Lately, I’ve been fighting with some demons. Bad moods were rolling in for no reason, self-doubt was consuming me from the inside and I had no idea where to go for help. I thought it was one of my “cleaning periods” which usually follows a long period of happiness. In two days will be New Year’s Eve, two weeks after my inner breakdown.
High-off around noon, falling into the swamp as the sun made its way through the sky and descended behind horizon. I became nauseous from being down yet again, sort of a downwards spiral. I had promised to call my parents on that day, but decided to skip, refusing to bother them with my moody me. Listening to Eminem, an idea of buying his latest album, sitting down for a coffee and writing some rap came to my mind. I had gone for the deluxe version of Marshall Mathers LP 2 (brilliant, by the way) and went to the café. I was trying to fight the demons that were bothering me for several days in a row and threw them on a paper. Texts became darker and darker, until inevitably, I took a gun and shot my brain off. Lots of evil has been put on that paper.
I caught a metro and went back home. I felt like shit. Why should I return home? Nothing was waiting for me there. So what was the point of sitting there and staring at blank page? I had to find an answer somewhere out there, in the city. And the best place to seek for an answer was sea. Couple of weeks ago, letting me surf and then catching me in an undertow, it showed me how fragile life actually was. It had made appreciate it more. I needed its help.
I was all alone on the beach as I approached the waves. Lighthouse was flashing in complete darkness and I saw lights of boats floating in the distance. I had begun thinking out loud, asking questions and debating on the answers. Tanker was leaving the port and I felt like swimming towards it and getting on board. However, escaping questions does not help. Interesting thing happened in my conversation with the sea. I had started putting words into rhymes. In a matter of minutes I was out there on the beach, freestyling. What a scary view it must have been!
Rap has always been my music genre number one, deep passion and source of strength. We are talking around fifteen years of more-or-less faithful relationship. I’ve always wanted to be a rapper, but since I cannot sing I assumed I cannot rap. I had problems writing something. I would embarrass my parents. My friends, who mostly hated rap, would for sure point fingers at me and laugh. So I had avoided it. I had dropped it. Not my thing.
Couple of seagulls became my audience and I realized what I just did. In times of need (and not for the first time), I wrote rap to get out of depression. I reached out to my huge passion for help. Maybe I should focus on it. I should treat rap seriously. I’ve just received a mighty right hook to realize how much I care. Following morning I felt uncomfortable looking at my notepad. So many bad things were caught up inside. Had my shrink seen it (if I had any), she would have to see her own shrink. I managed to read it and then I had burned it. Watching flames consume the last real evidence of my fictional suicide felt satisfying.
Since then, I feel better and I’ve been writing every day. I’ve returned to Prague for Christmas holidays and am currently sort of torn up between Porto and my hometown. Family expects me to be me, but I can’t. I feel like I’ve changed a bit. Cozy and comfortable flat makes me feel lazy. Same old routine is going on and on. I can’t wait catching a plane back.
Keep an eye out for little hints in your depressions and bad moods. Maybe they are signalling something truly important being neglected. Do not blame weather, people, or just “the way things go.” Look deeper. I had close to no idea what to do with my life. With the hints and courage surging from the battle, I feel more confident trying to make something out of it. An idea of me as a rapper was ridiculous. My mind had to go very, very far to let me realize, that it doesn’t matter. I’ve debated with a few of my friends about me getting serious with rap, and no one laughed.
The biggest naysayer is us. With that in mind, let’s get going!