In some ways, I can barely remember what life was like before I joined Mute Prophet. Three albums, international radio play, touring – such incredible things have happened in the last six years, it almost feels like a completely different existence.
It’s been like a rebirth. But it hasn’t always been easy – and I feel it’s necessary to do what isn’t usually done, and share these stories with you.
The thing is…joining this band actually saved my life.
Imagine being so emotionally numb, so unable to feel, that part of you doubts you’re real at all. You feel like a ghost.
Your perception of yourself and the world around you is so dulled, you’d swear your day-to-day life is a dream that you won’t be able to remember upon waking.
You aren’t you, you’re just a disembodied spirit observing someone who happens to look like you.
That describes something I spent years struggling with – a very rare mental disorder called Depersonalization. Your brain chemistry gets screwed up and you stop being able to feel your emotions at all.
I first noticed this occurring when I was in the hospital, recovering after an incident where I was beaten half-to-death, raped, and left for dead.
Even after all my injuries had healed and I was cleared to go home, I couldn’t feel. Everything felt fake, like a very convincing dream.
It left me in a really dark place. I drank heavily, I abused drugs, I cut myself for the endorphin high (cliche, I know, but it worked for a little while), and I fantasized almost hourly about swallowing my entire medicine cabinet. I wasn’t even sad – I couldn’t feel anything at all, and that was worse.
Kevin had been my best friend for years, and after I finally opened up about how badly I was doing, he told me all about how playing guitar helped him and Chris with their depression, and he suggested I try singing with them.
It actually did help! And he and Chris liked my voice so much, they insisted right then that I officially join the band ❤️
They wanted to start adding vocals to their old instrumental recordings right away…even before we had the proper setup to record vocals…
So we broke the doors off my closet, stood them up by taping an old microwave to the outside, filled the closet with clothes, and glued heavy blankets to the insides of the doors. Here’s a picture of it, featuring Kevin back when he had skinny arms and short hair!
None of us had the money for a more professional setup at the time (which makes me SO grateful for the pro studio we have now), but I honestly cherish the memory of making due with what we had. We would stop at nothing to make music, least of which would be less than ideal equipment.
The more I sang, the more I could FEEL again.
Singing opera actually uses the same part of the voice as crying, and it felt similar enough that I could process my sadness. And all the screaming and growling helped a lot with the anger and resentment.
It’s an amazing thing, a sort of glue that binds Mute Prophet together despite our separate life experiences, this goal of turning tragedy and pain into something triumphant. This band gave me an outlet to transmute things I would otherwise never have been able to overcome, into something amazing.
I’m not just me of course, we’ve all had our struggles – Chris was homeless and lived on the streets, Kevin and Louisa nearly died from autoimmune diseases that got out of control – and all of us credit this band for helping us through our hard times.
And we’ve even been able to find an audience – including YOU. Musicians have no other way to judge their impact on the world, other than how listeners receive their music and their story.
You show all of us that we aren’t alone, and after everything that’s happened, I don’t think words can convey how much it means to be able to connect with people like you now.
So please, leave a comment below or email me and let me know how you feel about this post, or even just to say hi. It would mean a lot.
Thank you again for reading, and please do leave a comment below or shoot me an email if you feel like saying hi ❤️