The sweet symphony of uncontrollable sobs can be so soothing when all you’ve known is the sound of silent suffering. When the effort of existing becomes unbearable, and the white noise surrounds you (and no, i’m not talking about Disclosure), you come to realise hell isn’t so bad when you have music. Damn I miss my headphones. I actually have to listen to my own thoughts now.
It’s dark down here. “Well of course it is dark, the lights are off in your room, duh.” That’s what the voice in my head is telling me. The other, more quiet voice rebuts. “No. That’s not what I meant. My mind is dark. Or maybe blank? I don’t know.” Silence.
“Now everybody tellin’ me a lie. Lordy give me something for my soul. See I don’t wanna think of suicide. So please don’t take the lock key off my door.”
It begins. The lyrics living in my head have awaken. They bounce across my skull, jumping from ear to ear as though my mind is a playground. The devil’s playground. And it was theirs. Theirs to control. Theirs to destroy.
They had become so comfortable here. They knew things about me I didn’t. They knew my deepest thoughts, my deepest fears, my insecurities.
“See you can’t handle pressure on your own, so why you carry boulders by yourself?” Who told you I shouldered all my burdens? How did you know I was crumbling under the pressure? Like crabs in a barrel, my own thoughts pull me down – deeper into hell I go.
The lyrics speak to me. They tell me things I would never tell myself. I know “I just need some guidance in my steps”. I know “i’m not the only one alone”. I know “i’m not the only one who felt”. But can I heal? Black boys aren’t supposed to cry…or so I was told. Black boys weren’t taught to cry…a myth I was sold.
Is it wrong “I’m praying that I make it to twenty-five”? I’ve lost friends. Friends who didn’t see another year, another week. Friends who should have seen tomorrow but tomorrow never came.
Call the doctors. Call whoever you want. I know I’ve been having problems with myself. I know love doesn’t live here anymore. Before you take me away, just tell me this: where does this “love” everyone talks about reside?
You claim to love me but you don’t know my issues as a child. So what if I’ve been losing more than just my mind? So what if I don’t want to be like any of you no more? I am coping my own way. And if I’m doomed to die young, my only wish is to receive an answer from our Heavenly Father. I want to ask Him, why are you so far away?
I am grateful Isaiah Rashad spoke to me in my moments of darkness. Days when I chose not to listen to myself, you were there. Music was there. There to support me when I let myself down.
It’s true, I guess. Hell isn’t so bad when you have music.
— To better understand this, listen to Isaiah Rashad – Heavenly Father. —