Yes, post-concert depression is a real thing, and I suffer from it too. Mostly after concerts, with withdrawal symptoms. Honestly, now more than ever. I haven’t been to a concert in over a year, and I have a very hard time dealing with it. So, I want to shine more light on PCD in today’s post.
These are the remnants of what you felt standing in the front row and singing along (possibly crying) to your favourite song. It envelops you at night, past the merch table and on the sidewalk where you choose to fight traffic, or wait at a gate near their bus, hoping that your favourite musicians will come out to say hello. Euphoria will expand if you do the latter.
You take a moment to register everything that happened – loudly with your friends who were there or quietly alone. Some people choose to use this phase of their lives after the show to write a review or upload photos. During this phase, you may find yourself writing grandiose statements about how your life has changed forever.
Wait. You just said this show changed your life. Right now, you’re taking in the full weight of that feeling. And this is where the sadness kicks in: you begin to realise that you’ll never experience it again and that all the pictures and descriptions in the world can never really capture the beauty you just experienced.
The next day, you’ll return to your daily life, which will seem extremely inferior after the night you just had. Maybe you’re just going through the daily moves and wondering: ‘What’s the point? This isn’t life. Last night’s show – that was life. That was feeling alive. This is just living through the day.’
5. Feeling outcasted
To cheer yourself up, you may find yourself clinging to going back a few stages to reflection, sharing it with people who weren’t on the show. Most people will respond with a half-hearted ‘oh, that’s cool’ or ‘sounds nice.’ And you’re like: ‘but you don’t understand! It was so much more than that!’ But what it means to you is impossible to put into words. Right now you realise that no one understands you, and the people who do, are nowhere to be found.
Okay. Maybe the people who surround you don’t get it, but there are definitely friends within the fanbase who do. You want a second taste and you’ll live vicariously through others to get it. You hunt down your friends who are going to upcoming concerts, and continuously refreshes the shit out of your social media accounts until the night is over for any sign of photos or glimpses of the show. You scour tags and YouTube, anything you can do to get a little peek.
7. Lack of impulse control
You realise that your lonely lifeless existence can only be satiated by more of what put you in your current predicament to begin with: a concert. You might find yourself looking at their website, looking at that next date in another country thinking: ‘yeah, this is a good idea.’ You’d be willing to spend money (like a lot) to feel alive again.
Yes, it’s an addiction, and yes, you’d go to that concert in another country, because you can justify it. What if this is the last tour for a long time? You can’t wait that long. You either buy those tickets and repeat the cycle, or realise that circumstances are out of your control and you’ll just have to make it through until next time. If there will be, a next time.
Eventually all the bad symptoms will fade (not always), and you see your photos from the concert not as soulless reflections of a night you’ll never have again, but as memories, and those memories will sustain you. And next time, you’re more than willing to put yourself through this torture again.
Love, Deem/Skye Lewis ❤
Images source: Pexels