What’s the bravest thing you’ve ever done when no one was watching?
Near the beginning of summer, while experiencing hypomanic symptoms, I left the house late at night to drive around, singing as I often do to uplifting music. I would play my “Fight” playlist when angry and my “Freedom” playlist if I was feeling inspired.
This particular night, I was listening to some old SoundCloud favorites while curating a new playlist I had planned to create for my new friend. It was meant to capture instrumental progressive house and electronic dance music with a sprinkle of drum and base. He liked EDM but I wanted to diversify the sound, potentially introducing him to some new artists. I already had my artist list prepared in my mind, so as I sang, I thought of new artists to add to the list.
The list had started with Odesza, a duo I had discovered back in high school on silent nights alone in the basement, half my lifespan ago. It grew quickly to include Sorrow, Phaeleh, Kaskade, and Clams Casino along with some Submotion Orchestra, Blackmill and other artists.
Feeling inspired, that night I decided I would visit Saylorville lake. It was past the quiet hour, with virtually no cars on the road and just my lights on the asphalt. I slowly drove up to the gate before parking nearby and continuing my journey to the water on foot. A fish always knows her way back to the water. Even in the dark.
I had taken my headphones and a half finished bottle of tequila with me, planning to continue listening and curating, drawing inspiration from the water.
When I reached the water’s edge I realized the water was comfortably warm. I ventured in further, digging my toes into the sand as if to anchor myself. The water was almost completely still, reflecting the light of what looked like a full moon.
Looking up at the sky, I noticed more stars than usual. I was far enough away from the light pollution that I could make out several constellations. The sky was littered with stars in every direction. I was in absolute awe.
Normally I would sit and watch the waves undulate, but given there were no waves at the moment I decided to put my headphones on and listen to my “Fight” playlist. Finding one of my favorite Cardi B songs, “Get Up 10”, I identified a small boulder to perch on that wasn’t too slippery, and I began to sing.
I was alone out by the lake, not another soul could hear me, so I put my whole soul into what I was singing. I was confused and angry at the way people treated me, like I had done something to them personally. The rumor mill was alive and well and making my life a living hell. But I sang like I wanted the world and God to know that I wasn’t going anywhere. I was here and I was fighting for life, albeit with a 750 ml bottle of tequila in my hand. Regardless, I put all my emotions into the lyrics of the first song I’d ever heard of hers, putting myself in her shoes. Sharing her struggles and her hard won lessons.
“I’m the one that’s killin’ sh*t, hands down (hands down)
If you got a problem with me, say it now (say it)
‘Cause I don’t wanna hear no sneak dissin’ (huh?)
‘Specially not from one you weak b*tches…”
I was so tired of feeling like a spectacle whenever I left the house. I wanted to live in peace, knowing full well that kind of peace would likely never be for me. My spirit was indomitable after decades of pain and loneliness, and it attracted hatred as much as any kind of admiration due to my strong convictions and firm moral compass.
“I don’t trust no nikka, I don’t feel no b*tch, whole life been through some f*cked up sh*t
They say I’m too that, oh, I’m too this, when you’ve seen what I’ve seen, you end up like this”
I had made mistakes that everyone seemed obsessed with and unable to let go of, which I couldn’t understand given I was human like everyone else. So why this fascination with me? Especially given they knew nothing about me or the life I’d lived?
“Man, I said we gon’ win, knock me down nine times but I get up ten
Look myself in the mirror I said we gon win, knock me down nine times but I get up ten, b*tch.”
The next song was called “All Eyez on Me” by Louden/Reverie. This one had gotten me through a particularly bad manic episode and two resulting hospitalizations a couple of years prior, while working as a bioanalytical chemist at a biotech in Boston. I remember listening to it on repeat for hours on end while pacing in my apartment, even playing it for a few other patients at McLean after being committed for paranoia and vandalism.
“Got the world on my shoulders
Check mate
Hold up
High, I’m never sober
Cruisin’ in my rover
B*tch!
Never question
Not scared of tension
I’m fresh & love the attention
You sick with an obsession
All up in my mentions
Blessings
God’s gift to earth
I’m a legend
I cry tears of gold underneath my Gucci lenses…”
I sang and danced freely under the heavens for God to see. I prayed that He knew I was trying. I did NOT love the attention but I was infrequently sober to cope with what felt like the whole world on my shoulders, and I was looking for another way to live.
I did this for another hour, speaking to myself and all my haters. I sang to Cardi B, Megan thee Stallion, Snow tha Product and others. Anything that spoke to me. After tiring myself out adequately, I slipped off the boulder into the water. Giggling to myself, I took a large sip of tequila, looking back up at the sky. I craned my head as far back as it would go but felt dissatisfied. This is when I decided to use the small boulders around me as a place to rest.
I laid back in the water, feeling the warmth enveloping me like I was safely back in my mother’s womb. As I stared at the vast web of stars above, arms floating as I rested, most of my body in the water, I felt, at that moment, at peace. My head was silent and all I could hear were the small laps of water against rocks. Be the jellyfish.
I floated in the lake for 20 or so minutes, spending this precious time under the expanse of the universe with God. The serenity I felt after was one I hadn’t felt for some time, if ever. I arose after a nudge from the Holy Spirit reminded me I was still a land creature. It was the wee hours of the morning and I had a distance to walk back to my car.
I tried to put my flats back on but my clothes were too wet. Carrying them back with me I walked back, barefoot, which I much preferred anyway. It was pitch black, and anyone or any animal could have been out there, but I knew I wasn’t walking alone so I felt unafraid.
Once I returned to my car I changed my clothes to a spare set I kept in the trunk for emergencies. Once changed I buckled my seatbelt before backing out of my parking spot. But not before realizing I had forgotten my bottle. I had held onto it the entire night but when I’d submerged myself in the water, it had floated away, and I hadn’t even noticed. I chastised myself for littering but then quietly thanked God for the small glimmer of hope. Perhaps my bravery wasn’t needed for spontaneous midnight escapades so much as it was needed for gaining and maintaining sobriety. And with that thought hovering over my head, I drove back home, disappearing into the night.
