The depression or, I really wish I had wealthy parents or, was a better high school students so, financial aid couldn’t fuck me over edition.
or Songs that get me through.
Erykah Badu – A.D.2000 live
LAURYN HILL – I GET OUT MTV UNPLUGGED
Sam Cooke – A Change Gonna Come
It’s a short one. I know forgive me.
Know what your willing to fight for,
KD
2008 is going to end the same way it started, with a kiss of depression and a hug of insomnia. So, while I’m excited for a new year and new possibilities, I am still weary and fear full as any semi-sane person should be. I’m going into 2009 carrying regrets heavy enough to crush me, heavy enough to leave me right where I don’t want to be. This past year has been a struggle, even when I’ve hid it behind witt or drinking, or facebook status updates, most days have been more of a struggle to get out of bed than you will ever understand. I let the world kick my ass. I let whatever was holding me down win. I was not myself this year. I was this complacent person walking around aimlessly pretending not to notice that life was happening. In 2009 this complacency will have to die, and so will this laziness, this defensiveness and this fear of being an amazing smiling person filled to the brim with love of self and the world around. The sad part is, as I sit back and read old postings I saw my world slipping away from me, clear as day, and I did nothing. I lied to myself. I told myself that by pushing forward, I would be ok, that everything would work it self out in the end. I was passive as hell. That has to die as well. I could have stopped this in April, or March, or that day that depression crept down my throat and Boy Scout knotted my stomach into vomit and tears. I could have done something then. I didn’t and I’m pissed at myself. I didn’t have to be here, and I know this is less about fate and more about being proactive. I could have played a bigger role in my own life, I didn’t have to let world dictate what I did or how I did it. I could have been the voice, the force that pushed me out. And I still have to be. I can’t quit. Quitting is death. I’m not there yet. I’m slowly waking up from this coma of complacency. Standing up, Being the adult that I need to be, not the one I pretend to be. 2009 will be the year of accepting responsibility. Fixing all that’s broken and mending it with tears and forgiveness, instead of empty promises and sideways smiles. 2009 will be a year of healing, of new beginnings. Whatever that means… I will not be that person again. He dies. Right here and right now, and tomorrow I will party, dance, drink, cry and hug. And yes when January 1st rolls around I will wake up the same person. This skins, these finger and toe nails, and this stiff ass knee, but I will not think nor walk the same. I cannot sit back and watch opportunity and life sleep right out of my hands. I know it’s easier said than done, so I won’t call these resolutions. I’ll call them things that need to change if I want to survive and I do. I will. I have. I’ve mad it through another year, and I am so thankful for that. I thankful for this chance to reflect on opportunities not taken, and tears not cried, and relationships not mended.
Despite all my sadness and my need to change, there are things about this year that I am quite grateful/thankful for. I am thankful for the progresses I’ve made in of spite all of my short comings. This year I’ve dedicated myself to writing more, and I committed to it, and I’m proud of the out come. The only thing I’ve committed to in years. That’s a lie. I’ve committed myself to my friends and I’ve fell in love with each and every one of them all over again, and to them I owe so much. They’ve allowed me to love unconditionally again, and that’s something I never saw for myself again. I’m grateful for my family even when we refuse to accept our stubbornness, and fight and bicker to no end. I’m grateful to my God because this year, I questions him, and cursed him, and damn near turned my back on him, and through it all he’s kept me. I know he has, and I believe it with every ounce of my soul. I’m still trying to figure this church and spirituality thing out. I’ll get there. And I accept my missing faith as part of some of the challenges that I faced this year. I’m thankful for my unsuspected semester away from school. It’s taught me how much I truly do value the opportunity to learn. It’s showed me the art of a real life adult hustle is more than I can handle right now. I have a greater respect for the people who roll out of bed every morning and go to a job that they hate. I did it for 3 months and hated it, it almost killed me. I cannot wait for this year to throw me head first into a classroom. I will be there. However, my time away from school allowed me to fall in love with reading and the smell of public libraries. I will continue to read as much as I can, whenever I can, because as English major that’s where I fall short, and my comma craziness.
As much as I hate dislike my life, I love it all the same.
If I hold out,
KD
Ever just been in a mood. Like everything in life is going right, or its not going wrong enough for you to complain about, and still its not quite sunshine and french fries. I’m having one of those days. Where I just want to crawl to my room close the blinds, turn the phone off, and let Lauryn and the acoustic take me away.
She always calms my soul. She forces me to think that things could be worse and that I’m wasting life by sitting in darkness, she gives me hope! I think she wrote some songs just for me on days like this. I also remember that she ran away from the public she became a crazy hip-hip homey the clown…
Exhibit A
Exhibit B
So, I’m not running away! Clowns scare me!
Tragic. Yes. Still, it doesn’t take away from the genius that is unplugged. The acoustics, the soul, the spirituality, the raspy of her voice. I miss the Fugees “Nappy Heads/Mona Lisa” Lauryn.I can live with this version though. We must all change in our own way. and if it wasn’t for her break down and retreat I would have nothing to take me away from this depression like state I find myself in.
I thought about talking to a counselor about these feelings, but I have to much pride to take that walk. I’ve never been on death row and have not walked the green mile, but I imagine that the sensation that comes over a person is the same. Well minus that fact that I haven’t killed anyone.
Someone referred to this as my “man-period”. But that sounds to weird to repeat. I’d rather call it something that resembles depression.
Its Wednesday,
KD
