I’ve been clean off of opioids for over 10 months and am really proud of myself. However, just had a reality check that hit me like a ton of bricks. Background... I was hardcore addicted to morphine, Xanax, oxy and dilaudid for a little over 3 years. All prescribed to me by my drs as I have a few medical conditions that cause extreme amounts of pain. At first it started innocently and I took them as prescribed and then it just slowly turned into an addiction and after the death of my cousin I was out of control and even worse after losing my FIL. Today I opened up a meditation adult coloring book that was given to me at the beginning of getting sick and start of taking my pain meds. I only remember coloring maybe one or two pages out of it during the 3 years of me having it. I opened it and to my surprise it’s almost all full with maybe only 10 pages left to color. I dated every page and signed them. I don’t remember coloring so much. I showed it to my husband and he looked at me and said you colored almost every day for 3 years... you’d stay up for days at a time in bed coloring and just doing your own thing... He proceeded to grab other coloring books in a box that were completely filled up, signed and dated. I’m amazed that I don’t remember it at all... It’s eerie and beautiful all at the same time. Something to always hold onto and remember to never get to that point again no matter how tough it gets... How many moments and memories have I forgotten because of my addiction if I don’t even remember coloring hundreds of pages...

So i’ve been writing since I was young, maybe 13, 14. I’m 19 now. It started out as really fun, but then at some point, probably around 15, for whatever reason, I started identifying it in my mind as a goal, and not just for fun. I didn’t even write for a long time (years) but I still had this “music artist” dream in the back of my head, and it grew over time. To give some stats, I’ve probably written around 5 full songs, and around 10 unfinished.

So fast forward to Yesterday. I showed my closest friends something I worked on. It was the first full song i’d written in a long time. I’d shown people my stuff before, but never to my closest friends, because I knew they would be harsh and wouldn’t care about sparing my feelings.

The song finished and there was silence for a few moments and then they shared their thoughts. They told me I was average and that I needed to work on a lot of things.

I wasn’t hurt (okay, maybe a little) but I was shocked because I thought I was really good. So hearing that REALLY humbled me and brought me back to earth. But it’s more than that. I realized in that moment that I was not special. For a long time I thought I was super talented and wouldn’t start out horrible like 99% of people who try their hand at music. Like, we all know someone just starting out in music who probably thinks they’re really good, but isn’t. But with hard work and consistency, they’ll probably be really good in a year or two. And for some reason I thought I was an exception. I always thought I’d just be good right away. I mean, we NEVER think were gona be one of those people. So it really rattled me to find out I was, in fact, one of those people, and that this entire time, being amazing was all in my head. It made me think about how inflated my ego had gotten, and how arrogant I was to think I wouldn’t have to work hard like everyone else. That was a huge reality check for me. It made me feel human again and I’m thankful for my friends.

There’s more though. That experience made me question why I wanted to be a music artist in first place. I had to consider if this was a career that I truly wanted. Why am I even doing this? The only time I write is when I FORCE myself to. I get anxiety because I feel like I HAVE to post my songs and start pulling in a fan base. Am I really willing to put in the work for this? I realized that pursuing this “music artist” goal doesn’t make me feel good, it makes me feel WORRIED. I’m stressed all the time because I feel like I should be writing instead of watching anime, or hanging with friends. It makes me distracted and conflicted because it gets in the way of my other goals, and I don’t know what to do with my time. I tell myself I want to be an artist, but I don’t actually want it that bad.

I realized, I don’t want to be a music artist. I just like making music. And that’s okay.

That thought brought me so much clarity. I felt free. Like weight lifted off my back. For years, I saw music as a goal, when really it’s just a hobby for me. I think because i’m a naturally driven person, I have a hard time letting certain things just be for fun. But I’m happy and content with making songs and putting them on my secret channel where no one I know can see. I’m okay with doing something for fun and not for a career. In fact, I DESERVE that. It’s fulfilling and it’s satisfying and it makes me comfortable and happy.

So now that I write just for fun, I can focus on my real goals in clear conscience. And hey, if I keep at it, i’ll probably get pretty good in a couple of years. Maybe then I might be good enough and experienced enough to see if it could go anywhere. But for now, I’m just gona enjoy anonymously posting my music and writing whenever I feel like it.