The Difference A Year Makes
I almost titled this âthe difference a tear makesâ but that wouldâve been corny and forced. Sometimes you just need to relax. But that other title wouldâve been appropriate because there really are different types of tears and different levels of crying. Iâll explain.
About a year ago (spring 2018), I was in what I can now describe as the late stages of a dark period that seemed to have gone on forever. It began in the Fall of 2017, possibly before then, and got very ugly in the winter of 2017. I spent my New Yearâs Eve in my bedroom by myself with such incredible brain fog and just pain and doubt and worry and wondering if it would ever end. It wasnât pretty or fun and even putting myself in that place now as I write this makes me wanna stop writing, but letâs continue.
As Iâm working my way through the haze in Spring of last year and trying to step back into the light, one of the things that helped me and gave me a shot of hope was this lengthy interview Charlamagne tha God did with Kanye West. I canât remember everything in the interview, but there was a part where Kanye went into his mental and physical breakdown from 2016, an event that kind of threw me off for a second when it first occured. I was on some hilly sidewalk close to downtown LA when my mom called me and said âyou heard Kanye West was rushed to the hospital?â I finished up what I was doing then got on my phone to get the details and while I was a bit worried, my faith which was still in tact at the time, didnât let me worry much. I knew heâd be good because his story still had much more to come.
Back to last year and the interview. The interview came at a time when I was a crying machine (see attached photos). After a near decade-long drought of never feeling much of anything, I was feeling everything all at once and it just wouldnât stop. For at least a month between April and May I cried at least once everyday. I felt alone and I was in pain and just wanted to know when and how it would be over. In his interview, Ye talked about how that episode led to him losing his confidence. He talked about how what led up to it was basically taking on too much. Being the person who has to be there for everyone, not sleeping or eating right, stressing, not fully healing from emotional traumas, the list goes on.Â
As Kanye told it to Charlamagne, you can see someone who once thought himself to be invincible who came face to face with his own mortality and how it can all really be over just like that. That was similar to what happened to me and I could completely relate. I was just going about my life, kind of feeling exhausted mentally and physically but still trying to be there for everyone and then the next thing you know, ambulance, hospital, mental and physical shutdown, wondering how you got there. Then months and months of isolation wondering how to get back to your old form or create a new one. Questioning everything about life as you knew it.
I fought tooth and nail for months to get the old me back. I wanted to erase the pain of everything that happened. Not just from the episode but dating as far back as my adolescent years. There was a lot of stuff I never really stopped to unpack. I had been carrying it with me for so long and with such a rigorous daily schedule, I never noticed that thatâs what was weighing me down emotionally. I thought it was just the norm for me to feel so detached. Only while unpacking, did I see where a lot of my thoughts and feelings (or lack thereof) stemmed from. And I was doing all this unpacking, mental and physical rehabilitation, without the aid of any kind of therapist or doctor or any medication. That was another part of the interview that struck a chord. Kanye talked about how he wasnât seeing a therapist and didnât like taking medication because of how they made him feel (note: please see a therapist or doctor and take medication if you believe you need it. Thereâs absolutely no shame in it and itâs actually the wise thing to do if you need it.)
I was relying on some of my trusted methods to get me into feeling like an actual human again. God first. I prayed and prayed and prayed some more. Music. Any music that was positive or spiritual or soulful or had anything to do with pain and loss and love and life, I listened to on repeat. I couldnât socialize or work, so the music was basically my only thing to do. That and watching sports. I meditated. I created a routine and stuck to it. Began using my social media apps a little more actively and cleaned up any kind of content that would trigger me or make me feel lesser because of what I was dealing with (there was a lot to clean up). I became comfortable with uncomfortable conversations and set boundaries for people around me. For the first time ever I also learned how to say no without feeling guilty.
Realizing that you mean a lot to a lot of people will reshape how you go about life. A lot of things suffered because of me not being myself. I came to the realization that itâs actually a selfless act to protect my well being so that I can be of service to the world like I was meant to be. We are all needed. Being in a prolonged âdark spaceâ or being weakened mentally or physically causes a ripple effect on many more lives than we can imagine. Itâs like a lightbulb that has a broken switch. Youâre there but youâre not lighting the way for others to see clearer. You see them stumbling and kicking things and you know that you can easily help, but the switch needs to be fixed and needs to be protected from being broken again.Â
I donât wanna make this any longer than it needs to be and I donât like talking about myself for this long so Iâll start to bring it home. Almost all the books I read and the videos I watched during my healing always emphasized SERVICE. I remember Will Smith preaching the importance of service so Iâve always believed in it and Iâve basically spent my life serving. But I didnât realize that the absence of serving was partly what caused my breakdown and what was keeping me there.
I needed to feel like I was of use to the world again. Needed to start doing things to positively affect others. Whether in my family, in my community, online, wherever there was a need. The more I did that, the stronger I became and the more my confidence began to restore. Parts of the old me that needed to come back were coming back, the parts that needed to be shed were shed and were making room for new habits and new ways of thinking and being.
This past Easter weekend was extremely powerful. night I had a haircut appointment set up with my friend and barber for about a decade when Iâm home on the east coast. As I was rushing to get to his shop, I accidentally left my phone at home. Me 6 months ago wouldnât even want to go to that barbershop. Itâs at the mall, so many familiar faces who knew me before I got broken down by life. Why go there when I can go to any generic barber and get a decent cut? Me a year ago wouldnât even go to the mailbox without my phone. What if my body shuts down on me again and I have an emergency? What if this? What if that? But Saturday night there was none of that. I was good. I was confident. I was....me. Went and kicked it with my guy, got a nice cut, went in the mall and then came home and watched some incredible basketball games. Hardly a worry in the world.
The next morning--Easter Sunday--I woke up early and starving. I shared Happy Easter greetings with my family and friends then headed to a brunch spot to get breakfast. Everything was so peaceful and serene. The girl at the bar taking my order didnât seem to be in the best mood, but I didnât let it change my vibration. I know sheâs up early on a Holiday making drinks for people and taking food orders to make some money. Not being all smiles is definitely understandable. I spoke politely to her and tipped as best as I could then I left and returned thirty minutes later to grab the food.
Headed home and set up my battle station to watch Kanye Westâs Sunday Service at Coachella. For the past year since the Charlamagne interview, Iâve watched Kanye slowly gain his confidence and his swagger back. From ranting at TMZ and in the Oval Office to selling sneakers at a Lemonade stand with his children for mental health awareness, to the weekly Sunday Services where he and friends and family gather to sing praises and dance. Iâve seen him skateboarding, go to Tokyo to hang out with his old friend Dave Chappelle, seen him stumble through his raps in the few live performances he has done (SNL and Camp Flog Gnaw). Iâve seen him basically just be human. Iâve seen him healing while simultaneously I was going through my own healing. Iâve seen try to be of service to people because thatâs what we need to do to feel fulfilled.
The show starts. Itâs everything you expect from a Kanye West show when all the chips are on the table. The fans were read; the curious folks were too. The doubters and the critics already began to build narratives and telling people what to think about an event yet to take place. But none of that mattered on this Sunday. When youâre called to serve, youâre called to served and that is your only mission. Everything else can be addressed later or never addressed at all.Â
The music was big and bright. The clothes were dull, I would assume by design. Almost like everyone there was covered up but naked at the same time. There was nothing to distract from the mission: to give praise for healing, for overcoming, for the strength and wisdom to navigate through trials and tribulations, both past and the ones to come. It was a bunch of creative people from all walks of life going to tell it on the mountain. There was no hierarchy. Everyone was on a level from the security guards to the Coachella attendees to Kim Kardashian to Kanye himself. The cameras never focused on any one person for longer than two minutes. This wasnât to be watched. It was to be experienced. It wasnât to be judged. It was to be partaken in.Â
And partake I did. As the huge blueberry pancakes and spinach omelette I just downed were settling in, my spirit was being lifted by the moment. Every sound was reminding me of how far I had come. Every personâs smiles and dance steps was contagious and made me smile and dance. And then came the one brief moment where the music stopped. Chance the Rapper had just flawlessly delivered his verse from Kanye Westâs âUltralight Beamâ which was a moment in itself. Chano from 79th standing on a platform being proudly looked at by his Chicago idol. This is the stuff hip-hop dreams are made of. Chance steps down and DMX steps up. Yes, young Chance the Rapper who just recently came into fame in the last half a decade is being followed by legendary Earl Simmons at Coachella in 2019 and it doesnât seem weird at all because we know why X is there. A video went viral three weeks prior of DMX delivering one of his signature prayers at Kanyeâs Sunday Service gathering.Â
Now it was time for X to deliver on the big stage. Probably the first time in life where I saw DMX look a little bit nervous. He once was a headliner at Woodstock in front of a crowd of 200,000+ people so this wasnât exactly new territory. But that was in 1999--two decades ago. Before he had to prematurely let go of the chokehold he once held on the rap game. That was before the memes of him breaking down crying on reality shows about his childhood, marital struggles and drug addiction. That didnât matter on Sunday. DMX was there to perform a service and a sermon and he quickly shook off the nerves and did exactly that. My mom even called me later and said âthat DMX needs to be given a church; heâs gifted.âÂ
As X stepped down from the highest platform on the mountain and the choir and band were beginning to rev back up, the camera pans to Kanye West with his face buried in his hands crying unconsolably. I was already having an emotional and spiritual weekend and the Chance the Rapper portion was already making me feel all kinds of proud, just to be a child of hip-hop and just be alive. But then within seconds of seeing Kanye cry, and DMX and Kid Cudi-- two of the biggest survivors the music industry has ever seen--place hands on him to comfort him, the tears began to form in my eyes. Yes, itâs as cheesy as it sounds and I was really laughing at myself but I couldnât stop it. Other choir members, men and women, were crying also. Everybody for their own personal reason that doesnât need explanation.Â
My tears from a year ago were from pain and from confusion. My tears on Easter Sunday (also known as the day of Resurrection) were from triumph and clarity, and optimism and gratefulness. The people on that mountain had done it. I had done it. God, especially, has done it and will continue to do it. And that shift in perspective, and then in reality, is the difference that a year can make.Â
Peace and Love
