Behind the song: Salem
Salem is a song for all those out there who have been disbelieved, disrespected and mistreated for being sick. Also, it’s International ME awareness month! This is my contribution.
Hi friend!
Exactly a year ago, I released my first single. I remember being frightened. Real frightened. I couldn’t sleep the night before. What would people think? Was it good enough? Was it too political? Not political enough? All the things.
I released it on international ME awareness day, which is today, and I want to honour that day by telling you more about the song.
Salem is a metaphor for how women’s bodies have been neglected by medical science, how patients — including men, transmen and transwomen as well as non-binary people — suffering from diseases disproportionately affecting women were dismissed for being hysterical when in reality our bodies had become ill, and how patients have died without recognition of the true cause.
All income for the first two years (possibly more) will go to Open Medicine Foundation for vital ME/CFS and Long Covid research. You can support the cause by purchasing the music on Bandcamp or iTunes.
If you can’t listen to music, then here are the lyrics.
I wrote this song before I read the statistics and facts about how illnesses disproportionately affecting women such as ME/CFS, Long Covid, fibromyalgia, MCAS, EDS, POTS, migraines, endometriosis, etc., have been neglected and downright dismissed, creating a devastating stigma.
But I had an intuitive inkling that what I was experiencing as a person living with ME/CFS was sexist. How the doctors always said I was perfectly healthy, or ‘just stressed’, or had anxiety when I could barely walk. Or asked me about my mood, gave me depression and anxiety tests, asked about my relationship to my parents, my brother, how I experienced my periods — never asking me about my body. Also, no one knew what was going on.
It all felt sexist.
I had also learnt that people living with ME were being sectioned into psychiatric care, because doctors thought they were delusional, and gave parents (often mothers) a Münchhausen by proxy diagnosis without ever talking to them.
Some people had also died of ME without recognition of the true cause.
We were blamed (and still are) for being overly emotional, for being hysterical, for being science-deniers, for not being able to handle modern life.
It felt like persecution and a complete misunderstanding of who we were and what was happening in our bodies. Everything seemed to be twisted.
I later learnt that my intuitive inkling about sexism was correct.
Since the 1970s, feminist literature has pointed out three problems in health:
How structural sexism creates inequality in the way research funds are prioritised.
That it is most often the white male body and psyche that research takes as its starting point and defines as the norm.
And that women’s illnesses are disproportionately, and often incorrectly, attributed to social or psychological causes.
These three problems have been decisive for the historical stigmatization of ME/CFS patients, as well as other patients living with illnesses that primarily affect women (like Long Covid, fibromyalgia, migraines, endometriosis, and so forth).
For decades, psychological and behavioural research has been prioritised over biological research when it comes to ME (this is the case for other illnesses that primarily affect women, too). We are therefore left without proper treatment.
I felt, in an artistic way, that the misogynistic witch trials in Salem were the root cause of the neglect and disbelief we’ve suffered.
Salem was born in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep. I was angry at being dismissed and gaslighted by doctors and I started seeing women being burnt at the stake inside my mind. I felt a kinship to all those women who were misunderstood and blamed for being female and the words “I still carry their sins” popped into my mind.
Later, the following day, the words “no ashes to ashes or dust to dust” came to me. It spoke of how we were outsiders and weren’t recognised, even in death.
I started researching how women were treated during the Salem witch trials and eventually I had enough notes to start writing the song.
It was an easy song to write. It’s one of those songs that felt like I was born with it inside me, although I know it was created from hard work and a close collaboration with my subconscious.
I play the flute, Jonas Müller (my brother) plays the piano and David Hagen plays the double bass. It is mixed by François Perdriau, and mastered by Pete Maher. I feel so incredibly lucky to be able to have my song accompanied by such excellent musicians. They really brought out the vibe in the song.
All income for the first two years (possibly more) will go to Open Medicine Foundation for vital ME/CFS and Long Covid research. You can support the cause by purchasing the music on Bandcamp or iTunes. You can also help the cause by sharing this wide and far.
Purchase or stream the music here.
Tell me…
What feelings are evoked for you when you hear the song (here are the lyrics)?
Have you experienced sexism — or the consequence of structural sexism — in any setting?
What are your favourite lines from the song?
I’d love to know in the comments below.
