But when you share your pain for public consumption,
You’ll set their dinner plates,
And smile ’til they’re done.
Give them their knives and forks,
While you’re rare and bleeding tons,
And while they eat your soul,
They’ll call you an inspiration.
Jetty Bones, “Public Consumption”
Ohio-based musician Kelsie Galluzzo performs under the moniker Jetty Bones and is one of my favorite musicians. She sings about personal issues that resonate quite a bit with me. She is open and honest about her struggles with mental health, and many of her songs focus on the humanity of being someone with a mental health condition.
Jetty Bones recently release an incredible group of songs she called the “Pandemos” and is titled “Songs I Wrote Instead of Killing Myself”. It is raw. It is painful. It is beautiful. It is a work of art.
‘A Nice Place’ is my favorite track on the 28-song album. Kelsie knew that a lot of the subject matter in her songs can be difficult to deal with, and so she included some trigger warnings and posted the lyrics for all to be able to read. These are helpful, because there are some really sad songs, including ‘A Nice Place’.
I’ve written before about my struggles with suicidal ideation. You can read that post here. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder in something like the 10th grade. My mother saved my life by getting me in to a psychiatrist and getting me medicated. Her main reasoning was that she did not want me to get addicted to the manic highs and all the related effects that come with mania. But it is my firm belief that I would have died in my 20s if I had never been medicated. So when I first hear ‘A Nice Place’, I was floored by its honesty and how much I related to it. The lyrics focus on the point of view of a performer, something that I can’t exactly understand, but there are certain lines that stood out to me in terms of how I felt when I tried to kill myself.
The lights start to dim and the crowd is dispersing –
This kind of life makes you less than a person
Jetty Bones, “A Nice Place”
When I was in the throes of depression, the overwhelming feelings of uselessness and inferiority were crushing. I genuinely thought the world would be better off without my presence. I know now that is not the case. But in the moment, when I was not thinking clearly, my brain told me that I (and all of my friends, families, and acquaintances) was better off dead. It is a cancerous, terrible feeling, and it can metastasize and fill your waking existence. It is like your mind is trapped in a room with no light, and there’s no way to turn back on the light.
I think music has a way of healing us – not only does it help us understand the world around us, it offers us a way to explore the ways we deal with our own emotions. Artists can share their emotions around themes, events, people, and more, and listeners can interpret those emotions as they understand them. Do I know everything Ms. Galluzzo went through while writing these songs? No, and I hope I never have to feel the despair and anguish she so intimately reveals. But I am grateful for her vulnerability in sharing these deeply personal songs with the world, as it has allowed me and I would assume many others to reckon with our emotions surrounding a troubling time.
While I will never be a famous musician or someone who is able to create something that can reach thousands of people in a way that words cannot, I have an ever-growing love and appreciation for musicians. For their vulnerability, and for their willingness to share their pain with the world. I may share my pain in other ways, and cope with my struggles in less-than-socially-acceptable ways, but it is through these avenues in which I am able to heal and grow. So I hope that in 10 years, when my son is older and perhaps more children are in my home, this blog post will be the only reminder of the pain and heartache of my 20s. Perhaps something else will happen, and I will have to reckon with my emotions again, and perhaps Ms. Galluzzo’s music will come to the fore, or something else will help me heal. All I know is that I cannot do it on my own, and with all the support and medical intervention, sometimes there’s nothing like having a good cry to a great song that perhaps knows your emotions better than you yourself.
Thank you, Kelsie.
Nate Livsey 