29
WESTON
It wasn’t until the initial rush of excitement over officially joining the band began to wear off that everything hit me with the worst bout of depression I’d had in years. I’d managed it with music, growing up, but the only song I wanted to play now was “Nora’s Melody.”
Even my music had turned against me.
Apparently, I would just suffer for my choice. I’d read Crime and Punishment in high school and never understood Dostoevsky’s point about how guilt could cause such mental anguish that a person would deteriorate. But I certainly understood now, I couldn’t go on like this. I just couldn’t.
So, I’d given up on trying to be okay.
I went to the studio. I still felt strange about walking into a booth this fancy with or without the rest of the band. But it felt necessary. I’d
