therapy in concerts? more likely than you think!

This post contains mention of self-destruction, depression, and similar themes. 

I've understood the idea of catharsis, and I often thought that I've already felt it. I mean at 28, at some point, it comes along at some point, right? Until now, I can't say with certainty I had that feeling before, but there was "something in the air" that night, and it wasn't just the weed.

The openers were great - I wasn't the hugest fan of them so I was just enjoying the show and singing along to the very few songs I knew from The Plot in You and Motionless in White. I've never heard of Amira Elfeky, but I was mesmerized by her (plus, her dress was beautiful). 

Then the curtain for Bring Me The Horizon went up. 

Now, I hadn't seen any videos of the tour - I wanted to be surprised. Boy, was I. 

I noticed in the camera lens in front of us that the stage hands were laying something down on the stage, and from the barricade, it wasn't visible (come to find out, it's a tile floor pattern). The video clips that mimicked Metal Gear Solid and Resident Evil started to play of the band, smoke started to billow out and the lights along the wings started to point to the stage before the curtain finally dropped to reveal the chapel that we were now in the sanctuary of.

DArkSide started to blast and everything that I have been holding in for the past fourteen years of my life erupted from my lungs. Every word, every beat, every scream and growl had escaped from my throat and chest. My body reacted like I was on stage, and this was the performance of a lifetime. 

 MANTRA, Happy Song, Teardrops, AmEN!, all had me mesmerized between the visuals and storytelling on stage. Happy Song, coming from the first BMTH album release I was able to see as a fan (I roughly became a fan a year after Sempiternal after a fateful day of purchasing the album from Hot Topic), got me that first dip of catharsis as I screamed along to the lyrics. 

It wasn't until the eerie opening of Shadow Moses that the feeling finally crashed into me. I wasn't 28 anymore. 

I was 16. I was angry. I was hurt. I wanted to know if it would be okay again. I wanted to feel like I wasn't a ghost skirting through life. I felt stuck. I mourned. I screamed. Through the course of the show, I was riding that feeling through Antivist as the lyrics were displayed on the stage like a Rockband song - A game I had obsessively played to ignore the shit feelings stewing in my head in high school (including Guitar Hero which I mostly played. My friend had Rockband).

Can You Feel My Heart was a battle in the pit of surviving the crowdsurfing as well as being partially mesmerized by the visualizer behind Oli and Oli himself. I knew it when I watched the videos then, and I know with certainty now, this man can command the stage and audience with a simple look, and we're all just sheep at his mercy.

Now, you might be thinking, so what, Briar. Why should I care about this? Why should I care about your feelings or this band?

You don't have to, but if you got to sing the song that saved you from your own self-destruction after a suicide attempt with the man who has had experiences and thoughts like your own, how would that make you feel?

I know one thing for certain.

I feel a little less lonely.