Delete Your Sad girl playlist
You tuck an airpod into your ear the instant the professor has finished speaking; Phoebe Bridgers sets the mood for your walk to the next class. That night you hop into the shower and Sufjan Stevens blares from your bluetooth speaker. When you roll out of bed in the morning, it’s Mitski herself who accompanies you as you make breakfast. The artists vary, the cycle repeats. You are feeling low, you realize one day. You put your airpods back in. This is nothing new to you, after all.
Media is not a passive force in our lives. It has a visible, if not always noticeable impact on the way we interact with the world and the way we perceive ourselves. It affects our identities, and it influences our moods, and music does this with even more ease than other forms of media by providing a soundtrack for our everyday existence and a straightforward way to express the highs and lows we encounter daily. When we’re in pain we seek out art forms where we see that pain reflected back at us; this is a uniquely human attempt to feel less alone. It reminds us that we are never the first to feel this way, whatever way that may be. It becomes dangerous though, as most things do, when we begin to indulge in it excessively.
When we take this desire for expression too far and let our “most listened” on Spotify become a swamp of music designed to match an already diminished mental state, we only dig ourselves deeper into this hole. “I don’t care,” you may be thinking. “I’m already in the hole and digging deeper is easier and more comfortable than climbing out.” I understand. It took me realizing that I was being utterly unfair to myself to make me want to address and change this pitfall in my own life. I would never continue to associate with someone who made me miserable on a daily basis, so why would I do it to myself? Why would I take something with so much potential for joyful expression and twist it to be something that only contributed to my sadness? I deserved better than that, and you do too.
So, what’s the first step to being kinder to yourself even in sadness? I think it’s finding a different avenue of catharsis; we listen to sad music partially because it’s an example of someone else (the artist) expressing the very same negative emotion we are feeling, and it allows us to express it by proxy. We can replicate this catharsis in healthier ways. Here are some things I’ve tried:
Go to the movies! It’s much easier to feel fully invested in a story when it’s your entire field of vision. This is almost guaranteed to get you out of your own head for a while.
I know it’s cliche but try going for a run or speed walk. It’s hard to give into the urge to put on gut-wrenching music when you’re physically outpacing it.
Try out painting or poetry, even if you aren’t at all talented in either area. Remember: it’s self-expression even if it isn’t pretty. This is much more likely to lift your mood than to spiral you further into one.
Make a different playlist. Intentionally choose songs that remind you of happier or more hopeful moments. Play it in the empty moments of your day—your commute, your ten-minute break between classes, your hygiene routine— instead of filling them with songs intended to upset you further.
This is not all to say that you should never listen to sad music. Some of it is stunning and worth listening to, and it can be comforting to hear that you’re not the only person in the world to ever experience loneliness, heartbreak, or whatever else the undertone of the song might be. Just keep in mind that no media consumption is worth your mental health. This is certainly a challenge to remember in 2022, when media consumes almost every waking moment, and the ease of technological access makes it impossible to avoid entirely. Much of this is out of our control, but we can take comfort in the fact that we can at least select our own music. In an age of surround sound, we just have to be cautious of what exactly we choose to surround ourselves with.
Strike Out,
Written by: Sarah Singleton
Graphic by: Hallie Meers
