I'm out to make my mind tangable.
is the sole reason that I did not kill myself. When I stop to think of everything that she is responsible for, I thank the Universe that I had someone like her when I did. Not only did she tell me that someone believed in me, but also that I should believe in myself. These words could not have come at a better time.
My relationship with my mother was on the verge of toppling off of a precariously placed shelf by the tidal wave of introversion; the only words my father spoke to me were “love you. Goodnight,” and “get on your homework.” I didn’t have the support system that I needed in the way of friends, I had only one confidant and she was too busy planning for college, which she can in no way be blamed for, to pick up on the subtle hints I dropped every now and then about how miserable I was in my own skin. I would live for the days of Summer when I could watch sunlight dance on the grass as the trees moved above it, or the nights when I turned on Passion Pit really loud when no one was at home and get high to look at the glow-in-the-dark stars and planets on my walls and ceiling and dream about joining them. I slept for hours on end falling endlessly into a place where I didn’t feel lonely or hurt or scared or unwanted or different or any of the other feelings I had within me.
I had always loved Gaga’s sense of outre style and her theatricality. I bopped along to “Pokerface,” and “Just Dance,” whenever they would come on the radio. I loved to see what the next outfit she would have on at an upcoming performance or red carpet or award ceremony. Then came the 2009 MTV Music Video Awards. This performance, for those of you that don’t remember, was what put Lady Gaga on the map. She already had a solid base on which to stand, but this performance let everyone know that Lady Gaga was here and she wasn’t fucking around.
After this performance, I started to gain a new perspective on this new pop star, Lady Gaga. No longer was she the weird one with the odd little outfits, or the one who made music about getting wasted and losing phone, keys, etc. whilst dancing at the club. Her mission took on form as I watched videos of her at Pride rallies, speeches, live performances at the Fame Ball, and talking to her fans. I realized that she wasn’t just the ordinary pop star. So I kept one eye on Gaga from that moment onward.
Little did I know that soon enough, I’d have both eyes, arms, one leg, and my heart entirely wrapped around her. She became the reason that I watched the Grammys or the Oscars or the AMAs or whatever else she attended that had little to no relevancy to my life. She was the reason I bought CDs or listened to the radio or flipped through magazines before deciding to buy them because there was one stunning picture of her in the middle or anything else that I really didn’t have the money to do (save listening to the radio, because that’s free).
As I slumped down further and further into my “dark days,” I left Gaga behind. I stopped caring about what she put out and I stopped scanning the online forums for news and gossip about the by-now-mega-famous star. I had given up on anything from the previous life that I led. Unfortunately, that included Gaga. I kept feeling worse and worse and things kept getting harder and harder and I wanted to sleep more and more and get higher and higher and finally I decided that I was not going to be happy anymore: period. I wrote my suicide note over and over again, trying to make it as hurtful to everyone that had hurt me over the previous 16 years as I could possibly muster. I wanted them to suffer just like I had. I wanted them to feel as absolutely worthless as I had been made to feel. The morning after I had perfected my final good-bye, I heard from a teacher at school that Gaga had spoken at a rally in Maine about repealing Don’t ask, don’t tell and that I should watch it. That afternoon, I did just that. I sat down at the computer and watched the entire 16 minute speech that spewed a message of acceptance and why the law was wrong. At the end, I felt so liberated and so free, that I immediately went home, took my note and shredded it into little bits. In eighteen minutes something that took weeks to perfect was destroyed. And I don’t regret it one bit.
After that I day, I listened to everything I could get my hands on that had to do with Lady Gaga. I bought the albums that I had missed out on, I scanned amazon.com to find magazines with interviews that I hadn’t read, I did everything in my power to feel as connected with her as I could. The very next week, there was an announcement on the radio about the Monster Ball coming to Nashville, where I live. I was legitimately head-over-heels in love with the idea of going to this show. The only problem would be getting the money to find the money to buy a ticket (cause let’s face it, they were fucking ridiculous). I asked for a ticket for my birthday and ended up with two (it should be noted that my birthday was two months after the tickets went on sale, so I went two months thinking that I didn’t get anything).
Needless to say, my time at the Monster Ball was the GREATEST experience of my life. I cried four times, shrieked the whole night, sang, danced, and fell in love all over again with my Mother Monster. I am so much better now and have not looked back into the depths of my “dark days,” since that night.
I literally owe my life to Lady Gaga.
Thank you, Gaga. You have no idea how much you have helped me.
I will always and forever be loyal to you and your cause.
PAWS UP!
