My dad was a muscial fascist. He only listened to old school country and western music. He liked it loud so everyone had to hear it. I wasforced to hear it from the time I was born until 1988. In the summer of 88 I got to go live with my grandparents in Phoenix AZ. This was due to the fact that dad and myself were clashing a lot. I was starting to do a lot of weird things that he didn't know how to handle; turned out that it was OCD.
That summer my cousin turned me onto to my first punk rock record. "Give 'em Enough Rope" by the Clash. I had no idea what I was hearing or what "punk" meant but I liked it; a lot. The music helped with my OCD but I didn't know why. Armed with this knowledge I tried to get my hands on as much punk music as I could. I started to listen to: Bad Religion, Black Flag, The Jam, The Damed, Generation X, DOA, The Dead Boys and the kings of it all the Sex Pistols. Punk spoke to the anti-establishment, anti-authority, and anti-parental-expectation feelings that I harbored. Punk music became my obsession to fight my obsessions. It became a weapon to fight my OCD.
I started school in Phoenix and hooked-up with other misfits. They accepted me for who I was and didn't judge me for the things I did (complusions, rituals, germs and so forth) Of course we clashed with the jocksa lot so we dubbedour group "the avante guards.' ( I know that is a stupid ass name so laguh if you want, I do) Most of the guys in the group were artists, skaters, or played some kind of musical instrument.
I was into art myself. And it started to be evident that I had some natural talent for it. But I just wanted to do a specific kind of art. I only wanted to do weird abstract things with a lot of sharp angles. My teachers tried to get me to do other things but I revolted and gave it a half assed attempt. Deep down I wanted to produce the art but It didn't feel right or look right and I had a hard time because It just didn't make sense to me. The school talked to mygrandparents, my grandparents wanted me to go see a doctor (Because by then the OCD was getting out of control) I refused and started to smoke high grade marijuana to self medicate. I stayed in my art classes but still wouldn't produce the work they wanted me to. I started to listen todarker music also. A year later something had to be done about my OCD and consumption of high grade marijuana buds. I agreed to go see a doctor. The first one ended-up being a jerk. He made me feel like a criminal. I refused to take his drugs. Went to see another doctor; she was a lady. SHe was easy to talk to and understood where I was coming from. I started drug therapy. The first shot was horrible. We tried another drug that worked better but I was still having problems. She was brave enough to throw a benzo in the mix that worked really well. It was like vitimins for my brain.
Over the course of a year everyone started to notice a change in my disposition. My taste in music also started to change. Of course this was in 90-91 the last great period for rock music. The first Pearl Jam CD, Nirvana's debut, the good Sound Garden CD, Ministry, White Zombie was born, Rage Against the Machine redefined rap music. It dawned one me one day thatI was really starting to love diffrent genres of music. I started to realized that beforeI was takingmedication I was nothing more than a musical fascist just like my dad..And If I hadn't started taking meds I would of missed out on musical history and laughed at groups like Nirvana and so forth.
Now days my musical taste cover a wide range and music is still veryimportant to me. Sure I still listen to some punk music but I'm not obessed with it or a fascist about it. If u browsed my ipod today you would find stuff from TI, John Couger, Punk, Indie and so forth. I was able to start doing other kinds of art also. Long story short is that meds will work to change ur perspective on many things.
As for the "avante guards," everyone ended up going thier separte ways. Some went to art school, some went out to LA to try and get into a band, a few ended-up getting killed (one self -inflicted). I sit back sometimes and wonder what would of happened to me without the meds. Would of I become a fascist old man who lived in denial of my mental illness. Drug over dose maybe, self inflicted gun shot wound to the head? I'll never know. I just know my life is better off with meds.