I have not often done this because as an artist, I like to leave the listener room for interpretation and discovery. However, in the interest of helping others and being apart of a movement, I have decided to provide a more detailed explanation of my lyrics for “Raindrops”.
In late 2018, the Carolinas and surrounding areas were hit with a series of historic hurricanes. One of such weather events was named Florence. Prior to its arrival, I was convinced that it’s presence would forever change the economical and terrestrial landscape as we once knew it. With this in my brain, the Lord inspired me to write. My original goal was to capture the essence of what our new “normal” would do to our souls and give a God-prompted response to it. Though Florence did not inflict as much impact on our local area as anticipated, the song which was birthed has the power to do so and go so much further.
If you were lead here, I pray that the Lord give you guidance as to whether or not to join me in creating more conversations around the subject of depression, mental health, and all “hush-hush” issues related to it. How can we be more effective as a body in waging war against such things without waging war against such people? I give an open ended invitation to anyone, artist or non, to leverage your voice to raise more awareness and provide more hope for people who struggle a little and who struggle a lot with mental health related issues. I earnestly entreat you to contribute if you can to this song as your voice and platform may help build more bridges to those who are wandering.
Mind is paralytic Steady stuck in the/a cycle of being my worst critic You get it?
My mind is paralyzed because of the cycle of being my own worst critic. Play on words between the relationship of paralyzed people and wheelchairs. Insert the mind.
This is trending A different kind of encrypted
This type of issue (i.e. depression) is taking on a newer, more concealable face.
I never take a prescription But this is the way you fill it You feel it?
Though I don’t take medicine for my condition, at my worst, I self-medicate by “trying to be better”
Feel like an infant. I never know what I’m gettin’. You never know what I’m givin’. They never know how to listen
This infancy is two-fold. On the one hand, public understanding and handling of mental health issues is quite infantile and very shallow. Mental health needs are not linear but rather fall along a “spectrum”. On the other hand, those who are at the receiving end of this underdeveloped understanding and handling often feel like they are treated like babies. Babies don’t always know what is going to happen to them (i.e. places to go, things to eat, clothes to wear). They just take it and adjust. Their caregivers conversely don’t always know how the babies will react. Communication with babies can be very limited. A lot of ‘goo goos’ and ‘ga gas’ get lost in translation.
It’s written Bout my condition. [If] it’s keeping me out commission, Then maybe I need to go get some treatment; Get out commission
People have made assessments about mental health and written books. Often times, the diagnosis can result in hospitilization or some form of long or short term treatment.
You spit it, but never live it You give it, but you don’t get You steady treating me like I’m a stigma you need to rid of
That’s cool and all, but the conversation often stops with conversation. Intentions are there, and people may even send said people away for treatment. However, the people who recommend the treatment often do not advance any further in trying to understand the other party. They leave it to ‘the professionals’, and thereby rob themselves of opportunity to allow that person(s) be at true peace with their “new normal”. Walls get created and comfort is numbed.
I guess it’s easy if I never spit it cause who would listen?
I/We wrestle with whether it’s even worth talking about our problems knowing all of the aforementioned and wonder if anyone would truly open their ears to listen and hearts to understanding.
The truth is gripping. A true description of what is missing
A hard reality. These are where the bricks fall short in actuality of real bridges being built between the two worlds.
Unglue the hinges Of the appendix of standard living.
Let us redefine what is and ‘who’ is in fact “normal”.
I stand to live in The shrewd eviction that’s handed to me
In the meantime, I have accepted where I am in life and my “normal”.
Let us all begin listening to understand. #Selah