When I wrote PTSD I was just trying to explain myself to the world. I was such a broken down piece of shit who didn't have any space in my heart to care about anyone else, and it wasn't always that way, and I wanted to try to explain how it happened. So I tried to tell that part of my life story, the numbness, the abuse of alcohol, the casualness with which I approached dating as new sex partners were the only thing that could fully distract me from my misery, but only for a while. I was trapped in the reality of having my little family self destruct due to my spouse's addiction issues. The opioid epidemic really got us good, it ground us into dust and left my children motherless. It ended up being pretty straight forward and direct but I tried to write that second verse for a whole year. I'd sit down and start to put the words together but I'd be transplanted back in time to that specific overdose and I'd lose myself. I'd wake up a day later on the street. I'd go back and try again and black out once more mid writing and wake up in another city with a random woman having no idea how I got there or how long I'd been dissociated from my body. It hurt. It fucking hurt. Kobe is the only way I got through it. I'd watch his torn Achilles game where he walked to the the free throw on his internally detached foot and drained them both. I'd watch it on repeat with my internally detached heart and then I'd sit down and write again. Repeated that process till one day it was done. It's funny, I feel nothing when I think about that overdose now, but I still cry when I think about that writing process. Still hurts I guess, probably always will.
I recorded PTSD in my bedroom in Bakersfield and emailed it over to Kyle Appleton across town. It was the beginning of the pandemic so we were all sheltering in place. Kyle heard the song and immediately seemed to sonically understand it. He saw right away it was a slow burn kind of song and it needed to build up slow as possible. It's not made for the audience to love it the first time through, it's made to hit them some day when they're in their own room and they feel just as alone and grief stricken as I did and then it's going to come to them and overcome them with a sense of connection and understanding and love. I hope so at least, who knows. But Kyle built a sonic soundscape around it to give it the best chance possible to do it. It's got a sacred sound almost, one that demands you pay attention.