I've been pretty far removed from the Hedonist this month, and that's been something which has not gone unnoticed. The stunning majority has been an outpouring of support and concern, for which my gratitude is immeasurable. The sullen minority has been taking the opportunity to attack my value as a critic, worth as a human being, and purpose in both the hip-hop community and society as a whole. Before I get going too far though, I'd just like to thank you, all of you, regardless of whether you're a fan or a hater. I mean that, too.
I digress. The question at hand here remains:
"Where the f*ck have you BEEN this month, Hedonist?"
Welp, May 2016 officially gets my vote for the Monday-est month ever. It's been the kind of grind that has left me so unfathomably exhausted that I don't really believe any amount of sleep could ever truly make amends. I'm talking about the kind of burn out that leads to apathy and stagnation. If you've read Frank Herbert's Dune, you understand my disdain for stagnation - it truly is the place wherein a soul dies, and when coupled with depression and a good amount of PTSD, I find myself faced with the terrifying and tempting opportunity to allow the negativity a knock-out win. Honesty: I am one of a HELL of a lot of people who battles mental illness. Also honesty: I used to be really fucking ashamed of it. Also-also-honesty: I'm working unbelievably hard to transform shame into solace - and with that, I'm just gonna go ahead and paint y'all a condensed word picture of my current paradigm.
On the surface, I lead an extraordinarily easy and privileged life, am a happy go lucky people person, and (on the whole) am nothing short of living the dream.
All of these things are true. The truth; however, is tempered by the truths I don't broadcast on the daily.
I spent the majority of May transiently homeless. Kind of. I'd been renting a room in an apartment, and then ended up on the short side of the shit stick when my (now-ex, thank jeebus) roommate invaded my sense of personal safety and overall worth as a human being through an act of voyeuristic exploitation, followed immediately by attempts at extortion. This coupled with the "boy's club" mentality of my (now also ex-also thank jeebus) landlord, who hamstrung me financially. as a human, this was upsetting. As a woman, the experience was so disgustingly invasive and damaging to my sense of worth that it's still a bleeding wound.
The frustration of having a room that was starting to feel like home and was paid for in full that I can no longer even stand the thought of is a good analogy for the type o'way things have been going.
Luckily, my good friends Valkyrie and PersuAsian did not allow me to walk through that moment alone. Val opened her home to me for close to two solid weeks, and neither of my two beauties of great female friends allowed me to take on the blame that was (and still is) not mine to carry. I won't lie - I spent a few long days depressed to the point of barely getting out of bed; however, things started to even out.
Half way through the month, I thought it was all figured out. An acquaintance had a basement suite for rent. Her and I had bonded a few days prior. Then, I tried to do the right thing, which backfired spectacularly - and ended with a relatively callous dismissal from the notion that easier days were directly ahead. Homeless. Again. Couch surfing. Again.
The interpersonal drama at hand here, I don't care to air. It was also stressful (duh). It was also also the kind of situation that I not only felt bad about, but got fucking threatened over. Like, literally threatened. I'm used to being the one people dislike - I've never been popular, so that's not my point here. It also has nothing to do with fear. I'm legitimately not shaken by the threats themselves; rather, the fact that instead of handling things in an adult manner, I'm yet again found at the beating end of the shit stick.
Fast forward through another week and a half of unfortunate events: my cell phone met its untimely death in a puddle, my replacement cell phone and wallet were stolen two days after that, the unpleasantries of having to move yet again.
Find myself here, today, in this very moment. I've got a roof over my head, which is great - but I still have to figure out some financial messiness that's unfortunately out of my hands and concurrently my problem to handle. I don't have enough money in my bank account to take the bus right now. I'm on the peanut butter diet until Friday. I've got more ridiculous rumors and slanderous nonsense filling my inbox than pictures of cats and pizza. It's a serious fucking grind - I mean really. The doctor's orders for me for the past 8 weeks have been to relax...which sounds really nice, but is incredibly hard to do when home is nowhere.
All of these factors have made it unbelievably difficult to carve out any time to spend at the library (I <3 EPL) for reasons other than tearful visits to the best social workers (shouts to Jared and Hilary!) anybody could ever ask for on their team. Y'know, cause when you have to go see rentals and go frolic (uh, I mean, seethe silently while reppressing your rage) through Alberta Works, and go to counseling and doctor's appointments, and try to maintain a somewhat normal social life, you find that the library is often frustratingly closed when 2:30am rolls around and you've finally mustered the mental/emotional/linguistic stamina to sit and write a blog post and set up Hootsuite for the week and update the website.
Why the library, you ask? Well, because computers are expensive. It's not like I mind working from here, but it's an additional gritty to the already grind.
So here I am. And there I was. And there you are, reading this poor me diatribe from some chick who is definitely not perfect. Why bother? What the fuck does this have to do with hip hop?
Everything. at least, to me.
I'm not going to blow smoke up my ass and front like I love the grind. The truth is, I really would like to do without it.
Here's the thing, though. What we want, and what we need - not the same thing, even a little tiny bit.
I didn't want to be so exhausted, so jaded, so ready to play Frogger for the majority of the month, but reflecting on it now, I realize that the grind gave me the push I needed to immerse myself much more fully within the YEG Hip Hop community. For every blog post I didn't write this month, I attended an event and networked and laughed and became a part of a whole. I've grown more as a human being and as a professional this month alone than the cumulative total of the last few years. The opportunities for my life to take a complete and utter fucking nosedive presented themselves in spades - the proof I now have of my capacity to endure, and of the community around me to love and support one another through times of hardship is the greatest gift I've ever been given. My morals and ethics were tested and remain an unshakable part of my very soul.
I lost a few "friends." I gained a lot of family. My wallet is empty, but my notebook is full for the first time in a long, long while.
May almost fucking killed me. Hip hop once again saved my life. My gratitude to you, to all of you, is real and it's immense. Everyone who doubted me, hated on me, used me as a means to transmute their own fears and frustrations gave me the push I needed to socialize, communicate, connect with and foster new friendships with like-minded people. These new friendships are giving me the confidence and support I am indeed lacking in regard to having the balls to take bigger risks and reap bigger rewards. The transient homelessness sucked a big fat one, but also allowed me the opportunity to remember where I have been and to be humbled, to be grateful for where I no longer have to be. The heightened attendance at a plethora of events provides me not only with a physical place to remove myself from the stresses of adulting, but the shove to grab the microphone again. You guys, I can't even begin to tell you how good it has been for my very soul to be freestyling and writing raps again. The community and becoming a teeny tiny part of the microcosm has blessed me with more overwhelming displays of humanity and compassion and empathy and understanding and love, love, love than I even knew was possible.
Rap is something that we do. Hip hop, how we live.
Thank you, all of you.
For everything.
As I walked to the library this morning, I realized that Atmosphere hit the nail on the head. The sunshine, sunshine is fine; and as I felt it on my skin, warming up my mind, on the last day of a month that's made me give in to losing (in order to win)?
I love the days when it shines.
I love the days when the grind leaves me shining.
So let it grind.
With that, peace and good vibes from my soul to yours. I can't wait to see where the next 4 weeks will take us...
Respectfully,
-The Hedonist.
