12.02.2004
Higher Ground
"My life is no different than anybody else's. I had to realize this. I had to come to grips with this. We all go through ups and downs. We all get stuck sometimes. It's what we do to get un-stuck that counts." ~from The Man
Take your time Chris, and let it flow.
I have to say that sometimes in order to pace myself and not allow the thoughts to run amuck. Focus is another of my words.
Focus man, Focus.
Yesterday was amazing. I went from blog to blog, to blog to blog reading, feeling, witnessing how HIV/AIDS has affected so many around this world. As of date I have not lost anyone close to me to the disease and I pray that day never comes. Yet I know destiny is destiny, and truth is truth: live has no other will but to fulfill itself.
It wasn’t until this morning while reading The LoveHater’s post, and seeing the picture of his lost loved one did I actually begin to realize why I was so attracted to the whole World AIDS Day commemoration. Though I’m sure the creators meant to use WAD as a vehicle to distribute information about the disease on a global scale, 38 million families and friends who have lost loved ones however, have begun to see December 1st as a day of remembering, reflecting, and regret. For me it feeds into a destructive little disease I suffer with year after year, some of you might even know it, depression.
I’ve never been a fan of titles, simply because in my opinion they limit. The only one I live comfortably with is the one my mother gave me, Christopher David. I refuse to define myself by others standards and I will never submit to my own. That’s why at 17 when I was defined manic-depressive [bi-polar today], and given all manners of drugs to inhale, I could not commit. The doctor that diagnosed me did not know me, he knew a definition; a word he hoped would haunt my life like it had so many others.
I for one have never pretended to be sane. In fact I rather enjoy being crazy. Especially if crazy means not conforming to a generic world where everyone shares the same interests, follows the same trends and believes in the same diplomatic rhetoric. If anything is crazy, that shit crazy! Loony! Insane! Fucking nuts! It’s crazy to live your life for other people. Crazy to pretend to be someone you’re not. Crazy to think a degree will make you. Crazy to suffocate a dream. Crazy to commit to uncomfortable roles. Crazy to conform to the point you become unrecognizable, even to yourself. Crazy to think a certain car, or a certain neighborhood, or a certain brand says something about you. Crazy to think you can buy happiness. Crazy to believe you’re not good enough. Crazy to keep making excuse after excuse. Crazy not to see the big picture. And even crazier to ignore these words and not think none of them apply to you.
I was crazy for a long time, crazy to myself. Crazy to think I could meet a predefined standard. Now I know better. And as I work through the kinks I see just how bad things were. I see first hand what really caused my depression and what continues to cause the guilt and the pain and the suffering in my life. I wanted to be you. But more than that---I wanted you to like me, to love me; but I was so afraid that if you really got to know me you would reject me. And what good would I be then?
HIV and AIDS are real. As real as the sex that creates them. But so too are the feelings that cause so many of us to take a chance on life. Depression is not something my family or many families discuss though we know it is an inherited disease, passed from one generation to the next. I can almost guarantee you, if momma is unhappy, baby will be unhappy. Think about, and see if you cannot find the correlation. But, work with me, what if we took a chance, and actually confronted the pain? What if we actually chose happiness over pride? Love over anger? I’m serious, think about it, what if?
And I say to myself, what a wonderful world...
I smile a lot so people don’t usually see my pain, but it is there. And everyday I work on making it disappear. I make a conscious effort not to make excuses, for myself, for my friends, for my family, for my pain. I’ve seen the light happiness can cast. I’ve seen how much easier it is to live in love. I’ve seen how it has worked wonders in others and transformed their lives completely. And believe me I’d choose that any day, over the destructed force of conformity.
I had no intentions of sharing this today. None. But when Spirit moves, I’ve learned to follow. I’ve always been ashamed of my depression. Afraid to tell people how heavy it gets; hesitant to explain my fanatical thoughts when it seems the fog can’t be lifted. But in recent years I’ve learned that I am not a victim, but rather a participant. Every single day I choose how I will confront the issues that lie ahead---everyday---and these decisions ultimately affect my moods. And so I’ve reasoned if I have a choice, why not choose wisely? Why not choose love?
So I say to you, love yourself; confront yourself; heal yourself. There is more to life, so much more! Step out on faith, and keep on steppin' til like my man Stevie you reach your highest ground.
|
Take your time Chris, and let it flow.I have to say that sometimes in order to pace myself and not allow the thoughts to run amuck. Focus is another of my words.
Focus man, Focus.
Yesterday was amazing. I went from blog to blog, to blog to blog reading, feeling, witnessing how HIV/AIDS has affected so many around this world. As of date I have not lost anyone close to me to the disease and I pray that day never comes. Yet I know destiny is destiny, and truth is truth: live has no other will but to fulfill itself.
It wasn’t until this morning while reading The LoveHater’s post, and seeing the picture of his lost loved one did I actually begin to realize why I was so attracted to the whole World AIDS Day commemoration. Though I’m sure the creators meant to use WAD as a vehicle to distribute information about the disease on a global scale, 38 million families and friends who have lost loved ones however, have begun to see December 1st as a day of remembering, reflecting, and regret. For me it feeds into a destructive little disease I suffer with year after year, some of you might even know it, depression.
I’ve never been a fan of titles, simply because in my opinion they limit. The only one I live comfortably with is the one my mother gave me, Christopher David. I refuse to define myself by others standards and I will never submit to my own. That’s why at 17 when I was defined manic-depressive [bi-polar today], and given all manners of drugs to inhale, I could not commit. The doctor that diagnosed me did not know me, he knew a definition; a word he hoped would haunt my life like it had so many others.
I for one have never pretended to be sane. In fact I rather enjoy being crazy. Especially if crazy means not conforming to a generic world where everyone shares the same interests, follows the same trends and believes in the same diplomatic rhetoric. If anything is crazy, that shit crazy! Loony! Insane! Fucking nuts! It’s crazy to live your life for other people. Crazy to pretend to be someone you’re not. Crazy to think a degree will make you. Crazy to suffocate a dream. Crazy to commit to uncomfortable roles. Crazy to conform to the point you become unrecognizable, even to yourself. Crazy to think a certain car, or a certain neighborhood, or a certain brand says something about you. Crazy to think you can buy happiness. Crazy to believe you’re not good enough. Crazy to keep making excuse after excuse. Crazy not to see the big picture. And even crazier to ignore these words and not think none of them apply to you.
I was crazy for a long time, crazy to myself. Crazy to think I could meet a predefined standard. Now I know better. And as I work through the kinks I see just how bad things were. I see first hand what really caused my depression and what continues to cause the guilt and the pain and the suffering in my life. I wanted to be you. But more than that---I wanted you to like me, to love me; but I was so afraid that if you really got to know me you would reject me. And what good would I be then?
HIV and AIDS are real. As real as the sex that creates them. But so too are the feelings that cause so many of us to take a chance on life. Depression is not something my family or many families discuss though we know it is an inherited disease, passed from one generation to the next. I can almost guarantee you, if momma is unhappy, baby will be unhappy. Think about, and see if you cannot find the correlation. But, work with me, what if we took a chance, and actually confronted the pain? What if we actually chose happiness over pride? Love over anger? I’m serious, think about it, what if?
And I say to myself, what a wonderful world...
I smile a lot so people don’t usually see my pain, but it is there. And everyday I work on making it disappear. I make a conscious effort not to make excuses, for myself, for my friends, for my family, for my pain. I’ve seen the light happiness can cast. I’ve seen how much easier it is to live in love. I’ve seen how it has worked wonders in others and transformed their lives completely. And believe me I’d choose that any day, over the destructed force of conformity.
I had no intentions of sharing this today. None. But when Spirit moves, I’ve learned to follow. I’ve always been ashamed of my depression. Afraid to tell people how heavy it gets; hesitant to explain my fanatical thoughts when it seems the fog can’t be lifted. But in recent years I’ve learned that I am not a victim, but rather a participant. Every single day I choose how I will confront the issues that lie ahead---everyday---and these decisions ultimately affect my moods. And so I’ve reasoned if I have a choice, why not choose wisely? Why not choose love?
So I say to you, love yourself; confront yourself; heal yourself. There is more to life, so much more! Step out on faith, and keep on steppin' til like my man Stevie you reach your highest ground.
