Overload

I’m just left of center in a six train car heading uptown that’s crowded enough that the bodies around me are keeping me more upright more than squeezing on to a handrail ever could. I’m wearing my headphones- some early 90’s relics I found buried in a backpack pocket that hadn’t been cleaned out in a few too many years. I have the music turned up loud. Loud enough that I can’t hear the words of the people around me even as I watch their lips move. Loud enough that it’s all I have to think about.

I close my eyes. Confident in the fact that I’m six subway stops from home. The train rocks back and forth beneath my feet. Not quite gently, but in a way that still feels soothing.

There isn’t much music I have saved on my phone. This whole commuting-by-public-transit-in-a-major-city thing is kind of new to me. A couple Regina Spektor songs. Some mix cd’s I made for myself and a few more sent to me by friends. Every single Laura Marling song, and of course—of course—The Wombats. I’ve written a time or five about my love affair with their song ‘Let’s Dance to Joy Division’ but it bears repeating—that songs means so much to me. I could listen to it forever (or you know, on repeat for literally weeks at a time…) and never get tired of it.

I’ve got the kind of anxiety where going places can be so overwhelming that I just stop doing anything together. The people, the crowds, the noise—I get a sensory overload and break down. So I’ve been doing a horrible job of exploring New York. A terrible job, really. I know that there is so much to see and discover in this city—and I haven’t really taken advantage of much of it at all.

So this week I did something big.

I bought a concert ticket. Well, I bought two, actually. But even if I can’t find a friend to go with me I’m going to see The Wombats play in January. I’m going to head to Brooklyn on a Monday night, and brave the crowds and the noise. I’m going to scream along to ‘Let’s Dance to Joy Division’ when they play it live. I’m going to let myself feel all of my emotions in that moment. The love, the fear, the pure adrenaline.

It might not seem like much. It’s something people do all the time. But I’m scared. And I’m excited. 

And I’m so happy.