The song: “Sleepyhead” // Passion Pit
The date: November 2010
The location: Somewhere between Michigan and Indiana
When I was twenty-one, I quit going to college and moved to California. However, between those two events, there were three months of manically trying to figure out what my next step was going to be. I was at my lowest point in my ten-year battle with depression, and was abusing some of the medications I’d been prescribed (which I may or may not discuss at a later date).
I was stranded in Michigan and had just decided to move to California with my family. It was about three in the morning and I had this desperate impulse to leave rightnow or else I was going to have a panic attack, so I threw together a suitcase, woke up my mom, and told her I was leaving for West Lafayette. I didn’t have my own car, but Mom already knew that I was going to take the car for a few days so I could load up the car with some of my stuff. Still sleeping, she murmured Okay, and I left.
I didn’t like driving on freeways back then, so I took the lesser-used highways to get from Michigan to West Lafayette. I had not slept in a couple days, so here I was: driving through the many small towns to Lafayette on sixteen hours of sleep I’d had earlier that week. When this song came on, in all its trippy, weird glory, it hit me hard and messed majorly with my brain. It’s forever burned in my memory, and every time I listen to it, I remember feeling the most exhausted I’d ever felt in my life, driving past farmlands coated in mist, and deer grazing. I remember feeling miserable and unhappy and wishing that things were different. That my boyfriend hadn’t dumped me six months ago, that I had more sympathetic friends, that I could move to Boston instead of stupid California, that my life was better.