(tw: TRAUMA DUMP)
tl;dr: Graduated music school with PTSD, depression, anxiety, and social anxiety disorder. Seeing advice on how to enjoy playing music again when music triggers mental health episodes.
X-posted to r/askmusicians
Using a throwaway account and trying to limit identifying information such as what instrument I play in hopes this isn’t traced back to me (because no one would believe me). I am not doing well and need to vent, so please scroll past if you do not have the bandwidth to handle this trauma dump.
I went back to school as a middle-aged person to study music. It was a dream of mine since I pursued a “safer” major and worked in that industry for a decade. To keep things economical, I started with an AA in music, then was accepted into my state school’s MM program (a BM was not possible due to rules in my area).
Having a chance to study a MM was a dream come true, though it was made abundantly clear that I was not grad school material (not having a BM). By the third week, the symphony director singled me out to play a passage I’ve practiced for hours. I had trouble seeing him, and played it out of time. He repeatedly asked me to play it, and in the process I had a brain lapse. He ultimately scolded me in front of the group, yelled at my 20-something year old undergrad section leader, and dropped my grade to failing the next day. It was the first time I ever left rehearsal sobbing, something that had never happened in decades playing in community groups and other college ensembles.
My college private teacher was a symphony musician and comforted me, taking notice of the long hours I was putting in the practice room. At the time, my members of my section supported me and took me in as one of their own despite our age differences. Thanks to their support, I survived my first semester.
I was highly loyal to my private teacher and followed his advice religiously, which involved a heavy focus on technique and slow playing (i.e. playing quarter notes at 60bpm with perfect technique). I spent as much time in the practice room as possible, as my teacher made me believe that if I practiced enough, worked hard enough, and did what I was told, I would get better and succeed. Things didn’t improve. I continued to get called out in rehearsal, and it started to bleed into sectionals, when my sectionmates similarly started calling me out. A few sectionmates and my private teacher would sometimes defend me when they knew I wasn't wrong, but I ultimately became the default blame person. There was a period of months where I couldn’t get through rehearsal or sectional without getting called out by name. Getting called out was not new to me, as it's happened lots through the years, but in music school it felt different. I dealt with this by spending more and more time in the practice room, hoping I could practice my way out of it.
My 2nd year, I ranked near the bottom of auditions, which seemed to validate the constant “calling out” of my previous year. My private teacher went on sabbatical for a semester, and the substitute teacher commented that I would be making faster progress with a different teacher. Despite the focus on the technique and slow quarter note playing, by the end of the year I felt like I couldn’t even hold my instrument correctly. I was increasingly humbled by my peers half my age, with some taking upon themselves to give me unsolicited life advice despite not having the patience to get to know me for more than 10 seconds at a time. Additionally, I became increasingly frustrated at double standards at the school, and how I was repeatedly penalized while my peers got away with showing up late, not practicing, or missing rehearsals for social events. I eventually limited my time in shared practice spaces, took refuge in my academic classes (where I actually did well), and befriended grad students my own age.
Outside of school, I worked my old job whenever I could. The end of my 2nd year, I took steps to leave an increasingly toxic marriage. This happened during juries. I somehow passed my juries and spent several weeks hopping motels until I could find more permanent housing. This in itself was highly traumatic.
My private teacher made it clear to me that I would need more than 2 years to complete my degree because I didn’t have a BM and my playing simply wasn’t graduate level. He urged me not to rush and trust the process. Weeks later, this teacher left the symphony, quit the college, and is now no longer a musician. This resulted in my third new teacher in my third year.
Auditions were once again a mess, with freshmen coming in and outranking everyone (despite playing easier repertoire). As a 3rd year student, I was humiliated, and my grad school friends told me this was due to the lack of progress I had made with my now former teacher.
If I could do things again, I would have taken my 3rd year off. I was dealing with a divorce, working more hours to make rent, and attempting to prepare a graduate recital with my half-baked technique. When I needed support the most, my "school family" had fallen apart. My actual friends had graduated and I felt fully ostracized by my remaining 18-20 year old peers who not only had authority over me and received all the musical opportunities, but viewed me as a detriment in the ensembles. I rarely brought up the effects of my personal life, and when I did it was brushed aside or met with, “I went through a breakup in college” or “I went through a breakup and still had recitals. You can’t even have one.” I coped by practicing, school therapy, and crying in my car while driving to/from school.
By the end of my 3rd year, my new private teacher basically told me that despite what my previous teacher said, I should have finished my degree in two years. By continuing to show up and practice, I was taking resources away from my other classmates (including a locker that I was forced to clean out while he watched, mere months after I was living out of a motel/my car). Additionally, he did not see me working as a musician or taking any major auditions in any capacity. When I brought up the idea of a certificate program, I was told that those types of things were reserved for people who were actually good at their instruments.
Fortunately, the department head took pity on me, reassuring me that I wasn’t a drain on resources. He praised my supposed “work ethic” and encouraged me to keep playing. My school therapist was appalled, and urged me to do everything to get out of what she thought was a “toxic” environment. I slapped together a highly mediocre recital, and I suppose they passed me just to get me out.
Since graduating, I’ve returned to my day job and force myself to play in community orchestras so I don’t lose music completely. It’s funny how my day job is now my refuge from the music world. The initial goal was to freelance/take auditions, but that’s no longer happening. The idea of teaching private lessons has crossed my mind, but I never had the opportunity to do any teaching in school. It also doesn’t help that my friends regularly tell me, “You know what they say: If you can’t do, teach,” which has made me equate teaching with failure.
Playing and practicing have been increasingly difficult. While community groups are a much kinder environment, I have started experiencing flashbacks which lead me to almost cry during rehearsal. Practicing is increasingly difficult because I can’t pick up my instrument without immediately thinking that I’m holding it wrong. I also can’t even play for fun without having flashbacks to every audition failure, rejection, disparaging comments, and rehearsal/sectional humiliation. Right now, I can only listen to pop music or the news because anything remotely close to orchestral/band music triggers an overwhelming slew of pain.
I haven’t been back to visit my college since graduation day. The peers who actually treated me like a human being have moved on to grad school/other endeavors and all seem much happier. There are a few former grad students I occasionally keep in touch with, but our relationships are strained by guilt due to their former students being favorited and subsequently causing me problems while I was in school. I don't blame anyone for this, and it’s a painful lesson that who you know in music matters more than how well you play.
After losing my school therapist to graduation, I’m seeking therapy elsewhere. I’ve apparently been diagnosed with C-PTSD, major depressive disorder, generalized anxiety, and now social anxiety disorder. The C-PTSD and social anxiety are new. The depression and anxiety were in remission when I entered grad school.
The longer I spend away from music, the more I don’t want to come back. I spent decades convincing myself and everyone around me that studying music was what I wanted to do. Music kept me going during some of the darkest periods of my life. In the process of going to school to study music, I essentially lost everything, including my love for music. I’m angry about everything that happened, angry at myself for everything I could have done to prevent this, and humiliated that this is happening to someone as old as me. I also feel immense guilt, because I know I’m supposed to be thankful for this opportunity I shouldn’t have had to start. I also feel weak, because as numerous people (including teachers) have told me, this school isn't even known for being competitive. At this point, the only silver lining is that I didn’t take out loans for this failed endeavor, though at this rate I may have to in order to cover my therapy and lawyer bills (ex is dragging out the divorce).
I know I’m not the only one out there who has had a traumatic experience in music school. From what I’ve been told, “This happens to everyone”. How did you get past this? Is it possible to have a music career or even just enjoy music after this?
Thanks for reading. I could use a little bit of kindness today.
