Misconceptions

When_will_they_play_it_again_sam

Recently, moreso in that past couple of years, there has been the idea going around that I am a pianist (or keyboardist, as the case may be).  This amuses me.  I am now taking great delight in fooling many people that I can actually play. It’s quite hilarious if you get the joke. Some of you do, but most of you will have just been totally lost.  See, the thing is, I play the keyboard, yes.  That does not make me a keyboardist any more than it makes the person who sings down at the karaoke a singer.  Now, singer I am indeed. In both talent and training, I am a vocalist. It’s the one thing I do that I am sure I do well. It’s the one thing I do that there is no room for debate over. It’s the one thing, more than any other, that is the true expression of my very being. I sing because it is so woven into my very make-up to do so that to not do it would be to cease any real living. However, that being said, I don’t just do it because I enjoy it. Supposedly, Mr. & Mrs. Karaoke enjoy the torture they put people through. No, I do it because I do it well; I enjoy doing it and doing it because I am good at it. 

So, why do I play the piano (or keyboard when no piano is available)? Well, I play to accompany my singing when there is no one else who is a better accompaniest there to do it for me. I will also play to accompany YOUR singing if you sing or if we are in church and I am leading praise and worship.  But, rest assured, I do not sit down and play instrumentals at home, and I do not – when I can help it – play the melody of anything. The melody is for a voice to sing.  I am an accompaniest, not a keyboardist.  The difference to some may be minute, I understand.  However, what you need to understand is, in reality, the difference is HUGE.

Were I to attempt to actually just play you something, some real piece of music, we would be back to the karaoke analogy. It would be painful.  So, first misconception dispelled… repeat after me: “Autumn is NOT a keyboardist; she is a vocalist who occasionally accompanies herself or others on an instrument called a keyboard (or, when given the opportunity, on the much better instrument, a piano).”

Second, and most importantly, the misconception I would like to dispell once and for all is the bizarre idea that I am a strong or tough person.  This simply is not true.  I have yet to get where this ridiculous idea originates from and how people could seriously assume something so far from the truth, but I can assure you that I am not a strong person.  And, see, not being strong doesn’t really bother me – ok…maybe it does bother me a tad; being stronger certainly might make my existence on this planet a bit easier for me. But, really, what bothers me is that people perceive me to be something I am not and I am spending my life being greatly misunderstood. And, I’ve come to the point where I’d actually rather be rejected for being myself than to be accepted for being what I am not. However, ideal situation would be to be accepted for who I am. But, after 37 years of being chronically misunderstood I am beginning to feel this is too much to ask humans for.

Why do I share any of this? Well, with my present bout of laryngitis, I have been most miserable because I cannot do something that brings me so much satisfaction; I feel like I am not completely myself unless I can sing. This is a weakness: I should be content with myself and my life without singing. But, I am not. I am truly miserable and utterly wretched.  I have also recently lost friendship that was a real blessing in my life and I am not dealing with it being gone very well.  And, while I didn’t want this blog to be negative, I need to rant a bit. After all, I can’t talk right now, but I can still type.

 

I’m hurting.

 

I’m tired.

 

I’m weary.

 

I’m generally fed up.

 

I have realised that – in relation to me – there are three types of people: people who can’t understand me at all (most people fall under this category), people who do speak my language but are only interested in being my friend for a while – when it becomes inconvenient or they find something better to do with their time they move on, or people who are actually too much like me and we can’t be friends because we make each other toxic (our weaknesses feed off each other…I have had an even more recent snafu with this scenario). The really annoying thing is, I do have friends – dear friends – but they are all on other continents! The people who I could hang out with and just have fun with….they are all far away, leaving me feeling very lonely because I can’t get a hug – or give one – when needed, I can’t talk to them face to face and do things with them.  This isn’t their fault. Some of them read this blog and will be greatly frustrated by the lack of Star Trek-like transporter beams.  And, for their frustration and love for me, I am more grateful than I can say.  Just sometimes, sometimes, I’d like someone  – don’t take this the wrong way – other than my husband to hold my hand. Jamie is wonderful and I adore him and without him, well, I just wouldn’t be without him… but, it isn’t even fair to him for him to be the only shoulder for me to cry on. It would be nice to have someone close by who wants to be a friend… in a practical, PRESENT way. A good close friend. I had this for a while here. I had someone to hang out with, make music with (which was such great therapy for me), walk, talk and rant with, supporting and encouraging one another. Before I had that here I really didn’t know what I was missing. Now, however…OUCH! And, I wish I could have that kind of friendship again…with one difference, that the friend would stay. However, I really don’t want to open myself up for such terrible pain again. I am not strong, remember, and this getting hurt so much is beginning to slice through my fragile psyche like razor blades through rice paper. 

 

So, this is some of that great pain that I am sure will, at some point, get balanced out with some great and marvellous joy. Until then, I shall pretend to play the keyboard and laugh at my private joke. 🙂

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