I need to get it out of my system.
I will not go see Ariana on the Dangerous Woman Tour on June 7th. Say it again — I will not. Go see Ariana.
This, was the only thing I was looking forward to in 2017. I’m not exaggerating. Tickets were booked in February but things didn't look promising from the beginning. I had to literally drag the person I was going with as they first refused to. I bought the tickets. We live far from Paris and neither of us are rolling on money, I know it’s expensive. This was meant as my birthday party/gift. I love Ariana’s music so much, it means so much to me. It made me draw so much.
The first half of 2017 was a total, personal disaster. Nothing went as planned, never, on any occasion. I already had to cancel an event in Paris back in, actually, February. Nothing meaningful, but still. My moving plans went on hold indefinitely. I’m hating the place and environment I live in more and more each new second.
Things happened and the Ariana concert was on hold for a first time. This was suddenly a selfish decision which I should be withdrawing from. I didn’t. From that point on, I had a second ticket that didn’t bear any holder.
Things happened again, and I had my concert goer with me again. Couldn’t be happier.
More things, and the concert’s on hold because, my friend suddenly has a Job and probably won’t be coming. We’re about 2 months away from the show. Meaning she’ll have to ask for day off after less than 2 months at the job. Unlikely to be received well.
Time passes and she assures she’ll get the day off. I’m trying not to, but I start to anticipate this show a bit. Until then, I forced myself not to, because, well, I’ve really always been persuaded this was too good to be true. I needed that healing so bad.
Then… Manchester. Aside from the obvious shock, the week passes and I’m now convinced the rest of the European tour is cancelled. Well, I tried. I understand if Ariana makes that decision. I absolutely do.
At this point, I’m actually at my most serene. I’ve got a response. The shows are definitely gonna be cancelled. We’re at 10 days left only, no chances they’ll resume the tour here (if they do).
But they do. The staff posts that message saying all the shows are cancelled until June 5th. I was supposed to see Ariana on June 7th. I’m lost all over again.
French shows were confirmed to be maintained this week only, on Tuesday. One week before the show. And my friend now has to go with me while she hasn’t asked for her day off yet, and, I forgot to mention, we live 200km away from each other.
I’m in a real state of panic — you have to know (if you don’t follow this blog) that I’m depressive and suffer from anxiety, I haven’t had a correct night’s sleep in forever and I have chronic pains. Organizing a concert trip is, for me, much more complex than it is for basically anyone that doesn’t have any health issues. I don’t have a car anymore. So I must rely on people or public transportation. And since this trip was planned to be something I’d go to with my friend — she has a car, no train or anything was booked otherwise.
Just yesterday, I reached my limits. I broke down and realized this concert had been nothing but negative feelings thrown in an already pretty deep pool of misery and absolute lack of anticipation from day one. It’s been fighting, trying way too hard, it’s been fear, anxiousness, and it’s been something I never believed I could live. How crazy does that sound ? It’s just a concert, a freaking pop concert, and it feels like a matter of life and death. Well, to me, it was healing, it was 2 hours with no pain, physical or mental. 2 hours of something I unconditionally love and want to see, hear, and feel. Something I can’t easily afford, both metaphorically and factually. But this isn’t gonna happen.
Yesterday, my body and mind had enough of the waiting and the impossibility to enjoy, to anticipate. It was tried too much. I almost wished it didn’t happen, because I know for sure that I’m not going now.
I still thought I would go alone no matter how heartbreaking it would be — but the truth was, no matter what my friend would say to me, no matter how I do believe she would have done it to please me in the end; she didn’t want to go. And she made it clear on several occasions.
It seems idiotic to “tap out” literally 4 days before the show. Well, I’ll forever have it stuck in my throat, I already know it. But in 3 days, (actually 2 if you remove Sunday and Monday being a holiday) it’s pretty damn impossible to find the right trains and hotel for a cheap price (literally, this would cost me more than the two concert tickets). Because, yeah, I’m pretty damn broke. And I have two 75 euros tickets on my hands already. Better stop spending cash for nothing.
June could have been my month, literally. I have my birthday there, there was the concert, and also, it’s Pride month. There was all I needed to enjoy it.
That’s one of the (many) annoying consequences of depression, too — when you know there’s that one little thing that can make you feel just a tad better, you hold onto it so much it takes disproportionate proportions. I know most of you reading this must be “But, it’s just a concert. Calm down”. Yes, it’s just a concert. But it was my only thing this year. I haven’t gone to a concert in 3+ years. I haven’t been going to anything, anywhere. This meant so much.
As a great pessimist, or at least, as someone who always sees the glass half empty, I’m used to disappointment. I always prepare for it. I can’t say I’m surprised that this concert is yet another thing that I didn’t manage to do, for I feel like it’s the actual story of my life. Not trying to sound over-dramatic, I really do feel that. I love life enough to still be well, alive, but days like this one are just making it hard to do anything.
It’s definitely no solution to think that not doing anything is in fact, a solution to avoid these feelings. They’re always here no matter what. It’s hard to deal with them when they get so strong, however.
Writing this down did help a bit, I think. I sincerely hope it’ll help with this very unusual heartache I’m experiencing. I didn’t think it’d be that; I’m not as angry as I pictured I’d be. I’m extraordinarily sad.