I was a vocal major in college.  I was trained to sing operatic type stuff mostly.  The professors were always telling me to translate the words into English so I knew what I was singing about. That work was assigned in the hope that I would then be able to put emotion into it.  Well, I would translate the words, work hard at pronouncing the languages perfectly,  make sure my timing was right, my breaths... all the technical stuff, but I never sang with any emotion as a result.  Well, not until I snuck that bottle of tequila into the bathroom before my 1pm performance in the big hall... my "final".  

That was the first time I broke out of the norm... drinking in the middle of the day, hiding in the bathroom stall, 2 shots or so to get my knees to stop clanking together as I sang "Beau Soir" by Claud Debussy.  2 shots more... I was just trying to get my whole body to stop riveting so the words I worked so hard on, would come out clearly.  I was almost always, nearly debilitated with nerves.  I marveled at the people who were not that great, but stood up there and owned the stage.  How did they do it?  Where did they get the confidence?  It baffled me.  Here I was, supposedly the "Diva" of the school, as my professor called it... sneaking booze to get the notes out.  I should have realized I wasn't cut out for it when I nearly fainted at the audition just to get into the school. 

That was my sophomore year.  By my 3rd year, I was drinking just for my regular vocal classes each week. 

Now I could really sing, and now the door was opened up to drink any time, any day.  But only pertaining to this.  I still only drank weekend nights otherwise.  Looking back on it, this was a clear sign.  It never occurred to me to admit this to anyone... work through it maybe... get other kinds of help... my only option was to drink.  Already.  Only 20.

Later that year my boyfriend of about 2 yrs, killed himself.  He had no head when I found him.  He blamed it on me for breaking up with him, and I was going to do that anyway.  After about 6 months of PTSD hell, family pointing fingers, counselors not helping, meds not helping, I started drinking my life away.  Some where in those sick sick days, I also had thoughts like "wow, I'm so great that someone literally couldn't live without me".  My thinking was so messed up, and the shame of thoughts like that one... the shame of it all... turned me into a walking booze bottle.

Now I had a new kind of shakes all the time.  I was shaking off the liter of vodka I'd drink every night to fight off the night terrors.  It stopped the flash backs if I could saturate myself enough. 

I worked in an old folks home, and I had to feed this lady with MS.  My hands would shake so badly by supper time, I would spill food off the spoon onto her blouse.  Feeding myself was worse.  Sometimes I had to drink just to eat.

I quit school, worked full time, and that was my life.  Working, drinking, sleeping.

Now it's 10 yrs later.  There's another few hundred pages of the story that I'm going to skip for now ; )

But I did want to share with you that today I had the shakes again... in a good way!  I live in an old 1930's house with all the lovely wood work, wood floors, and very high ceiling.  It's a singers dream come true and I try not to over furnish it as to keep that beautiful acoustic echo this house naturally creates like a gym locker room.

I sang the national anthem this morning in the dining room.  Belted it out a couple of times so loudly that the animals that were grazing out back turned to look.  Then I sat down to do my readings, and it was shown to me that God works through peoples feelings.  Through their emotions.  Faith, is a trust thing... built on an emotion and feeling.  I was not alone as I sang the national anthem again, starting quietly, and listening to the words echo back at me.  I drifted onto the battle field in my mind, and imagined what those people were feeling when "The flag was still there".  Tears poured down my face, joy and awe, and peace, and inspiration burst past my lips.  I wasn't just singing from start to finish, I could have started, stopped, kept going, finished... each moment was precious.  His presence, was showing me how to live in the present, and simply enjoy what is right inside of me... right now.

My spirit... awakened. 

I was shaking... in recovery. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6TwIY__VwaE&feature=related

Beautiful evening  (Beau Soir)

Language: English

When streams turn pink in the setting sun,
And a slight shudder rushes through the wheat fields,
A plea for happiness seems to rise out of all things
  And it climbs up towards the troubled heart.

A plea to relish the charm of life
While there is youth and the evening is fair,
For we pass away, as the wave passes:
  The wave to the sea, we to the grave.