Mental health rap.

Literally.

I laid down my first rap the other night. Since Kevin and I started dating six months ago, I’ve been inspired to write and perform a rap song. Kevin and his friends (Jesse and Matt, to name a couple) have been rapping for years. Listening to their stuff made me realize that the way I’ve been writing my poetry, its cadence and flow, suits hip hop well.

Regardless of my profession, it’s important to me to continue to raise awareness about mental health, to dismantle the relentless stigma around it. This is my first mental health rap, yo.

 

Malaise, a la mode.

It’s been a rough week. Of spending too much time with my mattress and comforter.

I’ve been working with my psychiatrist to address my lethargy, a symptom of depression that can be taken care of with medication. However, it can take some time and a few rounds of trial-and-error to determine what works.

A few weeks ago I started the process of taking one of my meds at a different time of day – with the hope that it would do the trick and get my body on a more energetic track. It didn’t. and that’s when it started – the gentle. relentless. pulling of the egyptian cotton undertow.

Then I ran out of my other medication and failed to refill it in a timely manner. I know, I know. I could rattle off excuses as to why with arduous conviction here. But I won’t. It was stupid. and irresponsible. and I know better. Otherwise, THIS. a week of malaise mummification. a dipping down and away from movement. activity. society.      me.

Feeling better can seem a mirage when a significant part of the ‘feeling better’ part comes in the form of a pill. “I’ve been great! SO much better. I don’t think I need these meds anymore.” Thing is. you must take this/these pill(s) to conjure the ‘feeling better’ part. And take the magic beans regularly to continue this oh-so-wonderful and easily-taken-for-granted state of being – the state of feeling OK. Seems simple enough. and it is. But once you allow yourself to slide into the slow ascent, the idiosyncratic task of refilling a prescription becomes a daunting and gargantuan box to check.

Dealing with the systemic repercussions of not complying to a drug prescription regimen is jumping into the maw of quicksand. it’s a slow and steady swallow. and the journey back tends to drag an anvil with it. on which shame and other modes of self-deprecation are forged. by you.

Dear lord. that is not a pretty picture I want to Mary Poppins-jump my way into. I can take better care of myself than that. And I will.

Note to self: I am never *ever* too tired nor busy to REFILL MY RX.

***

This is a song I wrote about mental illness. It seemed apropos to include here. and a shameless opportunity to share with you. one of the things I love to do. When I’m taking care of myself.

Song written, performed, and recorded by o.dawn.i Wednesday, January 9th, 2013.
Photo made by o.dawn.i Monday, May 24th, 2010.