Discover more from mind noise by ash raymond james
The one about depression
A piece about awareness on suicide
Today, I participated in a project called ‘11:11’. It was one hundred and eleven poets going live for eleven minutes to spread awareness about suicide as somebody leaves this way every eleven minutes. This is what’s on my mind right now, and as a result, this newsletter might be heavy but in a necessary way that everybody needs to carry because I want you to hear me tell you that you should stay and I want you to hear me remind you that you are special.
Sadness is a terrifying thing. It thrives off ruin. The places it can drag you, the person it can make you, all terrifying. We must be honest and see things for what they are. To deny the fear is to deny yourself healing. Sadness in its deepest state is scary. Living when every part of you tells you not to is the bravest rebellion, but it all begins with acceptance. Acceptance of your agony, acceptance of your ability to overcome. I know firsthand how loud sadness can scream in the alone places. It is the sort of salesperson that could sell shoes to snakes. It is a convincing creature that makes lies and truth belong to the same melody. However useless or worthless it has made you believe you are, please know you belong here. I cannot define your worth. I simply do not have the years it would take, and I do not have the vocabulary.
Depression is the heaviest thing in the universe. It deadweights itself onto our happiness, and people still wonder why it is often referred to as suffocating. Depression is the sort of friend you keep around because you convince yourself their toxic behavior is better than loneliness. It doesn’t matter if you feed or starve it; it sticks around anyway. It is like being punched in the stomach in slow motion. Its favourite meal is hope on toast with a little side of self-love, and it devours everything whole. It hits the autopilot button with a hammer. It is allergic to mornings. It sleeps like it’s playing Sonic, but all the gold coins are z’s. It shows up to the party without an invite. It brings its cousin anxiety; now they’re the only ones having fun. At least it is kind enough to share its hangovers.
But remember, belief is the closest living relative to healing. The act of believing is a medicine. Believing is progress, is achievement, and is worthy of celebration. Sometimes, getting out of bed is worthy of a standing ovation, and there are times when showering is a magic trick beyond comprehension. Please stop being mad at yourself for your inability to do anything. Even breathing is a skill I have to spend some days relearning. Being alive is not like riding a bike. Sometimes, we forget how to do it, and we forget how good it can feel. If you woke up this morning, give yourself a high five (The uncool kids call it clapping). Give yourself a well-deserved break. Expectation is a moving target. It is okay if some days you live in its shadow. Ask for the arms of a loved one, be honest, and share your hurting; before long, sadness will feel much less scary. Treat yourself gentle and treat yourself kind. This world is already crying; it cannot afford to lose you, too.
They say music is medicine, so here are a couple of songs with a nice feeling.