Skip Day
When I first saw Mac Miller’s music video Senior Skip Day, I saw a reflection of myself. Like I was looking into an alternate dimension where I was the rapper I had always wanted to be in my teenage years. I watched him mature as an artist and infuse live jazz, r&b, soul, & rock into his stage show. To do that in this era of hip-hop was a tremendous accomplishment. Now he’s gone. Dead. Overdosed. And I see my reflection again. Could this still be me, could I be next? Am I strong enough to face my pain? Look my demons straight in the eyes and stand up to them? This is my ode to Mac Miller. A reflective look into my own struggles with addiction.
Addictions
Many days my addictions get the best of me. Lately it’s cigarettes, booze, and sex. I find myself powerless over the three. No matter how many times I say I’m not gonna buy a pack of smokes, or that “this is my final one”, I cave and buy another pack. Saying, “I’m only having one beer” is the most blatant of all my lies. And with sex, I find myself so consumed with it some day’s that nothing will get done. Pushing the limits of my fantasies as well as hers, like chasing a high. Sex therapists will tell you that your fetishes are manifestations of early childhood wounds that haven’t been dealt with. But that all sounds a bit vanilla to me, even if I tend to agree.
Booze
A few New Years Eve’s ago I got so trashed that I randomly woke up on an old friends couch. I hadn’t seen him or talked to him in months. “How the hell did I get here?” I asked. “You were passed out in the street. I found you, picked you up, and made sure you got here safe.” Terrific, I thought. I could’ve died. My daughter had just been born. I could’ve left her without a father. I’ve driven drunk more times than I should ever admit, and yet still somehow managed to avoid arrest and/or injury.
When I was still in high school, I drank a fifth of gin straight. I ended up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning and what looked to be a slit wrist. Drowning my sorrows. Hoping that I could somehow make the pain of not fitting-in somehow go away. The method never works. You still somehow end up worse off than you were before you drank.
Drugs
Due to my addictive personality, I’ve never done drugs stronger than weed or alcohol. I couldn’t imagine myself if I did. I’ve seen the effects first hand with relatives and loved ones. Although I never knew Mac Miller, I felt a kinship with him. Like as if I lost a brother in music. I sit and wonder what inner demons he was plagued with. How a guy who had managed to succeed in his dreams felt the need to numb himself to such a degree.
Questions
All these questions start swirling around in my brain. Was it suicide? Was it just an accident? Did he just pass his limit without knowing, like I did that night on New Years Eve? Why was he so depressed? Did Ariana Grande’s recent engagement to Pete Davidson cause him to spiral out of control ? Was it because his album didn’t get the kind of hype that Travis Scott’s did on release? Was Mac Miller killed by the illuminati music industry? So many questions, but no way to know for sure.
Conclusion
The one thing I do know is that we cannot let Mac Millers death be in vein. Mental Health has got to got to be a priority in our lives. We have to rid ourselves of any limiting beliefs and stigmas that come along with therapy. That going to see a therapist does not make us less than, and that as humans we all hurt. Our negative emotions need a place to go. We can’t just keep them bottled up inside of us, expecting that drugs will numb them till they all just eventually fade away. Pain is an inevitable human condition, and we must learn to be one with it. To not hurt is not human. No pain no gain. Make self-care a top priority.
