My bedroom (and my office now). I think of this room as “my cocoon.”

My bedroom (and my office now). I think of this room as “my cocoon.”

Recently, I wrote new lyrics for an old song named “This Song Unsung. I renamed it “My Song Unsung.”


That song carries two lines of lyrics that are profound for me. They are:


“I lived wearing a blindfold” and “For years, I made no sound”


Living with a blindfold and making no sound allowed me to stay married for 31 years with an empty relationship.


I was blind to things that upset me and chose to avoid conflict as much as possible.


And for years I truly made no sound, and that was not simply about being unable to sing. It was about the fact that I did not speak my true feelings at all. I kept quiet and suppressed all of my anger. There were few tears, arguments or expression of disappointment. I did not acknowledge the truth.


When I wrote “This Song Unsung” at the age of 17, I was dreaming of romantic love. It wasn’t for any particular person. Another beautiful lyric line from that song was, “He touched me without an embrace.”


Remembering those words caused me sadness, so I eliminated them on my new version.


In my former life, I called my existence “Zombieland.” I was truly like a walking dead person. My existence revolved around pleasing as many people as possible. But I failed miserably with this endeavor, because my husband was deeply unhappy. We barely touched each other.


I dreaded hearing his car enter the garage – all peacefulness within me scattered with the sound of his voice.


With all the energy I expended to take care of so many people, I suffered knowing I was a failure as a wife. My husband was such an unhappy man. He was especially unhappy with the way I took care of the household.


I began to give up, which made things worse.


In my heart, I knew I wasn’t a failure, but it didn’t change the fact that my existence was empty and lonely.

my living room that my oldest son (23) loves. When he first moved in he was deeply depressed.

I share a picture of my rearranged living room that my oldest son (23) loves.

I arrived at George’s guesthouse. I was tired and bleary.

I made sure to park carefully. The week before, I had whacked the curb and broke a plastic shield above the tire. I was very lucky that I hadn’t caused more damage. 

Still it had been very inconvenient. I couldn’t drive too well with it dragging on my tire. George helped tape it up until I was able to get to a mechanic to affix it better and order a new part. But it had come down and I had to call for roadside assistance to come help me a few days later.


At home, I had a broken dishwasher and my kitchen was completely cluttered. Now that I had moved my office into my bedroom, my son had completely spread out in the living room. It had cost several hundred dollars to move my modem and to wire the cable for him (his video game system required it), but it was much better for me as far as concentration went.


A few days after this change in my small apartment, my twenty-year-old daughter announced that she planned to move out the following month. I wished I had known sooner before rearranging so much furniture! I was still processing what this meant, but gave her my support and encouragement. It was a brave thing for her to do this. At the same time, it felt like one of those pivotal “goodbye” moments. I was biting my lip and trembling, while smiling on the outside.

For several weeks, I had spent a great deal of my time doing tax work related to my divorce. My “soon to be ex-husband” had hired a new lawyer and I was sent a subpoena requiring it. It depressed me. I didn’t want to know how much I was spending to run my household now that I had all three of my large children living in a two-bedroom apartment. None of these stressors in my life were major problems. I stayed as positive as possible and put on my blindfold!

I loved my children dearly, but I was definitely frazzled.

In this picture from 19 years ago, I’m holding my daughter and my oldest “surviving” son is next to us. I am sitting on the same bed where I now sleep, in my parents’ old bedroom.

In this picture from 19 years ago, I’m holding my daughter and my oldest “surviving” son is next to us. I am sitting on the same bed where I now sleep, in my parents’ old bedroom.

I was ready to create new music with George. I smiled as I walked in carrying my guitar.

“So I take it we’re working on something new?” he said.

I nodded. “George, I need to – I’m sure it will help me feel better.”

I shared with George how much I appreciated how he had helped me with “My Song Unsung.” I brought with me recordings of the vocal and guitar tracks, which I had recorded the week before.

George put the files into the arrangement and we both listened. He smiled and sighed at the special parts we both loved.

He said, “Well, Jude, you nailed this one. Whatever you did on this – I want you to do it on all your songs!

It felt so great to take in his words.

I told him that since he had helped me finish “My Song Unsung” perhaps it would work again with another unfinished song. It was called, “A Rainbow Through My Tears.”

I loved the title of it. I didn’t usually name my songs before I recorded them, but this one definitely had a name.

I told George that I had heard this song three months earlier, but it didn’t grab me. Actually, the verses were sweet, but the chorus didn’t touch me at all.

I gently fingerpicked the chords to show him and he began to softly tinkle on his piano. I was overwhelmed by the beauty of this new song as the music floated through the room. How could I have thought this song wasn’t worthy?

Now I felt inspired by God again and a smile lit up my face. I couldn’t wait to finish this new song with him over the next few weeks. The lyrics were wonderful and really expressed everything I was feeling.

Even if I couldn’t see the rainbow, it was there. When I couldn’t see it, it was because I was suppressing my feelings.

I planned to write more to express them – and to listen more to Melody.

I still take walks near my old high school whenever possible. But my foggy vision often depresses me.

I still take walks near my old high school whenever possible. But my foggy vision often depresses me.

Remembering how I used to wear a blindfold, triggered many unpleasant memories.


I began to feel as if the fogginess in my vision (due to PVD) wasn’t a curse to remind me of my past. I wished I had the clarity of mind to overcome the intense discouragement that clouded my precious day.


I began to miss Melody. She was always there when I needed her. I remembered how she had rescued me from a deadened existence.

Meldoy and the sunrise.

Melody was very worried about the Princess. The Princess had told Melody that she would not write about the Princess anymore. She wanted to be an ordinary woman, capable of living happily with her newfound freedom.


Melody knew it was because the Princess decided her life was not a fairytale and didn’t want to retreat into a fantasyland.


Yet even though the Princess proclaimed she was stronger than ever, now she was struggling to keep her tears inside. Her heart had become heavy and dark.


Melody waited patiently and stayed close to the Princess. She wove her magic as much as she could, but the Princess was busy and not open to hearing any new melodies.


God told Melody to bless the Princess with a new song to help her.


Melody knew the Princess had received the song, because she heard all the words instantly. It was always that way when the song was a special gift.


But the Princess would not sing this special song, nor allow it into her heart.


Melody wasn’t sure what to do. The Princess did not feel she deserved to be happy because her world was gray and foggy. Imagining a rainbow was just not possible for her.

Melody in my eye

Long before Melody had become a guardian angel for the Princess, the Princess survived because of her blindfold. In addition, the Princess wore thick and heavy armor. It had protected the Princess for many years.

But the armor was becoming heavier and heavier for the Princess. Inside, she was weak and depleted because she rarely took it off. All the constant assault upon her had battered her heart and she was tired.

When God first sent Melody to touch the Princess, the Princess felt her heart beating with excitement and joy. It was something she hadn’t felt for such a long time. Melody’s comfort and magic caused the Princess to radiate passion and rejuvenated her soul.

The Princess remembered how when she was young she didn’t need to wear such heavy armor. On several occasions, the Princess decided to lift the armor off to peak around her. She wanted to shine again.

But each and every time, she became wounded. The Princess decided she would bear the pain; it was preferable to the armor. It was because Melody comforted her and gave her strength.

One day, she was especially joyful. The Dragon came home angry as he usually was.

Without her armor, she could see more clearly. She realized the Dragon did not see her at all. She was invisible to him and only represented disappointment.

The Dragon never told her anything gentle or kind. He did thank her for the many chores she fulfilled, but usually there was another list of things she had done wrong.

What upset her most was that the Dragon’s voice was loud and angry when he spoke to their offspring.

The Princess desperately wanted to use her voice, but it was only a whisper. How could this have happened to her? Was this the way she was supposed to live for the rest of her life?

The Princess decided she did not want to live this way anymore. She begged Melody to help her. What could she do to help herself?

The answer came so easily. She only needed to listen carefully to the music.

Audio link below to share the beauty of a song in progress: 


Loving hands in the garden

© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Judy Unger with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

About Judy

I'm an illustrator by profession. At this juncture in my life, I am pursuing my dream of writing and composing music. Every day of my life is precious!
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  1. jmgoyder says:

    I love reading about your life and how you have lived through such dreadful difficulties. I also love how I can now get audio! You ARE melody – it’s beautiful!


  2. congratulations on the sight that really matters, insight:)


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