I’m aware I’m repeating myself here, but it was only when my dream came true did I realize I no longer wanted it.
Nobody could’ve changed my mind when I was on my quest.
Getting a recording contract was my mission.
If somebody had’ve said, “What if you don’t actually want it?” I sincerely wouldn’t have been able to compute what they were saying.
The thought of not wanting it didn’t enter the equation.
Why would it?
The thought of failing entered my mind loads of times, but that was through fear.
A thought that doubted why I wanted the dream to become a reality would’ve doubted everything I lived for, would’ve doubted the complete identity I had conjured up.
Talk about fear!
No, I never doubted my goal because I enjoyed making music too much.
So when the dream came true and we started gigging around the UK, and I found myself slipping further and further into a dark place, I knew something wasn’t right.
That question I had never asked needed to be asked.
One day, whilst sitting in my car, I asked myself, “What would it feel like, right now, if I stopped making music?”
I shut my eyes and pretended for about ten seconds how that would feel.
It was as if an elephant had been lifted off of my chest and shoulders.
I took a deep breath and laughed.
How light I felt!
I couldn’t believe it.
For nine years I had been allowing that elephant to grow, and when you’re feeding something every day, just like in Roald Dahl’s Esio Trot, you don’t see (or in my case, feel) the difference.
Such a deep pit I had dug for myself.
Now I had to climb out, but nobody was willing to lend a ladder.