I’ve been dealing with depression ever since I was about 21, when my father passed away. Waking up to a thump in the middle of the morning is never a sound you want to hear when dealing with sick/disabled parents. I remember everything so clear, and it haunts me up to this day. As I’m waiting for the paramedics to arrive I started performing CPR on my dad. I know how much time the human body can be without oxygen and I did not want to take any chances. It seemed like the paramedics were taking forever, my sister is right next to me, and my sick mom is sleeping in the next room. At this point, it was just way too much to take in. All I knew was that I had to save my father.
I knew my father was already dead but I didn’t want to accept it.
Hours later it finally hit me, my father was gone and I just broke down. My dad and I weren’t all that close which is probably why it hurt me so much. I lost a man who brought me in this world who I barely knew and that barely knew me. This created a whirlwind of different emotions and dark thoughts which many know nothing about. In order to cope with my emotions and not deal with them directly I started smoking so much weed that i couldn’t even get high anymore. It was so bad that I would purposely call out of a good paying job to stay home in my dark room and lay in bed all day. I didn’t want to be bothered or seen by anyone. Mentally i was so messed up that the only thing on my mind at this point was suicide.
At 22, I decided to take all the Advil that I had at home plus my dads heart medicine, which obviously didn’t work making me feel like more of a failure. “I can’t even kill myself right” is what that little voice in my head kept telling me. See how sick and twisted the mind can be? I know I am not a failure but I feel like it because I couldn’t even succeed at killing myself. The crazy part about all of this is that I told my best friend of 12 years about my suicidal thoughts and all he said was, ” you tripping, that’s white people shit.” I didn’t even know what to say. “You right”, were the only 2 words that left my mouth. I was so annoyed that I just walked away. Being my best friend he could have said something, anything to ease my pain. I planned on killing myself that night and all my best friend that I confided in could tell me was, “that’s white people shit”? I didn’t know only white people had brains. It’s sad how most minorities think mental health is a white people thing. This is why we are walking around so fucked up, because we believe mental illness is a white people thing.
I planned on dying that night I spoke to my best friend. I had no idea music would have saved me from it though. I was sitting in my car with a gun in my hand, music playing in the background and this artist Bishop comes on. The song that was playing was called, “Laughter and Cries”. I started listening to the lyrics and the song distracted me from my thoughts and made me realize that I am not alone in this fight. That night I did not kill myself.
I can relate to Joe Budden as well which really helps me keep going, being that he is one of my favorites. He raps about his struggles with addiction and depression and one thing he said that really stuck out was, ” you don’t know shit about the thoughts in my head and the strength I need daily just to get out of bed “.
How can therapy take care of me when I don’t give a fuck what people think?
That’s what I tell people who think therapy is the answer to everything. I’m still here, I’m still fighting. I know one day I will get better.
– Jay, Los Angeles.
I asked Jay why he hasn’t attempted suicide again and he replied with another Joe Budden line,
“Couldn’t lie to her, couldn’t figure out how to say bye to her”
The only thing that keeps Jay alive right now is music and his mother.
Keep fighting Jay, God got you. PRAY.