So the way this happened will sound weird but, I was watching a recording of Doctor Who At The Proms. Yes, Doctor Who, I love it, deal with it lol. 😛 Anyway it was a concert that they did in the U.K. last year and it was orchestral music from the show played by a symphony orchestra. Stringed instruments have always touched me on a very deep level and the moment I hear an orchestra my ears tune right into the stringed instruments. Well, I was watching this concert and something hit me rather painfully. I’ve lost my music. I’ll explain it.
Some time ago, my therapist and I were talking about alternative coping techniques or things that I could do when I felt the need to release tension or to just do something with my energy or anxiety etc. She asked me if I played an instrument and whenever someone asks me that I get sad and wistful because when I was little, in elementary school I played the viola. I loved it! I mean I really loved it. It felt like I was meant to play that instrument, at least that’s how I felt as a kid. I had never had music lessons or been introduced to instruments before then. My school had music class of course and that’s when I first held a viola and our teacher taught us to play classical music. I loved the viola because it wasn’t a violin. Everyone knows a violin but not everyone had heard of a viola (at least in my group of acquaintances). It wasn’t as delicate as a violin either, and I found it fascinating and new. I loved putting rosin on my bow, I loved the wood, I loved using my pitch pipe, I loved feeling the tension of the strings, I loved the look and feel of the bow and I loved the sound that came from that instrument. Just writing this makes me want to cry for some reason. Anyway, I only got to play the viola that one school year because of my mother who was physically abusive and liked to leave me home at night in the dark while she went out. Every year, every, single, stinking year, my mother would put me in a different elementary school. Every year. I have class pictures and every one of them is taken in a different school each year, you can see the school names on the signs in each picture. I don’t know why she did that. What’s amazing is that we lived in a city that wasn’t all that big but somehow she managed to find a new school each year. I never got to play the viola again, I had to give it back to the school because you’re only borrowing it during the year. It’s funny because even though my mom put me in a different school each year, I remember that at one point, my tests scores made someone approach my mother because they wanted to put me in the gifted and talented school. She said no. I never found out why. I remember being so excited that I would get to have a neat experience in a special school and that someone thought I was smart, and then poof, she wouldn’t let me. Why was putting me in and out of schools alright but letting me go to the gifted school was not alright? Anyway I digress.
Watching that orchestra tonight, hurt, I mean it really hurt. I watched the violins, the cellos, the violas. I saw the wood and the strings, every move they made and I wanted to cry. I did not realize until tonight that losing that viola really hurt me. Is that pathetic? Weird? Am I being silly? Seriously, tell me. I wasn’t a virtuoso or a genius with that instrument, I just loved playing it. I feel like my mom taking me from school to school to school to school, took something away from me. I had a taste of something and I wasn’t allowed to keep it or see where it went. Maybe I would have sucked at it, maybe I would have gotten bored, but right now I don’t care. I want my viola.