they needed to share their art with the world. 

I also think it’s important to realize that there are really only a few people out there that seemingly have the power to bring you down. It could be the internet trolls, who hide behind their illuminated veils with the sole intention of devaluing an artist’s work. Although, I think it is important not to fear criticism or suppress how you truly feel about something in a critique, the magnitude of malicious intent is what separates the predatory cyberbullies from the actively participating music critics. It may also be your peers, the ones that know you well and also don’t. Every artist implants a fantasy in their mind about what the big show might be like, the gratitude you possibly could receive from others if they share their enjoyment in your performance. Or the big release date, the day you finally reveal to everyone what you have been laboring on during your free time. It’s unavoidable to over analyze how your work may be interpreted. But it's so important to mature yourself in taming these fears and persisting to continue working and sharing what you love. 

Just as suppressing the severity of your mental state by not talking about what's affecting you to other people, I truly believe that concealing your musical talents and songwriting creations will have the same impact on your mental state. It’s contributed much to my own suffering but I have learned, that although coping with these fears can be unavoidable sometimes, it is important to speak honestly with people you trust and who will not judge you for how you are feeling. By concealing my music out of paranoia, I’ve done not only a disservice to myself, but more importantly and the hardest to realize, I’ve let down my supportive peers in the music community by not sharing. There is always someone out there awaiting something, new and original and they will find value you never realized that is within your own work. This prospect has become so important to me now in continuing on with my own artistic development. It has given me the determination to support those in the community that are not alone in this journey of discovering their self-worth. I truly encourage everyone to become more aware and help those that are suffering. Even the smallest actions can make all the difference in the world.

_______________________________________________________________________

Mike Bogs is the guitarist for punk band Babe Patrol. You can follow him and check out Babe Patrol’s music on Bandcamp, Spotify, and Apple Music. Be sure to follow the band on Facebook and Instagram as well to keep up on their travels. 

If you or someone you know is a musician and struggling with mental illness, check out PunkTalks.org.

Follow DRM on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.

[oneweekoneband]

Ninety One, “Mooz” (мұз), from Qarangy Zharyq, 2017

(Warning: flashing lights around two minutes in; also, some violence. Here’s the audio-only video.)

But, like, it’s still just a band: they were never actually protecting anybody or setting anyone free. (from a post by @whitehotharlots​)

To make a long story short: about five years ago I fell in love with a pop group. Like spending-hours-on-Tumblr-learning-all-the-in-jokes love. Like imagination-run-wild love. Like as-opposed-to-grief, as-opposed-to-despair love. But once the initial euphoria-through-learning-through-euphoria phase had run its course, the love was a static thing, directionless. One of the great pleasures of love is doing things for the beloved; but what, exactly, was I supposed to do?

The company, and the performers themselves, said: buy our albums! Stream our songs! Help us win awards at music shows! Come to our concerts! And I did those things; but trying to think of them as expressions of love left me feeling inadequate and a little sordid. Other options were to leave messages and hearts on their livestreams, and I occasionally did that too, using Google Translate to turn “I hope you’re doing well” and “Thank you for your hard work” into Korean, but thousands of other fans had the same idea, and the resulting rush of love felt impersonal, statistical. They, the performers, had no way to know who we, the fans, were; and furthermore any attempts on our part to make them know would be so forced as to violate the very spirit of love that had prompted the attempt in the first place. Each of us was speaking singularly and truly, but the sameness of our language, and the volume of our messages, flattened us out.

What can I do? I kept asking. Which is another way of saying How much power do I have?

We (who have the ability to get online) have a strange relationship to power, in this day and age. Entire books have been written about how people with ostensibly enviable amounts of power might not feel secure enough to actually accomplish anything. (The late Benazir Bhutto apparently once said: “I’m in office, but I’m not in power.” The quote came up in a discussion of Aung San Suu Kyi’s responsibility for stopping the ethnic cleansing of the Rohingya.) Meanwhile those of us with less formal titles are nevertheless capable of possibly destroying people’s reputations with a single Tweet, or perpetuating unjust systems simply by growing up in them. It feels like we have a great deal of power, wanted or not, to do harm; and seemingly much less power to do good.

That becomes even more pronounced in pop fandom. We want to believe, so badly, that we have the power to do good things for our faves, or at least make them feel loved and valued. But our attempts at exercising our power frequently add up to very little, at best. We also want to believe, so badly, that we can do good with pop music, support the virtuous and punish the wicked; but that, too, carries the risk of being much ado about nothing, or degenerating into a series of sniping wars where everyone’s fave is problematic and no one has any self-respect left.

That pop group I fell in love with wasn’t Ninety One, by the way. When I started writing about Ninety One I said cheerfully to friends: “Oh, I’m not, like, emotionally involved here. These guys are fun and cute but this is just a fun intellectual activity, a side way of getting at some of these questions I’ve had. I’m not crying or anything, thank goodness.” Please remind me I said this next time I try to give you a stock tip.

In my defense, I said it before “Mooz” came out, which is to say before I realized Ninety One was thinking about power and doing good too.

***

I haven’t seen the movie yet. Reportedly NTK, a channel with which Ninety One has struck some sort of deal, is promising to put it online at some point (most likely with Russian, but not English, subtitles). I assume bootlegs are traveling around YouTube. A lot of the footage in the “Mooz” video was already featured in the two-minute trailer uploaded to Ninety One’s YouTube channel in early August.

It’s the story of the first couple years of Ninety One, but not a documentary; rather, it’s a docudrama, with scenes acted out by the guys themselves months after the fact, but everything based on What Actually Happened--90% true, I’ve seen Kazakhstani Eaglez say. I’m not sure how great an idea it was, mental-health-wise, to have the members re-enact confrontations with would-be rioters during the 2016 tour, let alone whatever happened to prompt AZ to put a gun to his head. But even if I’m right (and I’m speaking with my own understandings of what happened and how it got processed, which could very well be way off the mark), something can be emotionally costly to create and still be worth it.

Without knowing about the 2016 tour, “Mooz” is hard to understand, since it’s not a typical believe-in-yourself song. It’s subdued. Ace has the chorus, but he sure isn’t belting. Bala has “I have a dream,” but he prefaces his lines with a little chuckle, as if he’s somewhat amused by all the twists and turns this star-in-a-pop-group idea has taken him on. AZ’s rap is pure lament. Alem at one point just flat-out stops lip-syncing and simply stares into the camera, looking devastated and unsure.

There’s a sense of uncertainty in the wake of damage done. Ace keeps singing, Мүмкін күн шыққанға дейін, бірге күте тұрамыз? The official English translation is “Let’s wait together until the sun rises.” The Russian lyrics, similarly, drop the question: Может вместе подождем, пока солнце не взойдет. “Maybe together we’ll wait until the sun rises.” (Says Google Translate.) But in the original Ace is asking a question: can we wait together until the sun rises? Is that even possible? And AZ continues: the whole world, in fact, we are strangers to each other? The members’ collective sense of their own ability to proceed forward--to do good--has been called into question.

Moreover I think the uncertainty stems not just from the experience of having had their concerts shut down, though that’s the most extreme (and audience-pleasing) culprit. The trailer actually begins with black-and-white footage of masses of Eaglez screaming at concerts. In the interview this summer the members say, no no we’re glad that we’re not The Band That Spawned a Thousand Thinkpieces right now, we don’t want to be regarded as just controversial attention-getters, we want fame on our own terms. All according to plan, Bala says in the song; but “the plan” calls for greater fame, and greater fame is going to mean less and less power, in terms of their ability to control their own images.

Here I am thinking of a video I’ve seen but won’t link to, of Ninety One at some kind of industry dinner at the beginning of the year. Alem sees the camera first, as he’s about to go into the dining hall, and he waves, throws a V sign, seems happy to have the attention. But the camera continues inside, and when ZaQ and Bala catch sight of it they’re clearly uncomfortable; they’re not looking to be public figures performing for fans right at that moment.

Thinking, also, of Rana Dasgupta’s recent essay, “Notes on a Suicide”:

The problem was that, for the most part, it did not matter how widely broadcast your discontent was: no one cared. The great majority of celebrities – in this new world where even nobodies were celebrities – were lacking in that basic attribute of the celebrity, which was fame. They were half-creatures – unfamous celebrities, anonymous superstars, VIPs like the entire rest of the world – and unlike their fully formed counterparts, the world did not gasp when they expressed their thoughts and feelings. Everything was lost, in fact, in the infinite cacophony….

In the world of social media, where everyone becomes a celebrity, they do not inherit merely the life force of stardom – its beauty, achievement and sex. What is transmitted also to these faceless ranks of superstars is the inner knowledge of death. For, as all true celebrities discover, the media image feeds parasitically on human energy, starving them and removing them, slowly, from the realm of the living.

Even setting translation issues aside, the odds that Boss Yerbolat and Ninety One read Desgupta’s essay before filming the video for “Mooz” seem pretty low. But seeing the brief manipulation of ZaQ’s face into that of an old man’s, I wonder if they haven’t had similar thoughts about what they have to lose, in staking their accomplishments on the awareness of strangers.

***

And yet, and yet, and yet.

They keep yelling Eaglez! It’s practically a trademark: Сәлем, Eaglez! Part of that may be marketing. Part of it. Not all of it.

There are a lot of directions they could have taken with “Mooz,” and didn’t. They could have chosen to laugh off or minimize the disruptions, reassure fans that nothing can touch their commitment to Ninety One. They could have refused to address the uncertainty altogether. They could have done more easily sellable songs about love and relationships, as they did on Aiyptama. They could have put out something more upbeat and generic.

Instead: Неге бəрі мұз? The English translator on duty has Ace’s line as “Why is everyone so cold?” But мұз actually means ice. A better translation might be “Why is everyone frozen?” To continue the metaphor from “Su Asty,” and spell it out: even with gills, you can’t breathe in frozen water.

Ace says, can we wait together? AZ says, and why am I still hugging my knees? Alem says, I don’t know who is who, but my heart continues to believe. ZaQ says, Either their judgment will crush me, or I will pass by not noticing them. Bala says, I will not give up so fast. To me it adds up to, continuing on in the face of profound uncertainty. That they don’t know exactly how to love Eaglez back en masse but they’re going to keep trying. That they can’t be sure this will all work out to their benefit, but it’s still worth doing.

And then, for the first time in their discography, they switch to English:

When you feel alone You can breathe with the world Just keep our rhythm One love, one rhythm

And because now is not the moment for subtlety, Ace looks at the camera for the first time, and Bala makes a heart gesture record-setting in its sincerity.

It’s grandiose. Of course it is. It’s a grandiose idea to begin with, to say, This was my experience, and I think you had an experience like it, and here’s what I want to tell you, this helped me, I think it will help you too. It’s grandiose to think you can talk about the meaning of true happiness in a pop song. It’s grandiose to talk about love and one rhythm to millions of people you’ll never meet.

It is grandiose, in truth, to assume you deserve enough power to be able to do good.

***

There have been times, putting this week together, that I’ve wondered if it hasn’t been a gigantic waste of time, or worse. Quite a lot of time flew away while I happily wrote, and then I looked up and the doubts crowded in. Everything from Are you sure this is worth taking time away from your kids for? to It’s just a pop group, after all to You’re just flattering yourself into thinking your consumption choices are somehow “deep” or “ethical” to Who gave an ignorant American woman first dibs on writing about a Kazakhstani pop group anyway? to Even if you do somehow succeed in getting Ninety One more publicity, that’s not necessarily going to make them more comfortable or happier to All this time, and no one’s going to read it, and meanwhile you still haven’t washed the dishes.

You have to understand: I come from city planning. As a discipline we’re swamped with two things: people who enter with the fervent, heartmost desire to do good, and examples of the road to hell being paved with good intentions. And as a general rule of thumb, the bigger the intention, the less predictable and controllable the consequences.

I think Ninety One want to be famous with their work, the way most people who like to create original works (myself included) do. I think they want the power of visibility for themselves, their genre, and their country; more specifically to beat back the powerlessness that comes with invisibility. And I think they want to do good. “Mooz” feels like an acknowledgment that none of this is simple, that the power to do good is hard to get and harder to use; and a resulting combination of resolution and humility. The desire to reach out, still; to use their song to speak; but their promise is small. When you feel alone, not “you are not alone,” not a promise of connection they can’t deliver on; but, you can breathe with the world. That’s all. Just breathe. Such a small thing.

What was the superpower ZaQ and AZ boasted about in “Su Asty”? We have gills, remember? Simply breathing underwater. Breathing.

That’s it? Ace asks. That’s it, Bala says.

Why did I even start getting so obsessively into pop music and its stories in the first place? To feel less alone. And then to marvel at the idea that people on the other side of the world, speaking other languages, coming from experiences fully foreign to mine, were willing to offer enough of themselves to cameras that I could, in fact, feel less alone; even if there was absolutely no way of my being able to do half as much for them in return.

As best I know Ninety One hasn’t seen this. I don’t know how to show it to them--I don’t even know what would be the best platform for jumping up and down and yelling HEY GUYS LOOK WHAT I WROTE AND IT’S ALL ABOUT YOOOOUUUUUU, leaving aside any issues about queue-jumping in front of other Eaglez who put time and energy into their own presents. I don’t know how to tell them that I find them lovable and inspiring, or that thanks to them I’ve had a great deal of fun learning about Kazakhstan and Kazakhstani music. I don’t know how to say thank you--рақмет сізге, or maybe Спасибо--loud enough for them to hear it; and even if I did, there’s no good reason why I should be the one who gets heard and not some other fan.

But it’s still worth doing.

introductory post / all Ninety One posts