The Ballad of Barnum

What happens when a singer loses his voice. Fil-Am singer-songwriter Michael Barnum writes from the heart.

Imagine waking up one morning and realizing the gift you feel that was given to you went away suddenly. Your life’s purpose, the one thing that keeps you going every day—stolen. Like a thief in the night, snatched right before your eyes. Imagine not being able to do the one thing that you love. Well, that’s something I can heavily relate to at this moment in my life. 

Okay, here’s the story:

I lost my voice. 

And the ability to sing the way I used to. 

In 2022, I used my voice the most I have ever had in my entire life. I did everything with it. I played gigs, and went into voiceover work, all the while live streaming, being a musical artist, and pursuing other creative endeavors. You name it. I did it all. For some context, one of the biggest projects I worked on required me to record and produce up to 15 songs a day for the duration of 3 months for a high-profile client. As you can imagine, this was a dream job. But it was a lot on my voice and my mental health. And while I was in the thick of it, I didn’t quite think of the toll it might take on my overall physical health. I was just excited to work and make a rather good chunk of change. 

When that project finally wrapped up, without any breaks, around summertime, I quickly signed on to play a weekly gig at a hotel from July-September. Musicians, you know how good it is to have a weekly gig with guaranteed pay. Plus tips? Another dream. The income was good, but now, almost a year later, my voice simply put: is not what it used to be. Around July of 2022, I slowly started realizing this and at first, I didn’t want to admit that I was going through a vocal injury because I can usually bounce back from these things within a few weeks, days even. My voice, the sole source of everything I do as a performer, is simply not the same and it hasn’t been for months. 

In August 2022, I was advised by my vocal coach to seek an ENT (Ear, Nose, & Throat Doctor). And around December of last year, after going through rounds of finding the right help, I’ve been in and out of ENT offices trying to get answers and the biggest thing I keep hearing from everyone is, “rest.” The word brutal doesn’t even begin to cut it. But here’s the million-dollar question: how does one “rest” when the source of how I make a living is centered around my voice? 

“Without my voice, who am I?”

Currently, I am on medication to help the inflammation of my vocal cords, and I’m also seeing a vocal therapist weekly to help regulate my vocal health through various exercises to help bring my voice back gradually. I’ve been making progress slowly, but we’re not quite out of the woods yet. I am not fully recovered. And I’m not sure when my voice will be back 100%.

Because of this, I’ve since had to pick and choose the gigs I can take, and now have to be really mindful of how and when I choose to use my voice while keeping in mind what I choose to put into my body. 30s aren’t my 20s, that’s for sure. 

So, if I have been quiet lately, or have not been out socially, or have opted out of hanging out, or working creatively with other people, that is why. Honestly, this takes a huge toll on your mental health and for a good while, I completely shut down and closed myself from the world. And, here’s what I’ve learned: my voice is a huge part of my life, but as much as that is true, my voice is not all of me. 

I have so much more to offer to the world. So many more stories I want to tell. And other creative avenues I’d like to explore with or without my voice. 

I debated about posting this or being “vocal” about my condition because to be honest, I felt ashamed. I am a singer and a performer at heart, and truthfully, right now, with my vocal condition, I don’t feel as though I can truly own the title of a singer. There are days where it's easy, but most days, it’s just really hard to even hold a note. Not to mention, the mental game of it all. To my fellow Singers and Performers—you can imagine just how hard this is. 

I want to make it clear that I’m not in any physical pain at all. It doesn’t hurt to talk or try to sing. How I can best describe it is feeling like there’s a wall blocking my voice from its greatest potential. Like you don’t have as much control over how it operates as you used to. It feels as though I’ve had to get rid of what I know about singing and start all over. 

Lastly, if you made it this far, Thank You. To those that have supported and continue to support my creative endeavors, Thank You. Trust me, when my voice is back, we will celebrate and I’ll sing everywhere everything, and anytime I can. But right now, in this season of stillness, I have to take it easy, rest as much as I can, and give myself grace. I can still sing and perform, but not all the time. You can’t get rid of the performer in me. I’m learning to embrace the cards I’ve been dealt and be in the presence of now. That has been my ultimate challenge. And I intend on not only defeating it but coming out stronger than ever before. To anyone that may be going through anything similar, you are strong and you’ll get through it. And know that you’re not alone. 

About the Author:

Michael Barnum is a singer-songwriter born and raised in Southern California and known to fans worldwide for his live streams on Twitch (10.1K followers). With Pop, R'n'B, and Folk influences, he’s released two albums “Trust” and “Breaking Habits” accumulating over a quarter-million streams across all streaming platforms. His latest single, the 80’s-pop-infused anthem "Sometimes," is out now. Follow him on Instagram and Twitch @Barnumichael