*A work in progress. Also a working title.
I thought our music would never die
We were a song neither of us knew
the harmony to but
Being caught up in the moments
Moments turn movements
Movements we created with our bodies
To our own beat, in sync
To our own tunes
While the world, our worlds
Seem to crash down all around us
It didn’t matter
Our music lived
and neither of us knew
Well I knew, what it was
Because I fell in love with you…
– Viola Constance
I know that title seems harsh, but it’s fact. It had nothing to do with him being depressed or not being able to deal with whatever may come with that. Heck, I’ve been depressed before and I know that depression affects each person differently as well as each person finding different ways to cope with what their feeling and trying to make sense of it. It’s tough. Anywhos, earlier this month Proud Dad/Long Distant (PD/LD) called me after months of strained communication. During this brief conversation he asked had I ever been depressed to which I’d answered yes (I’d shared this with him before, but did not say that to him). He asked how did I overcome it. I told him I honestly can’t pin point one thing. I told him after some time I was tired of feeling tired, down and feeling sorry for myself. I couldn’t stand being in that state mentally or physically especially when I compared all of the things I’d gone through both good and bad, wanting to end my own life and all I’ve accomplished after the moment I decided to truly live. I’d be fighting hard to live and I had to mentally hype myself up to continue on. I told him I remembered what my mother and so many other black elders had told me and other before, “the worst thing that could happen is they say no” and “a no doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world does it?”. I was literally lying in bed feeling drained from just simple daily tasks (showering, eating and going to work) when I said you know what I’m going to just go for everything I’ve been wanting to do. I’d also decided I’d go sky diving and after not splattering all of the ground I pushed forward. I’d asked PD/LD if any of that even made any sense to him and apologized if I hadn’t been of any help.
I am tired of being tired. I am tired of feeling helpless. I am tired. Enough is enough. In the last few days there have been senseless murders of men at the hands of “law enforcement.” People around the world are all cried out, drained from seeking justice and being met with a new name to hashtag.
So now what?
We march? We pray? We fight?
All the above I guess.