Around two weeks ago, I finally released my debut album called Loving All My Demons and the last time I talked to you guys about it, I gave you a synopsis of the story behind the making of the album. In this blog post, I wanted to get personal. And I mean REALLY personal. Before I got the idea of making a rap album, I wrote a real story recounting the beginning of the darkest time of my life. This story will give you a better idea of what went on during my mind and how much this album really meant to me. So here it is, part TWO (And probably the final part) of the story behind Loving All My Demons:
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I don’t
quite remember the exact time and exact date, but I do remember that day as
being a moment that I will never forget.
My dad had picked me up after I finished my classes at VCU. On the drive home, my dad talked to me about
what was happening with my mom.
My mom had been fired from her job,
around January, and she was staying home.
Ever since she had been fired, for some reason, she had changed. Her attitude had changed, her personality had
changed, her demi near had changed, nearly everything that made my mom, my mom,
had changed for the worst.
Before she got fired, she was
helping me pay for my first year of college, since my dad had “no money” and I
had no job. She didn’t even want me to
work anyways. She told me to stay
focused on school. She told me that I
didn’t need to worry about money and let her worry about it. She told me that she had my back…What
happened?
The mom that I knew was no longer
the mom I knew back in 2011, in 2010, or any year before that. She went from a hard-working, caring mother
who would do anything for her children to make their lives better, to a woman
who didn’t seem to care anymore. Maybe
it was because of the stress of college expenses, maybe the job treated her
like shit…I don’t know. All I know is
something made her snap.
Shortly after my mom got fired,
things with her started to get weird.
She was acting delusional and paranoid.
She was talking about people from her workplace coming after her. She was always talking about people taking
her to court. She was always accusing us
of giving out personal information, putting our business out there, and people
trying to control her mind. It was
ridiculous.
On top of that, she was praying
constantly. There’s nothing wrong with
praying, but she was praying for long periods of time in her room. She wasn’t eating. She wasn’t keeping up with her hygiene. She was bruised up from constantly coining
herself. It was like she was trying to
cleanse herself of something.
I remember the first time I
realized these feelings that this women would no longer be the mom I knew for
years. I was preparing to go to school
when my grandmother had called for me.
She told me that my mom was outside on the side of our house where we
put our trashcan at and she was just standing there with her eyes closed. My grandmother told me that I had to get her
back inside because she and my dad tried to get her back in the house, but she
wasn’t listening. I remember thinking at
the time that my mom was just acting hard-headed and that a good
kick-in-the-ass from me will do the trick.
Little did I know the situation was more serious than I had imagined.
I went through the front door of
our house and walked around to the side of the house to check out what was
happening. I saw my mom standing there
with her eyes closed, touching the trash can in a trance-like stance. She was wearing a long one piece dress that
she would usually wear to bed and her long hair was frizzled and wild, like she
had not washed it or brushed it in a while.
Her skin was really yellow and her face was scarred from what seemed to
me like coining on her cheeks. Her face
was pale and she looked very thin.
Before I even opened my mouth, I knew something was wrong.
I told my mom to get inside the
house. She didn’t listen. I told my mom again and she gave me the shush
signal. I’m not sure how many times I
had told her to come inside but it seemed like ages. The way she was presented was quite
embarrassing, for us and for her. I told
my mom again, again, and again, but she wasn’t listening. She would only make noise when I told her to
get inside and when I tried to move her physically, she would only push me
away, determined to stay in her trance.
Soon my dad, grandmother, and I all tried convincing her when my efforts
alone weren’t enough. I was getting
irritated and thought to myself why this had to happen before I went to
school. I felt like crying.
Eventually, she allowed us to make
her move and I had to take her by the hand and guide her into the house. She walked very slowly, like her energy had
disappeared from her physical being, and she kept her eyes closed the whole
time. I didn’t let go of her hand until
she was completely inside the house. I
sat her down at our breakfast table and my grandmother took it from there. I sat down on the couch near the table
looking at my mom. She sat still, slowly
blinking and off into her own world. She
looked so lifeless. My grandmother
served her rice soup and my mom adamantly sipped tiny portions of it. I’m glad that she was eating and we got her
inside the house but it felt like an empty accomplishment. That day started in the worst way
possible. I soon learned that my twin
brother had tried to convince her to get back in the house before me, but my
mom wasn’t listening. My grandmother
told me that he cried while trying to do so.
How could I be so oblivious? I
didn’t know that this was going on until this situation that I was put in
brought it to light. I was only worried
about my new chapter in my life at the time.
Unfortunately, this situation with
my mom got worse before it got better.
My mother went to the emergency room three times over the course of
around a couple of weeks because of what she was going through. The first time occurred when she still had a
job. The second was after she got fired
and she was in states of hysteria. My
grandma and dad got worried so we called for an ambulance. 24 hours after she was released, my mom went
back to the hospital for a third time.
My grandma and dad called for Buddhist monks to try and “heal” her with
blessings and such but that worked as much as constantly going to the ER to
check for her physical symptoms. (Which were all normal, by the way) Soon all of our family friends knew about the
situation. They were all very nice about
it and they gave us free food. Too bad
it didn’t change much except an empty stomach.
The one thing that bothered me
about this whole situation is what my dad DIDN’T do. I was at the hospital for the third time my
mom went to the ER and the doctor had suggested that this may have something to
do with her psychological well-being because her physical vitals were all fine. He suggested to us that we get a psychologist
to help us out in this situation. I
completely agreed with his suggestion.
My dad, on the other hand, nodded, but never followed through with the
doctor’s suggestions. My mom eventually
got “better” due to some help from our family friends who have had experience
in dealing with a similar situation before.
Yes, she did get better in the sense that she was no longer hysterical,
but she was never the same person before all of this craziness happened. I never understood why my dad never took her
to a psychologist. The solution to this
problem was right there the whole time but he simply ignored it, like it wasn’t
an option. Why didn’t he take her to a
psychologist like the doctor suggested?
I was thinking that this problem can get better faster with that option
than what they were doing right then to make her better. On that day that my dad drove me back home
after school, I would soon know the answer to that question that was ingrained
into my mind the whole time and the dilemma that he was facing with that
question.
Half way home, my dad talked to me
about what was happening to my mom. I’m
sure he knew that I knew what was going on with my mom but it seemed like the
talk was more for him than for me. I
didn’t say anything and let him talk. As
he was talking about my mom’s situation, his voice was getting raspy and he was
constantly clearing his throat. Even
though I don’t spend much time with him, I know him well enough that when he’s
clearing his throat while saying something, he’s not sure about talking about
it. Soon, he was clearing his throat
every few seconds, like he was trying to hold something back. I didn’t look at him during that ride, but I
knew he was tearing up about it because he was constantly wiping his eyes a lot
like he was trying to hold all of his emotions back during the ride. I could hear the sadness and his voice as he
was explaining what he had been through with my mom in the past.
He said something that intrigued me
about my mom’s past. This is not the
first time my mom has acted this way. He
told me that when my mom gave birth to us that she was acting the same way as
she was now. He told me that she had to
be put in a mental hospital to get better.
No wonder my dad was hesitant of going to a Psychologist. He’s afraid that she will be put back there
again. My grandma also talked about it
too after my dad talked about it. Both
cried as they talked about that story.
As I quietly listened to his story,
I also held back from tearing up myself.
In my 19 years of living on this earth, I’ve never seen (or remembered)
my dad almost breaking down in front of me like that. It was uncomfortable for me because he never
shows that side but I felt like that moment showed me that he was a human being
and that he was hurting over this as well.
What he was sharing was real. He
was being totally honest and he was being vulnerable. I feel like that was a true moment of
connection between him and me even though I said nothing. That moment had impacted my perception of him
for a long time. Even though he’s not
the best father in the world, I know that he’s trying the best he can. After we arrived home, I got out of the car
and went through the front door of our house by myself. My dad was getting himself together in the
car.
David Hayder, Independent Rapper and Internet Radio DJ
Official Website: http://www.davidhayder.com
Listen to my latest songs here: http://www.davidhayder.com/listen.html
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/davidhayder
