Save Tonight

March 27, 2019, still under the influence of roids and anti-seizures

On March 27, 2019, I took a little drive on a county road. I went fast and blared “I’m Still Standing.” I parked on an approach, and smashed all the CDs I’d made for my car that fateful spring (don’t judge, these were my pre-Apple streaming days and I’m a forever 90s girl).

It helped a bit. But it didn’t “cure” me.

I write this only days away from another March 27. I’ve often said that I can point to my life altering from normal to AE, and it’s on March 27, 2018. It’s a supremely gross day.

I’m seven years away from that long night in the hotel where Burger King’s lights pierced into my dark, sleepless room. My two-day domestic trial felt like a gong show. My insides were fraught.

The songs that now make up Unwillable’s playlist were in my car and in that hotel room. It felt like they were burning a hole in my crumbling mind, as my life started producing its own bleary and reality-distancing soundtrack. I was unwinding.

Even writing the description of that night conjures up terrible feelings. And transports me back.

It is no wonder to me that March is one of the most triggering and challenging months of each year. Along with May, they’re the two months I’ve come to fear, which I hate. I used to enjoy spring.

I don’t want to live in trauma, anxiety, and panic attacks for three months, because it’s miserable. So this year, I convinced myself I could break the cycle, and I made up my mind: Dammit, this is not unwillable!

With music being such an integral part of my March madness, you’d think I’d want to run from it. Not a chance. I’ve decided to lean into it.

I have Spring Music (think 90s Elton, Steve Winwood), Fall Classics (think Mumford and Sons, James Taylor), and my personal favorite, “Drivin’ at Night Music.” Drivin’ at Night songs can only be defined as, well, music that makes you come alive when you’re driving at night. Think: “In the Air Tonight” and “Keep on Loving You.” (Not taking comments at this time.)

Fingers and toes crossed not to jinx it: I’m proud to say that I’ve had probably the best March, since 2018. In part, my kids keep me too busy to dwell on the past. We’ve also worked diligently in counseling to find concrete ways to deal with my trauma, especially during the spring months. And my personal favorite: My confidence in my coping tactics has soared!

I have had some moments, but I’ve quickly worked out of them. And I owe it to three things:

1) I’m absolutely refusing to entertain my mind and its detailed memories of 2018’s AE-onset;

2) If a bad feeling slips in, I feel it, quickly face it, and then redirect my mind with a mantra: This IS 2025! You’re an author and speaker, you have three kids, you and Sean are OK! This IS NOT 2018!!;

3) I’m embracing old music.

Since the Presidential inauguration in January, I’ve been listening to music from my golden years of 1997-99. On repeat. These years fuel happy memories and nostalgia like no other. They take me back to the carefree days of junior high, with my best friend, Lacie, when we were rollerblading, watching VH1, babysitting, and swimming.

And as the March weather started to bring on more of the AE-memories, I added in the pure joy of 80s music. It’s upbeat, has vintage memories, and is comfortable, but without the triggers.

I’m also making myself listen to mixes of new hits. I’m not always the best about experimenting with music, rather I defer to what I know I like. But allowing myself to find new tunes is helping me create new frames of reference and neural pathways for these tough months.

I’ve been on to something.

Last week, I read two different publications on happiness and reducing stress, and each piece pointed to the benefits of listening to your favorite song or music. There’s science behind it (and I bet it’s more reliable than what makes the cut for Drivin’ at Night Music?!)

If you find yourself struggling to cope because of chronic health, AE, trauma, or the uncertainty of America; first, I’m sorry. I get it. And second, turn to music. Go back to the songs when you got your driver’s license, when you held a boy’s sweaty hand for too long during Titanic (not hypothetical), junior prom song, your wedding party dance. Or when the world felt just right for you.

I promise. It works.

We’re stronger, together. For all of you who have been helping me through these tough months, thank you. And for anyone who needs a boost, I hope this helps.

Just Keep Swimming. Sometimes the Better Days Ahead are willable.

Luv,

jackie

PS May I recommend Amelia Wilson's Substack - Happiness on Purpose. It's wonderful! Her whole job is reading about and sharing ... happiness! And this podcast from Prof. G. I'm obsessed with Scott Galloway (and Kara Swisher) and I loved this episode. Sean and I watched Running Point on Netflix and it was really fun (and you know it takes a LOT to get me to watch anything!)

“Tomorrow comes to take me away

I wish that I, that I could stay

Girl, you know I've got to go, oh

And, Lord, I wish it wasn't so

“Save tonight and fight the break of dawn

Come tomorrow, tomorrow I'll be gone

Save tonight and fight the break of dawn

Come tomorrow, tomorrow I'll be gone” ~ Save Tonight by Eagle Eye Cherry

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/ / The JM Stebbins blog is an autoimmune encephalitis blog from former lawyer and autoimmune encephalitis survivor, Jackie M. Stebbins.

Jackie M. Stebbins is also the author of Unwillable: A Journey to Reclaim my Brain, a book about autoimmune encephalitis, resilience, hope, and survival. / /