#hardtimes

Glenn Danzig and Henry Rollins, Hard Times Zine, October 1984

To properly describe the way Preacher’s Daughter has been imprinted into my heart, I can only begin by explaining the things that I’ve experienced in my lifetime that Hayden’s music has immensely helped me grieve and process. To give you the rundown on who I am, I’m a gay, neurodivergent, and ex-Christian teenage boy, who was raised in an Evangelical Christian family in absolutely-nowhere, Florida. The dots connect themselves, but nothing has ever encapsulated this niche of my life like Hayden’s work on Preacher’s Daughter has. The first time I resonated with her music was just last autumn, when I had left my home to live with my father. I was fighting with my mother, to the point of severe mental dysfunction, and I had listened to Family Tree (Intro) for the first time. Hayden sings, “Jesus can always reject his father— but he cannot escape his mother’s blood”. I was left in complete awe. I had found an album that would change my life, with songs that would help me to put my experiences into words as haunting as my memories.

Not to mention, the storytelling of Ethel’s life is outstanding. The complexity of an album about parent failures and unreliable narratives and religious trauma woven into a twisted story of a young girl groomed into carnage is unmatched. Ethel Cain is brought to life and portrayed so personally that a listener can’t help but relate to her. Of course, not *every* listener is going to relate, as there is still extremely sensitive subject matter, which Hayden worked on with an impressive amount of respect and nuance.

I think one of the most underrated songs on the album is Hard Times. Not only is it a vulnerable look into the troubles of Ethel Cain, but it’s a relatable highlight to a core childhood wound of hers. Something about the acoustic strumming and Hayden’s strong humming feels like the burning pain of missing the “good” version of somebody. While there are multiple people this song has helped me grieve, I’ll talk about how I can relate to Ethel herself. As I previously mentioned, I lived with my father for a couple months. For most of my life, I strongly disliked my father. On my middle school graduation day, years ago, he had told me that he knew I was gay, and that he accepted and supported me. My entire relationship with him changed. Over 2 years later, I moved in with him, he became him again, and it wasn’t meant to be. I’m safe, and I’ve moved, but ever since I left I’ve had this burning sense of infancy that comes and goes—remembering what it felt like to hate my father during my childhood.

As one does, I grieve through music. Hayden sings, “I’m tired of you, still tied to me”, in a way that grasps my heart like the unbudging tether between father and child. She disappears into character and the song turns into another teenager my age, singing words we both know by heart.

that was the essay about the album in general…kind of just like a part 1 though.

this next essay is about televangelism but ties off the responses as a pair as well

Televangelism. With 11/13 tracks of an album packed with haunting lyrics like “Freezer bride, your sweet divine / You devour like smoked bovine hide / How funny, I never considered myself tough” (Strangers), & “Don’t worry ‘bout it too hard or you’ll never sleep a wink at night again / Don’t worry ‘bout me and these green eyes / Mama just know that I love you / I’ll see you when you get here” (also Strangers), it’s shocking to say I’m going with an instrumental track. . There is just something so deeply somatic about Hayden’s music. I can recall in my darkest moments in my time living at my father’s, laying in my bed with my headphones on listening to Televangelism, disassociating to the lights on my ceiling. I remember, it was a lot colder because my bedroom was in the garage and it was the middle of winter. I liked it cold, though. I would put on my headphones and listen to Televangelism on loop, feeling the warmth of Ethel’s ascension to Heaven fill my ears and radiate down my spine. It was escapism, survival even. It took my mind off of where I was and reminded me there was better days ahead.

To fully communicate the extent of Televangelism’s impact on me, I want to be very vulnerable about some of the things I have went through. If religious trauma is a sensitive subject I apologize in advance.

I grew up having nearly-daily panic attacks because of the things I had been taught about the Christian God. From 9 years old up to around this time last year, I would go in and out of having major panic attacks about going to hell or being left behind in the rapture. After the resolution of a religious psychosis episode in summer of last year, I had discovered information that had broken the hold that the Christian religion had on me, and I began to heal from my religious trauma.

While “Preacher’s Daughter” as a whole has played a role in my healing process, Televangelism stands out above all tracks. A song composed so beautifully it mimics the sensation of ascending to Heaven, signifying the end of Ethel Cain’s suffering on Earth. It is identical to the feeling of being without extreme fear and anxiety that I discovered for the first time last year. Every time I listen to Televangelism, I get to remember how it felt to discover that my existential worst fear was made up all over again. It was bliss. It was grief. It was heartbreaking, and it was life-changing. This album, while thematically centered around death, symbolizes the magnificence of creation, and how awesome it is to have the ability to bring the story of a character like Ethel Cain to life. I believe that if there is a God out there, “Preacher’s Daughter” was the apology for everything I’ve ever had to grow through.

My 6 year old has been having a tougher time so I got a picture printed and put on his wall with Blanca's collar beside it ❤️

I'm trying the best I can to keep up with the kids and rent and everything on my own.

I have one more installment of $244.84 to pay to the vet and I would really really appreciate any help with this... it would really help take some stress off of me...

I would be so grateful

So, my mom once told me I “don’t have anger issues.” This is a lie. A cruel, misleading, false statement. Let me explain.

I bought three Disney mystery bags (yes, the ones where you never get the character you want, always a tragic twist), one for me and one for each of my little brothers. I was super excited. Like, genuinely hyped. Finally, a little dose of joy in the form of a weird plastic figure I can throw in a drawer until I forget about it—classic me. Anyway, I open my bag, and I get Goofy. So I’m thinking, alright, fine. Not the dream, but whatever.

Then my younger bro gets Edna Mode. And I'm like, okay, not bad, she’s iconic, I get it. But also—NO. Because I wanted Edna. So, I asked my little bro if he’d like to trade. He said, “No.” And let me tell you, that is when something in me snapped.

I got angry, I threw the toy on the floor (very dramatic, very effective), stormed away, and now I'm currently sitting in my car. Alone. Having just inhaled the donut that was meant for him. Yeah, I said it. A donut. It was blue, with white sprinkles, and it was meant for him... but I ate it. In less than 30 seconds. I don't know what happened. One second it was in my hands, the next, it was gone. And now, he’s going to find out there was a donut and I ate it, but he doesn’t even know it existed.

He doesn’t even know who Edna Mode is! But I’m sitting here, full of regret, wondering why I threw my toy on the floor and why I shoved a donut into my mouth with the ferocity of someone who just got betrayed by Goofy.

But hey, I’m self-reflecting, right? This is growth. Paramore is on, I'm listening to “Hard Times,” and I’m thinking, “Yeah, life’s hard. But at least I’m becoming self-aware.”So to sum up:I won’t ever touch Goofy again.

I’m not telling my mom because she’ll take away my phone and ground me forever (I know, I’m 21, but I’m still a child in her eyes).I’m going to eat my second brother’s donut later (he also got Goofy, which... makes me wonder if Goofy is just my nemesis at this point).And finally, Hard Times and me? We’re one now.