Purging. I remember teaching my body that fine art in high school when I wanted to drop a few pounds off of my 113 pound frame. The strange satisfaction it gave me, the feeling of being in control of something, the emotional release it gave me. Liking the feeling, and getting more proficient at it. In a twisted way, like in a parallel universe to what is my world today, realizing, like yoga or meditation or exercise today, that the mental effect became the drive opposed to the physical effects.

Then other times purging happens, unintentionally, in response to something we ingest. Something we put inside ourselves that forces us to vomit everything inside in order to cleanse us. Like today.

Before today I didn't know who Blue October was. I had never heard any of their music. I had never listened to the song that happened today.

I have never had such an intense immediate reaction to a song the first time I heard it. Last night was a night from hell. I worked on 61, med/surg, not my area, not my preference, not a good night for someone who does like it. I had 3 TB patients, a colostomy to burp, a patient who hated me, a patient in restraints, and vomit to clean up. And I was three hours behind on everything up until 3 am, 8 hours into my shift. Enough said. Bad night. But about 10 pm, I hear my name down the hallway. I hear, 'Baaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrbbbbb!!!!!' and recognize Heather's voice. I haven't seen her in a couple weeks. Its amazing how a friend can suddenly bring you above it all. We took a break, talked, and before long a bunch of us decided we were going to visit the Brass Rail after work.

I drove to work last night, so had the car, but she insisted on driving me to the Rail and then taking me back to get my car. For the sole purpose of showing me some songs on the way. So we're driving, I have to stop at the bank, Heather isn't sure where to turn - its not her part of town, and so it goes. She puts in a cd, Blue October. "Listen to this - its my song to Mark" - her newly estranged husband whose moving out on Saturday.

I'm physically exhausted, worked all night, its the week where all is good, I'm centered, not the week when I'm coming undone, when the world is grey and cold and angry. The week I cry. Its is in fact the week where my inside finally implodes against all the building pressure and all that psychotic hormonal energy bleeds out of me. There has been nothing but good energy this week, everything is coming together, good things are happening.

Heather is driving. The song comes on. There is something about the guy's voice that gets to me. Some kind of on the edge element that can't be faked. Every word is like a knife. Over and over again. Suddenly I can't fight the urge any more and my eyes fill up. I get that asthmatic-painful throat thing that happens when you try not to cry cause you don't want anyone to see you. Finally I say fuck it, and just let them roll down my cheek, turn my head, look out the window, hoping she won't see me. Hoping she'll just drive. But knowing that its Heather, and its ok. She is safe. I don't even understand my reaction. What the hell? Who is it that the song is pointing to in my head? What relationship of mine am I reminded of? Who is surfacing? All I know is that I feel this ripping inside. Knowing I can relate to every word. But to who?
I sit back, give in, and just feel.

She is changing lanes, driving against the sun, looking for the right street. Morning rush hour in Phoenix. Goal being the bar. Goal being to decompress with a few drinks, with a few friends. "Is this where I turn?". She glances over, and I hear an small gasp, then "Oh my god.........." , and I know she has seen me. I look at her once, then look down. And wipe my eyes just so they can fill up again. Its pointles now to try and stop it or fake it.

It gets really quiet, except for the music. We listen to the words. We are both purging, and we know it. Its just foreign to do it together. Its usually a very private thing.

I get home. Sleep some. Get up. The song is still playing in my head. I mentioned to Royce before I went to sleep, but he didn't know who they were. I want to show him the song. I find it online. MTV. I watch the video. The same thing happens again. I'm sitting there sobbing. He comes and sits by me. He's heard it before. "Why am I crying?" I ask.

You know how sometime it takes a few times to watch a movie before you get it? I watch the video the first time. The song that I've only heard one time. It starts with the playing of a phone call. Kind of in the background. An unidentified eerie sentimental feeling is under the surface. The words instruct her, the person being sung to, to hate him. He's haunted by someone who he can't love the way they want him to love them, he's separating himself, he's not apologetic, but wanting her to hate him because he can only be who he is, and decides its easier for her to hate. He wants free of her. Not because he hates her, but because he can't be what she needs him to be. It shows his wife with a baby, then scenes with the child older. Then with him. It ends with a goodbye, with a cemetery. With a death. With regret.

Again I'm sobbing. Uncontrollably at my computer. What is it? Who is it? Who am I feeling this about? Who does every word fit for? Why does it rip me? Why does it even hurt at all? Mike? Kirk? William? Even Royce maybe? There may be bits and pieces that fit each one of those, but its different. Its not them. I try in my head to make it be one of them. But its not. Kirk really hurt me, but its not him, its just not. It just doesn't make sense. I'm sitting here watching this story, listening to these words, and I'm ripping apart, and I can't even figure out who its about. None of my intimate relationships were like that. Who is the girl he is leaving? Who is she in my head? Why is he ending the relationship? Who am I singing to? Why am I relating to this?

I'm lost. Drained and lost. I look over at Royce on the couch. "I don't get it.
Why am I crying?" I decide to play it again. And this time, I see a whole different video. Things I didn't see the first time. The words mean something different this time. And it all starts making sense. I sit there almost in disbelief. It all makes sense now. And I keep crying. The voice on the phone. The little boys room. The empty house. The pictures on the wall. The child that gets older. I say I want truth in my life. And here it is, like bleach in a wound. The woman is not his girlfriend. Not his wife he has grown apart from.

I'm not singing to a lover.

I'm not singing to a past relationship.

I'm singing to my mom.

Its my mom. And every word is harsh, and true, and deadly, and beautiful, and debriding, and festering, and freeing.

I listen to it over and over. The first verse more about my mom. The harsh parts about my mom. The second verse so painfully about my dad. The gentle, unconditional parts are my dad. Some parts are both mom and dad.

Its not my past loves and broken hearts, its my parents.

Here are the lyrics:
Hey Justin this is your mother, I was just calling to see how you were doin,
you sounded really uptight last night it made me a little nervous.
I just wanted to make sure that you were really ok and wanted to see
if you were checked in on your medications.
You know I love ya, see ya, bye bye.

I have to block out thoughts of you so I don’t lose my head
They crawl in like a cockroach leaving babies in my bed
Dropping little reels of tape to remind me that I’m alone
Playing movies in my head that make a porno feel like home
There's a burning in my pride, a nervous bleeding in my brain
An ounce of peace is all I want for you. will you never call again?
And will you never say that you love me just to put it in my face?
And will you never try to reach me? it is I that wanted space

Hate me today
Hate me tomorrow
Hate me for all the things I didn’t do for you

Hate me today
Hate me tomorrow
Hate me so you can finally see what’s good for you

I’m sober now for 3 whole months it’s one accomplishment that you helped me with
The one thing that always tore us apart is the one thing I won’t touch again
And in a sick way I want to thank you for holding my head up late at night
While I was busy waging wars with myself, you were trying to stop the fight
You never doubted my warped opinions on things like suicidal hate
You made me compliment myself when it was way too hard to take
So I’ll drive so fucking far away that I never cross your mind
And do whatever it takes in your heart to leave me behind

Hate me today
Hate me tomorrow
Hate me for all the things I didn’t do for you

Hate me in ways
Yeah ways hard to swallow
Hate me so you can finally see what’s good for you

And with a sad heart I say bye to you and wave
Kicking shadows on the street for every mistake that I had made
And like a baby boy I never was a man
Until I saw your blue eyes cry and I held your face in my hand
And then fell down yelling “make it go away!”
Just make her smile come back and shine just like it used to be
And then she whispered “how can you do this to me?”

Hate me today
Hate me tomorrow
Hate me for all the things I didn’t do for you
Hate me in ways
Yeah ways hard to swallow
Hate me so you can finally see what’s good for you


Here is the video, click on "Hate Me":
http://www.mtv.com/search/index.jhtml?searchterm=BLUE+OCTOBER&searchtype=videos

So I’ll drive so fucking far away that I never cross your mind
And do whatever it takes in your heart to leave me behind


We're moving to Prescott. I'm driving so fucking far away that I never cross her mind.

All of the piano lessons. All the private school. All the christian beliefs my dad tried to teach me, all the values he lived by example. All the long hours they both worked to make sure I had everything. The second chance at life they gave me, and what I've done with it. What they hoped so badly I would accomplish, my music, and the decisions I made despite everything they did to prevent them. My beliefs now. Me.

All the things I didn't do for you.

Me.

All I ever wanted was for my mom to like me. Not love me, but like me. To once in a while be happy for me. To maybe be just a little bit proud of the good things I HAVE done.

And so I'm driving so fucking far away that I never cross her mind.

Gonna go hug my babies. We will be good in a new place.