Ever feel like life’s just piling it on, and you’re sinking deeper by the day? Yeah, me too. Some days, it’s like the world’s gone out of its way to knock me down. Over the past few years, I’ve lost people I love, been pushed out of an industry I gave 25 years to, and watched my life savings disappear. Twice, I even lost what felt like the love of my life. And you know what? For the longest time, I blamed myself for all of it.
I’d carry the weight of things I couldn’t control—other people’s decisions, their words, their actions—like they were somehow all my fault. And while I’ll own up to my share of mistakes, I finally reached a point where I had to let go of the things that weren’t mine to carry. It’s not easy, but I’ve learned that you’ve got to draw the line somewhere and stop taking on the baggage other people throw your way.
So, how do I process the heavy stuff—the things that bubble up and threaten to pull me under? I write. Writing is my way of dealing, of unpacking what’s weighing on my mind. And often, it’s a way of connecting to things I know other people are feeling too.
When I wrote Diggin’ a Hole, I was at one of the lowest points in my life. I felt lost, lonely, and completely drained of hope. The future seemed like a concept meant for other people, not me. At that time, I had no goals, no direction, and no one I felt could really understand where I was coming from.
But I did have my music. Music has always been my lifeline. It’s what I turn to in moments of joy and, more often than not, in times of struggle. Writing songs is my therapy—it’s how I vent, how I process, and ultimately, how I heal.
Diggin’ a Hole came from a dark place. It’s about feeling so low that it’s like you’re digging your own grave, sinking further into despair with each passing day. But here’s the twist: I paired that heavy subject with an upbeat rhythm. I love the contrast of wrapping a tough message in a lively melody. For me, it’s like a musical version of “fake it till you make it.” And in this case, it worked. Writing this song—and giving it that unexpected energy—was a step toward pulling myself out of that hole and feeling human again, for better or worse.
When I first wrote the song, it was much slower, more reflective. But something in me wanted to shake things up. I sped up the rhythm, and that’s when it all clicked. The song came alive in a whole new way, and so did I. It’s funny how something as simple as changing a tempo can reframe everything. That shift in perspective didn’t just transform the song—it helped shift me.
If you’ve been through tough times recently, I want you to know you’re not alone. I’ve been there, too. And while I don’t have all the answers, I hope my music can be a source of connection and comfort. There are people out there who care, and I’m one of them. If nothing else, let’s keep digging together—until we find the light again.
—Satch Wakefield