On Black Men, Depression and Life Pt 2: A Critical Analysis of The Love Supreme Crisis

"I miss you" ~Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes

It has been 76 days, 15 hrs and umpteen minutes since the Love Supreme Crisis began and while I am still in the midst of this I now have some understanding as to what happened, even if I was powerless to stop it. I now understand there was no malice involved, just a series of mis-communication and complications. It was as Murphy's Law states: "Anything that can go wrong will"; a series of unfortunate events if you will.

Put another way it was (a) the perfect storm. Consider the following:

• Two people with the same agenda but with extremely different methods of achieving the goals.
• Two people with certain mental and emotional quirks, IE she was drained from her previous dynamic and I lack patience to wait a while.
• The conflicting beliefs on the role of individualism in relationships
• My depression and all that it comes with it.

Each of these elements alone would probably have little or no impact, the notable exceptions are 3 and 4 respectively. But combined each one greatly enhanced the other until it reached a boiling point.

If you're new to this blog you're probably asking what is the "Love Supreme Crisis". I will attempt to answer this before I go any further.

My time and dynamic with (the) Queen was given the code name of "A Love Supreme" (inspired by the John Coltrane album of the same name) by me because our journey to be one took place over four parts similar to the album. These parts were Pursuance, Acknowledgement, Psalm and Resolution (the album's format is different). Each of these parts spoke to our journey over the initial two years we tried to make something happen. Pursuance, for example spoke of how we always seem to find each other and to try, no matter what. Acknowledgement speaks to when we finally admitted how we felt and how we believed each other to be our soul mate. It also speaks to us recognizing the truth that we both resurrected each other after some trying times; indeed she single handedly brought by my confidence back. Psalm represents the powerful words we spoke during some trying times in the beginning to re-affirm our faith, and lastly Resolution was our decision to go at it full steam.

So as you can see with one of the greatest Jazz albums as our guide, we had the makings and were supposed to be "A Love Supreme". Without recounting a lot of history, I will say that even though it was a bit problematic at times, this was the happiest time of my life; a moment of peace and bliss...even when I cried. Understanding that "Blessed are those who struggle", we affirmed we would over come the greatest of distances and the longest of years. Everybody who was in our presence appreciated and knew we were the baddest Black couple this side of Barack and Michelle. We were going to be on the cover of Ebony for their Black Couple issue. We were gonna be a power Black couple, we were gonna change peoples definition of love. We were gonna shut the fucking party down do you here me? So naturally when we had a (the) Love Lockdown weekend on April 4th, it because a crisis; my ship had gone and sailed away and with it her voice.

In retrospect, even had I been able to totally eliminate the first 3 problems and problematics, #4 still would have posed a challenge. In fact the seeds for this was planted that night in Borders when I tried to explain depression to her and how it made me feel. As I looked into her eyes and saw them dance with both love and concern, I knew I was possibly planting an ugly seed that would spring forth at the most inopportune time. I looked at the concern on her face and my worries were confirmed when she asked me the universal depression question "You're not gonna jap out or hurt anybody? You ain't never been locked up have you?" Although I smiled and gently answered the question in the negative, I realized in horror that the first time we had a major falling out or I lost my temper in earnest I would be seen as a monster. Future events would prove me correct.

So of course it begs the question of why tell her in the first place. Well I told her because I felt she had a right to know, she was talking about seriously marrying me and I believed she should know about my strengths and my weaknesses. My depression and its realities is apart of that. I had anticipated a depression coming for the holidays, as I was born and raised a Jehovah's Witness I really feel isolated during that time of the year. So basically it was my way of saying "Hey love look, I'm not crazy and I know its a lot the first few months, but its gonna be a bit hectic over the next few weeks." However, in my intellectual honesty I didn't consider a number of things: did she understand clinical depression, if not did she want to understand clinical depression and in a worst case scenario would she be able to endure the storm? I basically just laid it all out without critical assessment. In this moment, I didn't articulate it well enough and I know I planted the wrong seeds.

The second miscue came while I was helping her pack to move and we started discussing old relationships. In conversation she mentioned she left her previous boyfriend because he had gotten depressed and unbearable. I admit I don't remember her exact words as I was too busy staring at her ass, but I didn't speak up and open a dialog. I didn't tell her about the darkness in my soul that rears in ugly head sometimes. Instead I shut up in fear of losing her.

The holidays came and went and while their were bumps in the road I do believe it wasn't a full blown episode. I think there were moments that was depression related, I also believe most of that was two stubborn people trying to force their will on the other, in short we were being hella mean to each other. After the holiday bumps things were good with us, it was indeed a Love Supreme. Or so I thought.

I realized that something was wrong when I started drinking heavily again. That was the first sign. I was trying to dull the pain. I was doing it so hard and heavy (the) Queen commented that "I was drinking irresponsibly". The second sign was that unless I was in the presence of her and our collective sons I generally was not happy. I needed to be with my heirs or her and her sun, preferably both to have a sense of peace. The final sign was my irritability has returned, the minor of things sent me over the edge.

Looking back, I realized that I had not taken my mental health seriously and for a moment I actually forgotten to take care of my illness. This allowed the stress of a dead end job, the difficulty of fixing my credit, the possibility of having a third child by a woman I neither liked nor wanted, an old ex actively trying to disrupt my relationship and the cadre of naysayers to slowly ebb away at the protective hedge I had around me and before I knew it I was depressed although I wouldn't use that word.

I used phrases like "stressed" "tired" and "working to better our relationship". I knew something was wrong and often looked within self to see if I could ascertain the problem. However, my arrogance wouldn't allow me to entertain the notion that I had fallen into a depression, (not now and not with her) brought on by reckless drinking, fucking around with Yohimbe in rude amounts (which I learned brings on panic attacks and anxiety), let me also pause that it was a drug I didn't need and of course stress. I was afraid to try to stress this to my Queen because she is always preaching positivity and happiness and I was honestly afraid that by admitting I was falling into a depression she would leave, like I believed she had done her ex. I am NOT saying she did that or that is what happened, I am merely saying that conversation left me too afraid to probe. So I as humanly possible (and in retrospect not quietly as I thought) I opted to suffer in silence and pray it would pass.

For the most part that plan worked, except when I had said "panic attacks" (see above) and pushed for her to marry me daily we were OK. I had the best Valentine's Day in my life and we were fucking great. Finally, a wedding was in sight and with the woman I had tried for two years to connect with. Problematics aside, Jehovah was blessing my efforts.

However, three things would bring on my depression full swing. First was a request made of me during our first family game night. Again had I been at peak efficiency mentally I assure you I would have shaken the request off, laughed or left. Probably left but there would have been no way I would have allowed it to severely compromise my hull (inner self and shell). The second was learning my zeal was seen by a lot of members in her camp as aggressive, overbearing, and arrogant. For the first time I begin to question my place and role in her life. Again, all normal problems that without the other factors could have been fixed. The final straw, while not brought on by her but I felt it effected her was losing my shitty job. I finally was working and stupid call center shenanigans with hours and such lead to them cutting me. I was hurt because I was trying to fix my credit and move; I needed this lil gig until I took my teachers exam (which I have since passed, yay me), get a teaching gig and further build for my lil family. I also believed a man should help his woman/wife and when I sat at her table unable to help her with her phone bill as I PROMISED, I just melted away. It was hard feeling like a King when I couldn't help; my paranoia from the Nicole era lead me to believe if you don't take care of your woman somebody else will and I just couldn't have that.

But I didn't have the coping mechanisms in place, I had neglected my mental health in a public lie, trying to be brave and act like I didn't have this pack of Black hounds nipping at my heels. I didn't go to my friends for help and again out of some misguided fear I didn't tell (the) Queen. With each day the combination of these factors lead me down a dark path until finally she asked me if I was happy and should we take a break. I knew she was right. I needed to re-center but since I wasn't thinking clearly, since I was now mentally burnt out I thought I was being dumped so she could pursue a happy man and move on. Truth be told, by the time April 4th hit I was an emotional mess. I should have agreed with her assessment and I should have taken my ass to a hospital to heal. But I didn't. I felt going was "weak", nobody would understand and I would lose her for good.

Fucking Ironic right?

Needless to say and if you read some of the links and the Love Supreme series from April and May, you will see that we had a series of further complicated events including one shitty email, several uncomfortable conversations and finally she believing I am a threat to her and some kind of nut. I believe she drew those conclusions because of earlier conversations when I botched talking about my illness and when I refused to be honest even when I was falling fast.

I was afraid to admit to my future(?) wife I was depressed. I needed help. Indeed depression, as John Head wrote in his book on depression and Black men "complications relationships." What would have happened had I been completely honest? Would she had stayed? Would we be healing now together? Would I be up all night lonely, crying and missing both my woman, lover and friend? I don't know.

For the longest time I thought the break up brought on the depression but now I see that it was there already, it had come back. Losing her just removed the barriers and locks I had to keep it in check. I now see it was the final gust of wind to a fragile deck of cards.

So now, I struggle with the lost of a loved one, openly grieving trying to find a place of healing to get over this, but considering that neither of us had all the details, all of the truth and definitely didn't treat each other so unfairly I cant move forward because I believe we ended prematurely.

I don't know if as K Jon sung "if this world is really round then hopefully my ship will come around". I don't know if she even thinks about me, I would like to assume I am on her mind as much as she is on mine. What I do know is in spite of it all I want her to be happy and smile. I do.

I'm pontificating to much and if I keep writing I'll mess up my final entry. I do know today, missing her is a cause of major sadness and I'll never be able to tell her (at least right now) what really happened and how sorry I am for not taking care of myself, if not for her but for the boys. I simply just fell down.

Indeed depression can if let unchecked overcome Black love. Perhaps we'll all learn from this and emerge stronger.

I hope.

But tonight I'm going to listen to some old R&B and remember how I had true Black Love and how my depression cost me that love...

and I will cry freely.

Until the next entry

Straight, No Chaser
TLT
6-18-2009
4:04am