We all face stress in our lives, some have a harder time coping than others do. This being said, we all look for many facets to cope with this stress. But another type some of us face is anxiety. Those with anxiety know just how hard it is to cope with the constant stress and fear of not being good enough, or fearing what other people may think. They understand how debilitating panic attacks become, and would do anything to stop it. I am one of those anxiety sufferers, and for the longest time I have been searching far and wide for an outlet, just to avoid taking medication. That outlet was found my junior year of High School in the one dollar bin. 

You might be wondering, ‘how exactly did you find an outlet in the one dollar bin? Money can’t really buy happiness.’ Well like many High Schoolers, my junior year of High School was the most dreadful. Besides getting ready for college, my emotional and mental state was debilitating. My grades Dropped dramatically, and my home, which was unstructured as is, worsened as my mother and sister began to fight due to a lack of communication. Another factor was the fact that the previous summer prior to my junior year I began working in Brooklyn. During that summer, I made great friends with whom I became closer with than my friend back in New Jersey. I was becoming desperate to find something that would distract me from all that stress. 

 By spring break of 2014, I found myself standing in front a record store, approaching a cardboard box filled with records. After sifting through the boxes after thirty minutes I found two special albums. What I found in the bin were two record albums. These finds, to this day, mean so much to me. The albums that defined my childhood, Boston’s self-titled album Boston, and Billy Joel’s The Stranger. I don’t necessarily mean my younger years, but these albums first became important when I was in Middle school. For these two record sparked my love for classic rock. However, when I bought the two records, becoming a record collector was the last thing on my mind. I initially bought them to hang them on my wall under what room was left on my wall which was completely covered with posters. Curiosity took over, and I began looking at record players, and I found myself watching YouTube videos of record collectors showing off their collections. 

 The thought that once was in the back of my head suddenly rushed to the front of my brain, and I thought, ‘I should start collecting records.’ The very next day I was asking my dad for a record player for the upcoming holiday season. The day my father and I decided on the record player, I began buying records. On that day, almost 8 months before I got a record player placed in my hands, I already bought about five records. I still recall my mom’s doubt when she drove me to the record store. She repeatedly asked, “Rachel, are you sure your dad’s buying you a record player?” Just like a young child that believed absolutely everything people told them, I nodded enthusiastically and bought the records with the money I made during the summer. Every day, I counted down to the day the record player would finally be mine.          Months passed, and finally, December came. My dad handed me a huge box, and I ripped the box to shreds and pulled out my Crosley. Just like a young child, I quickly plugged in the record player, took out Billy Joel’s Glass Houses, and began playing one of my all-time favorite song, ‘Its still rock and Roll to me.’ The excitement I felt when I first spun the album, has remained. One question still lingers, however, how exactly did collecting records help with my anxiety? Even more importantly, other than leaving my wallet empty, and taking up space in my closet, how did this addicting hobby change my life? We all want to feel accepted and have the feeling of belonging. This is something I have lacked for many years and still feel this even today. Growing up, I was bullied relentlessly, and my family life wasn’t exactly as structured and close as many of us wished it would be. 

My parents divorced when I was nine years old, and just like many new kids, adjusting to a new school wasn’t so easy. I had great difficulty making new friends, and relating to peers. I was also severely socially awkward, which kept many people away from me. Of course, this left me questioning people’s motives, and sometimes distancing myself from people. So finding a niche I was able to relate to was extremely challenging. I had a few small niches growing up, and one of those niches was the school’s music program. Growing up, I took part of many musical groups and spent my entire High School life living in the band room. Yes, this gave me some feel of family, but not much. To this day, I only speak to one person I met in this program, and that is my best friend. However, when I joined the record collecting community, I felt a greater level of belonging. 

All around me were those who loved music. And it was more than just peers, the ages ranged from elementary school kids whose parent’s got them involved in collecting, to baby boomers who never got tired of these plastic disks that can be destroyed with one small scratch across the groove. No matter with who you strike up a conversation with, it feels as if you are talking to a long lost family member. And the conversations aren’t only about music. Sometimes it turns into something more personal, as people talk about how a record caused them to meet someone special. Even how much like my situation, it gave a person, a community which offered that feeling of belonging. For me, collecting created quite a few new found friendships. 

The first friend I ever made when I began to collect records was one I met online in the Fall of 2013. We both shared a mutual taste in classic rock, and coincidentally, both loved Billy Joel and Meatloaf (I wouldn’t say loving these two artists is the correct term to use), I remember sending him pictures of my new found Billy Joel and Meat Loaf finds making him envious, and he sent me records that he had which I lacked. Another time records have struck friendship was this year. A few friends in my music class and I decided to leave class, thirty minutes earlier to take a drive to the town’s local record store. Just that trip brought us closer together as we shared albums that we liked, and from there got to know each other. 

Besides creating friendships and relationships, bonds with record store owners are formed. Other than classic rock and jazz records, I love underground and graveyard records. One particular thrift shop located in Brooklyn, NY has just that. It’s just about the size of two garages (including the top and bottom floor) and records are sold for only $2 apiece. I have been making frequent stops there as I would visit the city over breaks. The owner never failed to forget me. This had such a profound effect on me as I was always forgotten about, and abandoned by ‘friends’ growing up. 

Whenever I visited, we always catch up on what’s going on in our lives. He often recommends to me music and movies to watch, concert venues I should check out in and around the city, and likewise I give him emerging bands and movies, he should check out. I even visit my local record store so often, that the workers there already know what records I will buy, and every once in a while will tell me what they have stocked, and recommend me a record I should buy and listen to. All of these factors helped me with my anxiety. It helped me create stronger relationships with people, even though I am still afraid to get close to people, just so I can avoid the pain of abandonment just in case those people leave my life. 

The feeling of family and belonging helped me forgive people who hurt me and try to rebuild friendships with those who I hurt. Collecting has also caused me to expand my musical taste and has a deeper appreciation for different genres and artists. The album art is probably one of the biggest things that attract me to an album. Every album has their own unique touch on their covers. Even some of the dust jackets of the newer albums are artistically done giving the album a much more personal feel to it. Even the record themselves are artistically designed. Some records have a colored wax on it. You can find a new pressing of an older album, where the album is red, or green instead of the original black color. Some of the newer albums even have various designs on them. One of the most exciting attributes that records offer is the exhilaration one has when they find the record they have been searching for. 

 It becomes even more exciting when you find the record at a reasonable price. When you finally purchase the record, you rush home just to place it on the turntable. Whether it’s a used or new album, each one has its own individual feel to it. When you pull a used record out of its sleeve the aroma of age and dust all the room. Simply because it’s used you need to clean off the record before spinning just to spare your needle and the record itself from getting any scratches. Once you place the needle ever so gently on the groove, there’s a short moment of silence where all you hear some crackles, and then the warm sound of analog emits from the speakers.

Once the first side of that album is over, you can’t just stay where you sat, you have to get up and flip the record over to continue the album. For the newer albums, you have to remove the cellophane wrapping, and sometimes crossing your fingers hoping that the album comes with a free MP3 download of the song and on occasion the entire album. Sometimes taking out the poster which comes with the album and hanging it on your wall. Then you need to remove the album from its temporary sleeve, just to place the record into the new, better-designed dust sleeve. Then lastly you place the album on your record, and dust it off just to keep the record from scratching and remaining in the same condition as it did when you first got it. Even though the record is brand new and free of dust (for the most part) you’ll still hear some kind of scuffled noise, and then the music begins. Once again, you’re in a different world, listening to that song you hear on the radio on a different kind of format. 

That ladies and gentleman, is the story of how records have changed my life forever. To this day, I still can’t believe it started when I spotted the one dollar bin in front of a record store in East Village, NY with old cardboard boxes just taking their last breaths before collapsing under the weight of all the records which it held. I would never have thought that two albums would expand to about two-hundred with more than just classic rock. While I do risk eviction with every new record, I buy, simply because my mom isn’t happy with the amount of space they take up, it’s something I love more than anything. There is however one more lesson the hobby has taught me. It has taught me something I wish I realized two years ago. 

 A lesson that many of us try to learn well into our adult life. That lesson is learning that we’re not perfect and stressing out never helps. Even though I learned this lesson, I’d be hypocritical if I were to retort that I follow this lesson in everyday life. Even now I am filled with self-doubt, and the need to strive for perfection still suffocate everything I do. The lesson came from the idea of having to lift the needle of the record when you have to leave the room in order to do something. When you lift the needle the song stops. You can’t pause it and play it back when you return from doing whatever you had to do. Instead you have to repeatedly look for the spot where you left off. 

 This idea has a lot to do with how we live our lives and deal with stress. Much like needing to lift the needle and stop the song, that’s how life is. There are times in your life that your everyday routine will change because life happens, and sometimes stops because of family, stress, or even life itself. That is completely alright, and once you get through it you start the song again. And while it’ll be hard to start again where you left off you have three options, keep trying until you find that number, start the song all over again. Or just simply, move on to the next song. It’s only human to fear change, and for the most part it’s inevitable, but it’ll help with the stress, anxiety and loneliness you feel as you move along.