Thoughts from a Baby Therapist with a Mood Disorder

 Friends! Humans! People! I have arrived back to my home aka Colorado aka Den Den City aka Denver. It feels good to be back. As cursed as Denver is in many ways, I have come to love the shambles of the city and I'm just happy to be here. 

"A baby therapist?", you may think by the title of my blog. I do not do therapy for babies. I do therapy for people who have been involved in the legal or criminal justice system in some capacity. I am the Baby Therapist. I barely know what I'm doing and yet I graduated grad school. (I probably know what I'm doing in some ways.) (I think.) (Incompetence be damned.)

"Have you worked with children before?" Yes, and I love working with children. However, based on all the years I have spent in undergrad and grad school doing research and digging into who I am as a human and figuring out my true passions and interning, I have stuck with adult therapy for now. 

"A mood disorder?", you may think by the title of my blog. Yes, dear reader, believe it or not, I, too, have a mood disorder. 

"What's a mood disorder?" Good question. Weirdly, I am at a time in my life where I can say I'm more of an expert on this topic than the average person. Even typing that I hoped I would keep the crippling fear of incompetence locked away with the dust and the fleas in the attic of my subconcious, but even so, it emerges. 

Other experts may include professionals in the field of psychology and/or those who also have mood disorders. 

The scope of mood disorders ranges from Major Depressive Disorder over to Bipolar I Disorder. I like to think of it as a spectrum, but typically you fall into a little category. There's some nuance here and there. For example, if I started taking my survival snacks aka my Zoloft and I quickly slipped into a state of impulsivity, regular drug use, and regular unprotected sex with strangers, my therapist might think, "Shit, wrong diagnosis. That's a hypomanic episode." And, dear reader, there's nuance even then! Because engaging in that behavior in my past was because I was attempting to keep my very active suicidal ideation at bay. Depressive episode? Hypomanic episode? Manic episode? Mixed episode? Welcome to Mood Disorder City. 

I'm very much an open book about a variety of things. Growing up in a household where very little was talked about (and I mean very little of the "heavier things"), I started swinging the other way during my adolescence where I talked about anything and everything and despised virtual small talk/lighthearted conversation. Now I realize there's a place and time for it and I can respect it. But I still lean on the side of honesty and authenticity and directness as a main personality feature of mine. You ask about my issues with my parents? I'll air 'em. You ask about my suicide attempt? I'll tell you. You ask how my exes hurt me? Sure, and I wish them well but I never hope to see it. 

My past hurts and sadness is much more manageable now. I'm a full-fledged existentialist and anarchist which feels closer to my true state than anything ever has before. All my fears of being forgotten by people and my abandonment wounds are held in the truth that it doesn't matter. I know I am unforgettable to myself and I have myself and I hold myself tightly, but not too tightly. Because I know the people that see my significance and worth and I have kept them in my life. You all hold my hands when I'm too weak and can't quite get myself together. I have ceased to entertain those who are not kind to me. 

There's not much else I wanted to say, other than... I am in Denver! Yes, I am keeping "At The Moonbase" by Slaughter Beach, Dog and "Styrofoam Plates" by Death Cab for Cutie on loops these days. I try to romanticize what I can which is virtually everything about my life. It helps when I take my happy pills ;) 

I am in Denver, I'm back to the therapy grind, I'm dating a beautiful Virgo human who I get the privilege to travel to Europe with this summer and really dig my hands into my ancestors' home aka London, England. And I get to return to Paris aka my dream city so I'm very much stoked about that. 

I am continuing writing and my book of poetry and prose is coming along slowly. There's some real gems in there, but I'm a perfectionist. Turns out I do write better when I'm not severely depressed. 

So Denver pals, come through! I'm back to my local haunts and local venues and local concerts and local breweries and local hiking aka snowshoeing bc tis the season. 

Cheers to the abundance of the city and the grittiness of life. 

Also listen to this song: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2jI2naJMy0k

Atonement for My Fathers' Sins

There I was -  

A budding slouch of a child. 

Cough drop breath and a dandelion  

Nose altogether worthy and beautiful and loved and damned 

Because I had that haunting figure: the muse, the Freudian love, the Fathers  

That abused the Mothers -  

That saw love as futile and hopeless,  

Altogether uninterested and indifferent to the feminine touch and the honey sweet kisses and the cough drop breath.  

 

How many times can a man be unfaithful?  

Countless, as the one hundred women lay in your bed.  

I am a feminist because of my Fathers.  

Their lust for women has made me into a priest,  

Into a helper,  

A consolidator,  

A woman to remind the collection of women that even though their sex is just one in one hundred,  

They will always be memorable to me.  

My Fathers,  

Uninterested, 

Indifferent to the sways of change and humidity and humanity,  

Resting slightly on the San Diego beaches and reminiscing on their fraternity days and young women and Wow!  

Pushing sixty now, Dad,  

Did it matter that you never shared your heart?  

It does not matter because I can see my Fathers:  

Incarcerated,  

Lonely, sex addicted, and avoidant havens unto their own.  

No recesses here, only long lunch breaks and throwing up all the ghosts of the women who were the other.  

 

So I speak for these women.  

I atone for my sins by speaking to the men who say women are needy creatures, 

Succulent beings ready to lap up any kind of affection and affliction.  

Fathers, run to your Mothers.  

Forgive them.  

 

I am here,  

Like a ghost of a woman, a shell.  

Forget the fucking, forget the drugs, forget your past life,  

Fathers.  

I am my own Father. I am my own. 

Unpacking God in the Suburbs

    The title is an ode to boygenius' song "Anti-Curse." I cannot take the credit. I always thought it was cool I share half a name with Julien Baker. We share Rose. We share Baker. 

    In the time I posted my last big post/update (May 8, 2022) until now (June 14, 2023 - in case you were wondering), there have been a few things I've been mulling about in my mind palace. More specifically, I have been graciously watering a collection of thoughts and concepts that I have all connected together. In my depressed and addled brain, my connections make sense to me. In hopes that this will reach someone else, I'll drop my thoughts into the ether to see if anyone picks up what I'm saying. 

   1) First, I'll present a well-loved quote by Kurt Vonnegut: "And I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, 'If this isn't nice, I don't know what is.'" I see the first half of that quote being posted in various places: half-hearted shares on Facebook or cursive print on Pinterest. "I urge you to please notice when you are happy." I typically don't re-read my previous blog posts. However, my curiosity struck the other day and I impulsively scanned through all my previous blog posts. When I was young, I was hopeful. The past couple years I have continually posted "Dear reader, I am sad" in some various format. This is true. I find vulnerability and emotionality to be my strengths time and time again, so I'll share. I'm also not sure who actually takes the time to read these blog posts but I have gotten good remarks and compliments throughout the years on my writing. Thus, I continue to write. On June 2, I wanted to die. I wanted to die very badly. I haphazardly wrote a note, locked myself in my mom's bathroom with a knife and bleach, texted my loved ones, and proceeded to cry, dissociate, and panic for five hours. I texted a suicide hotline. I eventually texted my mom and told her that I was not doing well. A couple of mental health appointments later and I was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder and prescribed Zoloft. It doesn't come as a shock as I am aware of the lengthy history of mood disorders in my family. I also have been sad for so long. Since June 2, I've been taking time to chill (as the kids say) and rest. I deleted a lot of my social media in the past couple weeks. A quote from one of my best friends' ex rings in my mind: "Social media is the devil at work." It's true. The break has been nice. I've been reading a lot more and catching up on movies/shows. 

    My own struggle with suicidal ideation is one that I am open to talking about and something that I was also wildly nervous to share. As someone with a MA in forensic psychology, I am no stranger to the world of mental health. And yet, I am so afraid my own depressive tendencies make me a bad clinician. I remind myself that through my vulnerability lies my strength. The therapist who did my intake looked at me softly during the session and said "You are a good clinician," as I shared my fears. Vonnegut challenges us to think "'If this isn't nice, I don't know what is.'" While my own mental health has been hell these past two weeks, I have also challenged myself to grasp onto the good things. My suicidal ideation most often presents itself as two thoughts: 1. There is no future that sounds appealing enough to live in and 2. Is this all life has to offer? I feel trapped. I want out. 

    The other day, I walked half an hour in the Kansas City humidity and heat with my youngest sister. We walked from Walmart to Target - the epitome of a summertime suburban afternoon. There's a bit of a story as to why we walked 30 minutes in the scorching heat from one big department store to the other, but I digress. We listened to Ben Folds and took off our shoes while meandering down neighborhood sidewalks. We moved our feet from the burning pavement and into the cool grass. This moment was pretty good. Maybe life is about moments like this? I felt peaceful. Perhaps the meaning of life lies here. 

2) Anyone who knows me knows Pinegrove is one of my favorite bands. If you've been any type of friend of mine, you'll know I carry around my trusty, "comfort" water-bottle with me mostly everywhere.

    Pictured beneath this section is my Pinegrove water bottle covered in Pagosa Springs snow for reference (PS: please ignore my ex-situationship's hand in the pic. Hi Kevin, if you're reading this).

  In the song "On Jet Lag" by Pinegrove, Evan Stephens Hall references Vonnegut during the chorus. I am not here to talk about "On Jet Lag." I just had to tie Pinegrove to Vonnegut somehow. I am here to talk about their song "Darkness" and more particularly the lyrics "Some people spend their whole lives looking for someone who could understand - while meanwhile a lilac blooming, sometimes on the driest land." My interpretation of this is essentially "the grass is greener on the other side" and a criticism of that. I desperately want to feel understood in my relationships and especially my romantic relationships. I'm both elated and disturbed when I see my exes move on. Not that I want to see them obsessed with me (I'm hot shit though) but because it's a weird sensation to see someone you once loved become a stranger again. There's also freedom because just like they have moved on, I also get to move on. They should have that option just like I should have that option. In many ways, I feel like I have a torch lit for these people I've loved. Since moving to Kansas City, I have listened to Arcade Fire's "The Suburbs." It has provided me an immense amount of hope, nostalgia, and inspiration. The album has been a jolt of energy and beauty on my dullest of days. I have an ex to thank for that. On my most depressed days, I've watched Joe Pera Talks with You. I've cried all over again while re-watching that gem of a show. It's been a warm blanket in my life on the achiest of sad days. I'm dismal when I think of my ex and also comforted by the fact that incredible human being brought this beauty to me. 

    I am happy for my exes and I also despise the fact that they have moved on. Whether that is to other relationships or just over me in general, I feel like I am desperately holding onto some emotion to keep the relationship alive. There is no choice but to let go. And by letting go, I get the opportunity to feel what I felt again with another human (or with an ex at some point in the future - be prepared to be surprised, as the kids say). By holding onto longing, I am neglecting my own personal lilac - something that has potential to grow if I take my six-year-old self by her soft hands and help her find the flowers growing in her melancholy heart. 

3) Evan Stephens Hall from Pinegrove graduated from a college in Ohio that David Foster Wallace spoke at a mere six years prior. Many people know his commencement speech "This is Water." I remember talking about "This is Water" with one of my best friends way back when when we were in high school. Before present day 25-year-old Hannah discovered existentialism and Kierkegaard and therapy, 16-year-old Hannah clutched onto David Foster Wallace and old Bo Burnham videos before he became mainstream. One of David Foster Wallace's quotes in "This is Water" states, "Probably the most dangerous thing about an academic education - least in my own case - is that it enables my tendency to over-intellectualize stuff, to get lost in abstract argument inside my head, instead of simply paying attention to what is going on right in front of me, paying attention to what is going on inside me." As I've stated before, much of my growth in my own journey of therapy and mental health is actually feeling my emotions instead of thinking about my emotions. I love emotions. I've been told I'm an emotional person. I react with my emotions and I'm aware of why I'm reacting the way I am. I'm constantly refining and assessing how I am feeling about a present situation. I'm a perfectionist in the sense that if I am not responding to my emotions (or at least if I am not aware of them), I'm doing myself a disservice and not being genuine to the true essence of who I am as a person. 

    Back a couple weeks ago when I wanted to die and was pretty sure I'd be cranking out the modern-day version of Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar in a matter of days before I called it quits, I realized how self-centered I am. I will obviously offer myself grace. We are all human. We are all selfish. But I was doing myself a disservice by not digging into other people's lives. I love boundaries. I grew up in a household where boundaries were not well established so I grew up oscillating between no boundaries and an impenetrable wall. However, there's much to be learned by asking other people the hard questions - by digging into what's going on with their lives, whether that's the wedding gift they put on their registry that they're stressing to get or how they have been grieving with their child's death. While I realize my own experience is holy and valid, another human's is just as holy and valid. To lean in and listen (not just for my own benefit of getting out of my own mentally ill brain) and understand, I realize "this is water." Human experience is vast and real. It's an honor to take care of myself and take care of others. 

4) Suicide is a tricky topic but it is one that is popping up frequently in this post. I think about it often. In one of Anthony Bourdain's last interviews, he stated, "To sit alone or with a few friends, half-drunk under a full moon, you just understand how lucky you are; it's a story you can't tell. It's a story you almost by definition, can't share. I've learned in real time to look at those things and realize: I just had a really good moment." 

    I went and saw Bourdain's documentary with my cousin Cooper one summer evening. It's very good. I would recommend it. That was in the summer of 2021. My grandmother passed and I was experiencing many existential crises because of that and also despite it. I was nursing a heartbreak and coming to terms with how rapidly family dynamics were changing. It was two years ago, yet some memories are vibrant in my mind. The evening after my grandmother passed, Cooper and I fell asleep on the couches in the basement while watching Nomadland. He had recently introduced me to the likes of Damien Jurado and Mount Eerie so I was soaking up that sad, sad indie folk. I felt incredibly comforted by our shared levels of sadness and collective watching of a movie that I would describe as desolate. Life feels unreal when I'm reminded of moments where I was deeply grieving and also felt held and loved. It is duality in its essence. I think of falling asleep during Nomadland. I think of "Moon, I Already Know" by Mount Eerie: 

"Moon, I already know I'm small on the ground 

I roll around and feel menacing mountains 

And all depths of sorrow dwarf me 

All towering terrors are mine to cower below 

I know, I know, I know already 

So don't look at me like that and then 

Duck behind clouds 

I know I'm small and that I have no idea 

I know, I know, I know 

Let me be dumb again

Let food drip off my chin

Let me think you're a light 

Please, please let me sleep through the night unknowing 

Let me close eyes"

4) Damien Jurado has a song called "Rachel & Cali" that I love. As you're probably aware of the theme of me picking apart quotes and lyrics, I present "Sometimes I wish you knew how I keep living for you. A friend is only a lover you're not committed to." As I've stated in many posts, platonic love has kept me alive. I think we should absolutely be focusing way more attention on platonic love as opposed to romantic love. Don't get me wrong, romantic love is one of the absolute greatest things we can have in this life. I just think we don't honor platonic love as much as we should. These lyrics speak to me because I cherish my friends so deeply and hold their opinions so highly that I am convinced they are my soulmates. Obviously, interpret the lyrics as you will - for subjectivity's sake and all that. 

   

    My relationships with my friends are incredible protective factors for me. I think they helped me thrive when I was not emotionally thriving as a child (or as an adult, let's be real). I think they helped me feel loved when I wasn't lovable. 

    

    I've been working on talking to myself like I would a friend. When I struggle to advocate for myself, I remember I am advocating for my younger self. 

5) To continue the theme of my music taste and to tie into earlier references, I will conclude with how Arcade Fire's "The Suburbs (Continued)" has provided me promise. 

    I was in Denver about a month ago. I reconnected with someone who I had been casually seeing when I lived there. In the few days I was there, we hung out for about 24 hours which is a long time for me. The morning I was there, we stayed cuddled up in bed, drifting in and out of sleep until 1pm. In his defense, he had just run a marathon the day prior and in my defense, I was experiencing hypersomnia from my depressive episode. Between him saying "I just like hanging with you" and us both agreeing if we could sleep in until 1pm every day that life would be pretty sweet, the lyrics of "The Suburbs" floated through my head: "If I could have it back, all the time that we wasted, I'd only waste it again." The greatest stuff of life lies in the quiet moments. It lies in the moments that I am cuddling next to a human and choosing to ignore the world for hours. It's in the moments of walking through the suburbs with my sister. It's in the moments that I'm watching BoJack Horseman with my youngest sister outside a Walmart and she tells me BoJack reminds her of our father. It's the promise that I could see my future nephew take his first steps. Maybe I'll eventually get my LPC. It's the promise that I could go back for more education. It's the promise that someday soon I can share margaritas with my friends. It's the promise that soon this depression may lift and I'll remember what it felt like to be happy again. My poems may cease to be solely lamentations.

While I am writing this I resonate with Arcade Fire's lyrics. The lyrics are a warning that everything passes. We bottle up what good moments we have like dandelion wine. But as life presents duality after duality, these lyrics are also a testament to the dark days being behind us eventually:

"Sometimes I can't believe it, I'm moving past the feeling again."

For your listening pleasure: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aWWAJ8RgL9I

And my playlist for the past couple weeks: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6uTl9vbvoCqvql6YgfWaIX?si=5d781d8f18674ef9

And a photoshoot I did as an effort to reconnect with the little Hannah inside of me (plus some other pictures):

A Part of What I've Been Working on Lately

Sixty Degrees in December

It was preordained.

Leaving a person or a place is not something I do lightly.

Somewhere in my memory my six-year-old self is holding tightly to a tattered, worn-down stuffed animal – its floppy ears clenched between tiny fists, a heart too heavy to let it go.

It is a keepsake of nostalgia, a reminder of the innocence that once was.

I vow to keep it in the trash bags of my mind – not as a disrespect to the piece itself, but as a cautionary practice: the act of moving on a looming force in the future that attacks when you least expect it.

How am I supposed to let go of a person then?

If I am too afraid of losing the animal that sits in a dusty trash bag underneath my childhood bed, how will I let go of a friend?

Tonight, I was told: “I have a hard time making friends so it’s hard for me to imagine moving anytime soon.”

We are in our 20s and although it is painful and fantastic, we’re haunted by the simple fact that everything passes. This force doesn’t frighten me, but it does anger me.

Tonight, I sat at a spotless table with my friends, and they ate the cookies I baked that were less than spectacular and they told me they were good.

I’ve always had a hard time making friends. Is that why I can’t let any of them go?

I am leaving soon, and I am reminded of how precious this is. I cannot collect these people and carry them with me from state to state. So, I bottle every moment. I will continue to do this until my memory fades, and I also pass and become what once was.

I am humbled to feel seen, and I am humbled to move on. I am humbled by the fact that I was once someone who could not let go. I am humbled by the fact that I changed.

The Definitive Ranking of Death Cab for Cutie's Albums That No One Asked For

 Anyone who has been friends with me for over six months would tell you that my favorite band is Death Cab for Cutie (or Pinegrove, depends on who you're asking) (or Slaughter Beach, Dog) BUT I digress. Death Cab is my favorite band, so congrats, dear reader - you may not have known me for over six months, but now you know my favorite band. 

In celebration of Death Cab dropping their 10th album Asphalt Meadows, I wanted to compile a list of all their albums ranked by just which albums I like the best. I'm taking into account which albums seem to be top tier musically and lyrically and also which ones evoke any type of feeling of melancholy or nostalgia in me (as Death Cab albums often do). I also just love compiling lists and collections, so this is just very soothing for me. 

I'll be sharing what I love so much about the albums and I'll also be adding my personal favorite song on each album. So if you're looking for a deep dive into my critique of my favorite band, please indulge me and read this and talk with me about it. 

I will be going from my least favorite album to my favorite :) 

10. Codes and Keys

    Codes and Keys is simply mid. I'm always wary of people who tell me this is their favorite Death Cab album because it's just mid. It's acoustic and happy and mellow and doesn't really sound like typical Death Cab. I get it because Ben Gibbard was married to Zooey Deschanel here and I get it, he was actually happy and was making happy songs, but it made for MID songs. So thanks a lot, Zooey. (JK, she's a Capricorn queen and I love her). ANyWaYS, if you're looking for an intro to Death Cab, I would not look here. As an album, it's great, but as a Death Cab album - I'm not particularly impressed. It does get brownie points for instantly transporting me back to the year 2011, my freshman year of high school when I wore those bright colored skinny jeans and had a pair of corduroy Toms. Instantly takes me back there. 14yo me thought this album was magical. So I can't completely bash it. 

    Favorite song: St. Peter's Cathedral 

9. Something About Airplanes 

    OKAY, I LOVE early Death Cab. And as their first album, this gives me some very good feels. I ranked it this low because it's just early Death Cab. It's not as fleshed out as their later albums. I love every single song on it, but I personally never connected to it in a very nostalgic way, so here it is. A good album though - I'd recommend early Death Cab if you also like early Modest Mouse. Late 90s indie rock is the superior genre. 

    Favorite song: Line of Best Fit 

8. The Photo Album 

    Another early Death Cab album. A bit more fleshed out than Something About Airplanes so we like it. A bit more cohesive sounding. It's solid. I didn't connect with this album as much when I was younger which is why it's also ranked low, but absolutely worth checking out because there are some absolute gems on this album. ALSO this album contains their only song that mentions the city of Denver (Styrofoam Plates) and obviously I am biased because I live in Denver, Colorado and it's my favorite city. Okay moving on :)

    Favorite song: A Movie Script Ending

7. Thank You for Today

    Ah yes, Death Cab's 9th album. This album pulled me through my years of undergrad and carried me through grad school and now I have Asphalt Meadows to carry me through the rest of my 20s. This album takes me instantly back to Greeley, Colorado and walking around the University of Northern Colorado campus in the late summer/early school year while I mulled over my thoughts on why my best guy friend ghosted me three years prior. I cried a thousand times listening to "I Dreamt We Spoke Again" and "Summer Years". My enneagram 4 personality was screaming. I put this album in the 7th place slot because although this album does slap especially for my own nostalgic reasons, musically and lyrically, it's just average for a Death Cab album in my opinion. I still will sing every single lyric to every single song though. Also Ben's lyrics "Were you happier when you were poor?" haunt me every single day as I'm this close to abandoning my masters degree to be a barista and live in shitty houses in Greeley again.

    Favorite song: 60 & Punk

6. Kintsugi 

    Another album that takes me instantly back to senior year where I had a sick need to win every single competition in high school and before I moved to Arkansas for my freshman year and wanted to die every single day. I listened to the HELL out of this album. I used this album specifically to get all my friends into Death Cab for Cutie. It was the gateway drug to Death Cab. We love her, we honor her, and we love the Japanese concept for the album title. "The Ghosts of Beverly Drive" while about California, instantly takes me back to being nauseous in the South and fighting for my life and while that sounds like a bad thing, dear reader, I have a knack for romanticizing the past whether it was good or bad. Also, Ben Gibbard got sad over his divorce with Zooey Deschanel as this was the album that followed Codes and Keys. A Capricorn ruined his life and I relate to that. Thanks for creating the sad music again, Ben. We love you, Kintsugi! 

    Favorite song: No Room in Frame 

5. Asphalt Meadows 

    I have indeed listened to this album twice since it came out two hours ago. Let me tell you, dear reader, I WEEPED while listening to "Rand McNally" while I sat in the bath and watched the lavender buds in the lavender bath salts I used float around me and comfort me while I literally sobbed while listening to this song. "Roman Candles" dropped a few weeks after I went through a breakup and a few weeks before I graduated from my masters program. I remember listening to it for the first time during a break in my Lifespan Development class with my friend who is also a huge Death Cab fan and I remember feeling really comforted with the line that Ben repeats throughout it: "I am learning to let go of everything I tried to hold". So simple, yet so comforting as I felt like I was losing so much and gaining so much at the same time. I started my grad school journey with a Death Cab album (more on that later) and I ended my grad school journey with a Death Cab album. This album feels incredibly hopeful in a way, yet there also seems to be a theme of anxiety and uncertainty towards the future. Very fitting for my life right now. I listened to "Here to Forever" on a dock in Dubrovnik, Croatia with a friend as we looked at the full moon that night. Lavender also just grows everywhere there. It all felt very cyclical and certain. I listened to it again with a friend on a bench across the street from my hostel in Lisbon. Ben speaks to my existential fears in that song as he typically does. This album makes me want to envision life growing up in a city in the same way I wanted to envision growing up in the suburbs a la The Suburbs by Arcade Fire. This album also branches out from Death Cab's sound in the past two albums (Thank You for Today and Kintsugi) and feels like a step up creatively. I cannot recommend this album enough. 

    Favorite song: Rand McNally

4. Narrow Stairs 

    THIS ALBUM !! Ben Gibbard has stated he was incredibly depressed when he wrote this album and it shows. The songs are top tier immaculate perfection. They are all incredibly sad and make you feel slightly hopeless and pretty discouraged. Lyrically, this album slaps. I listened to "Cath" a lot when I went through my first serious breakup and that was probably the moment I realized I had an insecure attachment style. This was also my ex's favorite Death Cab album, so the nostalgia is thick with this one. Musically, this is Death Cab's most dissonant, heavy, alt rock album. This was also the first Death Cab album I listened to all the way through (!!!) because my parents owned it and would play it in the car. I was, like, 10 years old. I am not to blame for my current sad boi, male manipulator music. I blame my parents. Thank you , Mike and Heather. 

    Favorite song: Bixby Canyon Bridge

3. Transatlanticism 

    What I've heard as Death Cab's masterpiece album rings true. This is top tier Death Cab. If someone had never listened to Death Cab before but was interested, I'd point them to this album. Write that down. Every single song on here is so good. The album cover is... 

...iconic as you can see. If there was an album that was the embodiment of the month of October (my favorite month), this would be it. "A Lack of Color" instantly transports me to my hometown of Estes Park, Colorado back in fall 2013 when the Starbucks used to be a tiny Starbucks that was downtown and I'd go there and get a chai and walk around outside in the freezing wind with my friends. I want "Passenger Seat" to be my first dance song at my wedding. "We Looked Like Giants" is the most poetic way to talk about a hookup buddy/one night stand that I've ever heard. Ben Gibbard makes hickeys and avoidant attachment style sound romantic on "Tiny Vessels". Whenever I listen to this album, I want to drive through the canyon up to Estes at night and roll the windows down on my Subaru and feel the early fall air cool my face. I listen to "The New Year" every New Years Eve religiously so Spotify always notifies me it was my first played song of every year. If you want an album that brings the crispness of the fall leaves and the changing of the seasons, look no further. 

    Favorite song: Passenger Seat

2. We Have the Facts and We're Voting Yes

    This album is pure genius. Imagine: you're a cishet 23yo white man named Benjamin Gibbard studying environmental chemistry and living in Washington state and you drop one of the best indie rock albums of all time. Now imagine: you're a 3yo child named Hannah Baker living in the suburbs of Kansas City with no concept that her favorite album even exists. And that is the beauty of late 90s indie rock, alright, that's it - I'll see myself out. Okay, in all actuality, We Have the Facts takes me back to different points throughout my childhood. I didn't discover this album until undergrad when I was living in Greeley, Colorado (haha yay!) but as Ben talks about being an undergraduate student at Western Washington University and singing songs about the shitty places he's living, I, too, was relating to that. Although this album is actually not my favorite Death Cab album (I lied earlier in this paragraph), it does contain my favorite Death Cab song. I think this album is just straight ol' nostalgia bottled up into some really good tunes. I think most people would feel nostalgic while listening to this album or maybe I'm just hopeful that they would. This song pinpoints various moments in my youth (much like how Birdie by Slaughter Beach, Dog does) even though it wasn't there throughout the entirety of my childhood. Some songs take me back to my living room in my childhood home while watching Bones (the Deschanel sisters are making many appearances in this post) and feeling the summertime air come through the open windows. The song "405" very much takes me back to working at the Estes Park Aerial Tramway through all my high school summers as my friend and I would sing this song about our "alcoholic summer" as 17yo children while we rode up and down the tram all day. This album reminds me of a road trip I took with my friend to Mesa Verde National Park. I think this album was the only album we listened to for the entirety of that March spring break trip. It reminds me of a bird sanctuary we visited. "Scientist Studies" in my very humble opinion is Death Cab for Cutie's best song and if you're interested, I'd say just listen to it yourself. In the meantime, enjoy my shrine I painted a few years back to honor the indie rock KING and his incredible lyricism. If you ever actually become my friend, you'll see this in my bedroom between an Arcade Fire poster, a framed Poor Bishop Hooper poster, and another painting I did to honor the masterpiece that is Richard Linklater's Boyhood.

    Favorite song: Scientist Studies

1. Plans 

    This album is a best friend at this point. Plans is probably my favorite album of all time and as my friends would also probably answer if you asked them what my favorite album was. (If they answer We Have the Facts, it's okay - silver medal for them). But seriously, I've been gifted various references to Plans over the years because my friends know I'm obsessed with the album. As mentioned in the Asphalt Meadows paragraph, this album is the album that brought me into grad school. I see it as a friend that has made its way through life with me. As it boasts what is probably Death Cab's most popular song "I Will Follow You Into the Dark" and the first Death Cab song I ever heard at the young age of nine years old, I grew up to only realize the true richness of the album. I heard "Soul Meets Body" for the first time when I was 12 years old sitting on my bathroom floor in my childhood room on the top floor of my family's house. I remember it so distinctly as the moment I fell in love with Death Cab. It was like a soulmate moment or something of the likes. I also have a distinct memory of listening to it in the car while taking the back way through Estes to bypass downtown in the fall and seeing the leaves all changing by the river. I felt complete. 

    I have a memory for every song. In middle school in my budding state of realizing I was attracted to men (:/) I used to listen to "Someday You Will Be Loved" and imagine what it'd be like to be a little bit older and in a relationship with someone. As a 13yo I liked the aspect of drama in that imaginary relationship. I used to imagine dating someone and walking around a suburban neighborhood with him at nighttime. I guess with nothing to do but walk and also with no other ending to the scenario other than him breaking up with me and me finding someone who actually loves me. In retrospect maybe I was a sad 13yo. "Summer Skin" transports me to outside a high school around 6pm standing by the swing set and looking at cigarette butts on the ground. The older I've gotten the more I understand what Ben was trying to say in "Brothers on a Hotel Bed" because it can be really depressing and isolating when you're in bed next to the person you are or were dating and you feel really nothing towards them. How do you process that? How do we move on? These themes are in every single song off Plans - the title itself a reference to "What Sarah Said": "And it came to me then that every plan is a tiny prayer to Father Time". 

    I had an interview at DU for my MA program scheduled a couple weeks before COVID hit. I was indeed living in Greeley at the time. I was indeed in love with a man who had just gotten into a relationship and I was very unwell. I was excited that I had gotten to the second phase in the interview process at DU and was anxious on my drive down to Denver for my interview. When I told the other potential students who were there who the person was who was interviewing me for the program, they all said, "Yikes, he's a scary professor, good luck." Dear reader, he did indeed let me into the program and he was indeed my advisor and is still scary all the same. My interview with him was the last of the whole day. I was happy about it in a way because psychologically we remember the first and the last in a group of things the most significantly. There was one other person in the room who also had an interview with another professor. I recall we were helping stack chairs and clean up the room while we waited. I chatted with her and we left for our interviews at the same time. We wished each other good luck. 

    I went into my advisor's office and he did not ask me a lot of questions about forensic psychology. Instead he asked what books I was reading and what my favorite piece of art was. I told him my favorite piece of art was Plans by Death Cab for Cutie because it dealt with the concept of loss. We lose and we grieve and that is the human experience. All of life is an act of letting go and grieving, yet there is solidarity and hope in that. With my future clients as a therapist may I never forget my humanness and may I never forget that we have all lost and are losing and the thing that ties us all together is death. But while we're here we build relationships. And during my time in grad school I noticed the times I was withdrawing and chose then to seek connection. I realized that being gentle to others and maintaining relationships is the most precious thing we have. I told my professor about Plans. I got into the program. The girl that was waiting with me for her interview at the end of the day also got into the program. And we became friends! And she was the one I listened to "Roman Candles" with a few weeks before I graduated! And Death Cab also coincidentally, and maybe not at all coincidentally, is her favorite band, too. We saw them a year ago at Red Rocks, almost a year to the day that "Asphalt Meadows" came out. 

   What started my grad school journey was Plans and realizing that what tied us together was loss and death as Ben Gibbard so eloquently explains throughout the album. While we have the abundance of grief on this Earth, I think "Asphalt Meadows" carried me gently out of the program and into this new, untethered phase of life I'm in. With loss, I am reminded we have abundant hope. With the heaviness of grief, I am also reminded of the bitter sweetness of letting go. 

    Favorite song: Soul Meets Body