"Shower to clean my mind, watch soap was down the drain. Broken, I just cry. Is that all I'll ever be?"
Track six: I Should Run | selahluke.com
I Should Run is a cry for help. It’s a fight to be “okay” (i.e. mentally stable) and to be given a reason to stay and struggle through to the other side. It’s a broken heart calling out to be held back from running again, while knowing it’s an option. It’s a scream from the depths of despair, from feelings of hopelessness and longing.
"How am I breathing and drowning?"
Clinical depression is rough. It’s struggling to see the light while standing in the sunshine. It’s wishing you could smile with your whole body and not just with your features. It’s wondering how you can be so sad when you truly can see the best in your life and you’re thankful for it.
If you finally get up the strength to tell someone, often you’re met with some of my favorite words ever: [bitter sarcasm intended] “Just look on the bright side/choose happy / At least [fill in the blank] / Stop being so selfish/ungrateful / Count your blessings / Love yourself / You just need to pray more”
Side note: Can we, as a society, stop doing this? Brushing shit under the rug doesn’t make the floor clean.
Sometimes, choosing happiness and thankfulness is enough. Some forms of depression are temporary: do the work, heal from whatever caused it, and move on. But other times there are legitimate brain chemical imbalances formed from trauma or otherwise that aren’t fixed with happiness, prayer, or natural means. That is what this song refers to.
“Mental scars, wish you could see. Hold me, all I can think is maybe I should run”
When I wrote this song, I was deep in the confusion while much of my life thrived. I was doing the right things and seeing the benefits. I couldn’t understand why I felt so broken while also living joy and peace. One day, I looked at my husband and told him I needed to go. I was terrified that if I stayed, I would somehow continue the pattern and push everyone away, because who can possibly love me with this unexplainable darkness in my mind?
In a way, yes. I did need to choose: I let myself consider my options to leave. I let myself fantasize about the new life I might have. I let myself think of the worst-case scenarios if I didn’t go anywhere. Then I turned to those who knew me best and got medical help. I chose a balanced mind despite the stigma. I chose to rely on my support system and the process. I chose to breathe and heal and learn to be okay. Then I watched the fog roll away and the sun come back. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows every day, but I am thankful I stayed. The other side is worth it.