A Successful Depressive

I’ve mentioned me as a successive depressive before the 4/18th several times, I think. And I have wanted to make it a serious thought. I believe depression is far more widespread and serious than the common consensus wants to acknowledge. It can kill you in many ways by many things, some of those things I cannot imagine, but I do know mine and how I worked hard to escape. My poems became many prayers in notebook, several anti-depressant drugs, 3 months of preparation for research on psilocybin after cancer (I had a prostatectomy in late 2010). By then, I wanted Mose’s gift, to see the promised-land, even if I would not be able to enter it. What would life look like without depression? Yet, nothing relieved me.

So I gained the things to give me grace while I was a loser. I found peace, energy, and respect. As I had a car, I could go to many places empty of people but full of life: birds, bugs, vines and floating leaves, ruined canals, and railroads, where I had nothing to do (having no life to contend with) and, had a habit of open-hand: I praised my Higher Power and always had my hand and heart full. I would still be a failure on this earth, and would still have all the thoughts and ideas wiped away, but the peace remained and grew. I knew I could find it. Even though it would not amount to anything, in this cruel and unforgiving world, it stayed in my heart, and I knew where to find it, alone and thanking God.

Then, a couple of Lents ago, I decided to say the rosary every day, and began praying the rosary during my walks. Whatever I have to say about the contents of the rosary, I believe the repetitive counting helped. I’d add extra decades also for those suffering from cancer, and more for those dealing with Covid-19; then for leaders making decisions to protect their constituents. It wasn’t the sacredness of the words, but a powerful mantra, a repetition of gratefulness and good will. Thank God my depression can’t deny this energy like it does all my creative thoughts and sacred reminiscences. I can’t feel shame and guilt over the content I didn’t create. So now, I could find peace if I waited for it. I could gain energy if I prayed for somebody else and then, I realized I’d have respect in any place I’d go the minute I’d take the microphone.

In my seventieth year, I would find my sweet spot in a vast range of songs, styles and musical phrasing. I’m better, more confident than I ever was, the respect for me as a singer was instant. So, however depression smothered me, knew all my weaknesses to brought me down every day, kept me hopeless about my past and future, it could not get between me and my peace, energy and respect. And so, I was a successful depressive when my brain collapsed on April 18, 2020. Hopeless, powerless, waiting for things to get much, much worse, I still had pride and power in things that were not my own. But I never even imagined the curiosity I knew long ago.