But first, let's talk about OK Computer. Oddly enough, another popular topic for this blog.
I was about 19 years old when I got myself a used CD copy of Radiohead's heralded 1997 art rock classic OK Computer. This was during my sole semester as an acting major at the College of Southern Idaho, in the fall of 2009. I actually love and appreciate this album way more now than I did back then. I find it undeniably futuristic and influential. Sure, I liked it back then, but for different reasons. I mostly related to its discomforting themes.
Instead of reviewing this whole album, we're gonna talk about 1 song. "Fitter Happier." Not so much a "song" as it is a computerized voice reading off the society-approved descriptions of a perfect person, as broken classical music plays in the background. This track alone deserves a novella-sized review, but there's literally just 1 line I want to talk about today...
"A good memory."
So yeah, if you want a long list of stereotypical traits "the perfect person" may have, maintaining a good, strong memory of what you've done in the past and things you've learned before should be mentioned. No real reason to dive into this. Unless you're Scott E Hall at age 19. And you absolutely 100% misinterpreted this simple line into something more specifically personal and pertinent in your life.
I write about depression and anxiety a lot. And I'm doing it again today.
It's crazy how quickly you can lose grasp of your mental and spiritual stability. To just get utterly destroyed. Junior college very quickly whipped me into a state of frustration and confusion I had never experienced before. 2009 had been a beautiful year for me, up until that point. But I was doing what I wanted to do with my life. I was acting, I was starting a college education off scholarship money, and more importantly, I even had plenty of friends living in town. Yet acting didn't feel the same. Being with friends didn't feel the same. Pretty much everything (even in my alone time) didn't feel as good or normal as the previous months of my life. This is called anhedonia, by the way.
It was hard for me to tell if the memories of my recent life were even real. They were good memories that came with strong feelings. And these events even happened recently in my life. Yet they suddenly felt so very distant. And even unreal. To this day, I try to explain this to people and I don't think I can fully explain it in a way y'all can understand. Anyways, I had something itching the back of my mind throughout this semester. During every social event, or any potential spiritual experience, or moment of learning something new, I always thought in the back of my mind: When I look back on this, will this be a good memory?
I guess this thought that makes total sense on paper, but in practice, it was one of many thoughts preventing me from living in the moment. Because I had valued all the memories I made in my later teen years. But during those good times, this thought was never on my mind during any of it. Now here I am approaching age 19 and my inevitable Mormon mission, and I was quietly losing my goddamn mind. Probably a bad time to get into OK Computer, but that was my newest purchase. And when I heard them talking about "a good memory," I really thought they were talking about making (or being part of) moments that will be looked back on as good memories in your future. It's a thought process that would go on to haunt me for 3 more years.
Sidenote: Notice I was already experiencing negative thoughts without the influence of these songs in the first place. Nirvana-hating boomers, take note.
So why am I writing about this interesting (albeit random) lyrical misinterpretation as a 32 year-old man in 2023? I've realized this is a problem I still have today. It's just taken a very different form. All my favorite memories are from years ago. Age 17 and 18 are probably still my favorites, as those were my last days without anxiety and depression struggles. But I can list off other really good years from my college life. Problem is, I graduated from college over 6 years ago. I had a similar crisis post-college as I did when I started junior college. I lived with my parents for months and was usually unemployed, scared stiff of making any life choices whatsoever. And I would go on to spend much of the following 5 years on medications that weren't a reasonable fit for me.
I think my 2 most immediate struggles these days are loneliness and daily dread. And yet, I really like spending time alone and I'm too scared to change my current work situation. Sometimes, the best feelings I get all day come from memories.
Much like myself at age 19, it's hard to believe the good times ever happened. When I talk to people about who I am, I can only talk about things I've done in the past, because there is no present worth discussing. When I talk to people about my hobbies and interests and accomplishments, I feel like I'm lying to them. Or that they don't believe me. Either way, I have 0 internal validation of how accurately I view my past, particularly when I look back on something fondly. Is it possible that I can get older and go back to living in times that will make for good memories? Feeling a mental and emotional sense of stability that will keep me living in the moment?
I'm calling 50/50 yay or nay.
Honestly, I realize I just punched you guys with some of my most unhealthy mindsets, both past and present. I figured this was all worth mentioning because I often consider these things when I think about music. I often try to go back to music I used to love. It used to be like a spiritual experience. Like these songs would engulf my body as I listened to them, or even simply had them stuck in my head. I still love music today, but I long for the ways it used to make me feel.
And speaking of music... OK Computer! I actually never listened to that album much during my Utah State University days because it brought back bad memories of me being 19. But I've gotten over that. Now? I have a hard time revisiting most music I got into from most of the last 6 years. That sounds bad, but I'm sure I'll come back around to those songs in time. Meanwhile, I always switch up my rotation with new songs, and also go back to those old soundtracks to good memories.
While most of my blog posts about mental health end with a generic way of saying "things are getting better these days," I actually don't want to say that this time because I'm afraid I'll just jinx it. I'll instead leave with another "Fitter Happier" lyric...
"No longer empty and frantic, like a cat tied to a stick that's driven into frozen winter shit."
That imagery is just as depressing as it is cartoonish, but there. We can only hope that we no longer feel empty and frantic. We can't force ourselves to not feel insanely bad, nor tell other people to stop feeling that way. We can only let other people know when we are feeling this way, and hopefully they give you a hug or something. Which sounds like a good memory.
