Paramore, After Laughter, and Hope: A Story

A tale of graduate school, sorrow, hope, and an odyssey to the pharmacy.

Trigger Warning: There is an allusion to self-harm in this passage. I am fine now! Don’t worry, Mom!

It is a bone-chilling December morning in Clifton, Cincinnati, Ohio. A foot of snow lay on the ground following the previous night’s blizzard. The city declares a public emergency, and all non-essential personnel are barred from the roads.

Unfortunately- I am out of my ADHD meds. I cannot function as a human being without ADHD meds. Due to state laws on controlled substances, I can’t receive a refill on my prescription until– you guessed it– that morning. Pharmacies and grocery stores are still open. Thank goodness.

I stumble out of my ratty government-subsidized apartment and walk the twelve feet from the entrance to my rusty 2003 Honda Civic. It’s cold – the wind chill is around 23 below zero. Even with the short walk, my snot freezes to the edges of my nose. At least I don’t have to worry about unlocking the doors, since they don’t work anyways. The only thing in that car that works properly was the CD player, and for that I am thankful.

I start the car, and after a bit of protesting from the engine living far beyond its use, the car revs up. I am greeted with a hazy, distorted wind chime sound and groovy new-wave guitars as Paramore’s “Pool” plays out of the cheap static speakers.

As if the first cut wasn't deep enough

I dove in again 'cause I'm not into giving up

Could've gotten the same rush from any lover's touch

Why get used to something new?

'Cause no one breaks my heart like you

Pool

Hayley Williams sings with a ferocity and conviction. After Laughter is an album full of catchy hooks, funky chords, and words of desperation as we deal with life’s troubles in a societally approved way. We must smile through the pain. Pretend like everything is OK when all is falling apart.

My life, at this time, is falling apart. I just finished my first semester of graduate school. Teaching two classes, working with the basketball team, and the most grueling Comm program in the country (Yes, communication can be grueling– I promise!) is starting to take its toll on me.

In three short months I dropped from 165 pounds to 145, had eight cavities that with no hope of filling, never felt more lonely in a new city, and was fighting the urge to do— dark, irreversible things to myself.

Much like Paramore, I am clinging to the last thread of hope– one more day– one more chance at a better tomorrow– it can keep a person going far longer than they have any right to.

Hold on to hope if you got it

Don't let it go for nobody

They say that dreaming is free

But I wouldn't care what it cost me

26

I still have glimmers of hope. Hope of one day working in college basketball. Hope that one day I could look in the mirror and like the person in the reflection. Hope that we don’t have to assume the worst will happen, because good things CAN happen. Hope is what keeps a person going even when all else is lost.

There is little margin for error. One financial slip-up and I can’t pay rent. One day without ADHD meds and my withdrawal makes me a shell of a human being. One wrong turn of the steering wheel and I am sliding into twelve cars. If there is a light at the end of the tunnel, it’s not visible to the naked eye.

What little light that's left, we need to keep it sacred

I know that you're afraid to let all the dark escape ya

But we could let the light illuminate these hopeless places

Idle Worship

My tires screech as I slip and slide through the hills and crevices of Southwestern Ohio, hoping that I can get to the pharmacy in one piece. What is normally a five minute drive becomes twenty as I carefully maneuver through parked traffic, icy roads, and a society that has a luxury I do not have– the ability to pause for self-preservation.

I hold on to hope, pick up my meds and make it through another day. If we can make it through today, we can make it through anything.

Seven years later and we’ve had more hard times. COVID all but eradicated my chance at breaking into college hoops at a young age. I moved five times, was laid off twice (am unemployed as I write this), and faced more adversity than even my 23-year-old bottomed out self could imagine.

Tell my friends I'm coming down

We'll kick it when I hit the ground

Hard Times

However, there is more joy in my life than ever before. I finally live in a city I love. I get to coach high school basketball, helping angsty teenagers learn to work together to deal life’s obstacles and create something greater than themselves. I hope they develop skills that will help them avoid the loneliness I felt in that brutal winter of 2017. Things are not perfect, and quite frankly— they might not even be “good,” but I like the person in the mirror and have full faith that there are better tomorrows.

Never lose hope. Life doesn't always get easier– you just get better at dealing with adversity. After Laughter is an album about holding onto hope— hope that is often mistaken for delusion, as it sometimes takes delusion in upbeat, New Wave grooves to counteract the hell that is inside your heart.

I am thankful for this album for getting me through some of my darkest moments, and am grateful that there is in fact a light at the end of the tunnel, even if the light comes with pitfalls, jagged rocks, and microplastics.

Give After Laughter a listen if you know what hard times feel like, and smash that subscribe button below if you want to read more music-adjacent diatribes.