January 20, 2010
7:00AM
The day began like any other. I woke up at 7 after going to bed around 3 or 4. I stayed in bed staring at the ceiling, waiting for my son to wake up before I dragged myself up. He had gone to bed later than usual as well, so there were no signs of him stirring. I replayed in my head all that I needed to do that day. Get up. Brush my teeth. Get him up. Get him dressed. Wash his face. Brush his teeth. Make him toast. Get his coat on. Manipulate him into the car. Answer every question he can throw at me between the driveway and the 10 minute drive to his daycare. When I got home, I needed to do laundry, get showered and get ready for my noon meeting at Busboy’s, then pack for…
7:15AM
“It’s sunny outside, mommy!”
My son’s voice broke me out of my haze. Boogie was awake.
“It sure is, baby. That means…”
“SCHOOL!” he yells.
“Yup. Let’s get upstairs.”
My son and his penguin pajamas raced down the hall towards the stairs. Right before he was about to scramble up the stairs on his own, he turned to me and raised his arms. The universal, “carry me.” symbol. Ordinarily, I would have said, “No. You’re a big boy. Big boys can do it by themselves.” But today, I bent over and lifted my baby boy into my arms. He wrapped his arms around me and buried his face into my neck. “I’m smelling you, mommy.” I didn’t trust my voice to stay even so I just squeezed him tighter and nodded.
7:45AM
My son was dressed in his green winter coat and clutching a piece of toast. We were running a little late and I couldn’t find his backpack.
“Boogie, where’s Diego?”
“It’s not here. I can’t find it.”
“I know but where is it? Where did you see it?”
“I can’t see it.”
“Sweetheart…. Where. Is. Your. Back. Pack.”
It took every ounce of strength I had to keep my voice steady. This was not the morning for this. I was doing all I could to hold it together one broken string could send the entire thing tumbling and this was not the morning for this.
“It’s on the chair.”
The breakfast table chair. The chair right behind me. I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes. “Just a few hours.” I said to myself.
8:00AM
In the car, Boogie began his daily ritual of narrating the trip to school.
“There’s a man. There’s the gas house. There’s a car. That’s a tree. That’s another tree. And another… And another… Mommy, can I have a car?”
I listened to him go on and on answering questions between the pauses. Not sure how to tell him what I needed him to know. When we pull up to his daycare, I turned off the car and just sat there.
“Get out of the car, mommy.”
“Just a second, baby.”
I decided to talk to him on the walk to the front door. The quicker the better. I wanted this to be painless. I never really know what it is he understands.
We walked up to the door and took his hand.
“Boogie, you know how sometimes I go away for a little bit.”
“Uh huh”
“And Kebe gets you from school? And you sleep with Grandma and Grandpa?”
“Uh huh.”
“And then mommy isn’t the house but I call you every single day?”
“On the phone!”
“Yes! On the phone. I talk to you every single night before bed…”
“Uh huh.”
“Well, mommy’s going away for a few days. Do you understand?”
“Yes…”
At 3, Boogie was already used to me traveling for gigs and shows. When he was younger, he used to come with me. He’s been on so many planes before the age of 2 than most adults. As he got older, I wanted him to feel rooted to something, so I enrolled him in a daycare.
At the door, I kneel so that we’re big pair of eyes to bigger pair of eyes. His adorable face a little sadder than before.
“I’ll be back very, very soon. and Kebe and everyone is going to play with you and you’ll have fun. And then I’ll be back!”
Boogie nods quietly and I ring the doorbell. His, teacher Ms. Dea, opens the door with her unbridled enthusiasm. I’ve spoken to her already so she knows the situation. She smiles sympathetically at me, then turns and offers my son a great, big, ‘GOOD MORNING!”
Boogie spots his partner in crime, Z. Z was a year older than Boogie and from the second they met, they were friends and co-conspirators. She was a gorgeous little girl, reminded me of a mini Lauryn Hill. I need to get used to my baby rushing off and forgetting me for some girl already. I sign the sign in sheet and remind Ms. Dea that my brother will be picking him up this evening. She nods.
“Boogie…. can I have a hug and a kiss?”
His coat already off, my son steps towards me with his lips puckered. I bend over and kiss him. He then throws his body towards me embracing my legs. I blink back quickly to avoid what I know is coming.
“I’ll see you soon, baby. I love you.”
“Ok. I love you. I miss you.”
That does it. I wipe away a renegade tear and turn to leave. I give Ms. Dea a nod and jog back to the car. I turn on the ignition and melt all over the steering wheel.
8:37AM
On the drive home, I want to call and cancel this noon meeting. I’m not sure if I can sit through it and act professionally. But if I cancel, she’s not going to want to work with me and I need to get this career moving again. The last 3 years have been frozen with just bits of and moments, I need it full swing again. And I know she can help do this. I need to get it together. At least for a few more hours.
My cell phone on the kitchen counter where I left it in a rush to get out the door. The green indicator light is blinking. My anxiety starts not knowing who or what it could be.
It’s Megan asking if we can move the meeting back a few hours. I feel a bit of weight drop off my shoulders. I text her back and explain that I have somewhere to be this afternoon. But we should definitely reschedule for next month. She tells me to take care of myself. I know she means it. I tell her I will.
9:30AM
I’ve been sitting on the couch staring at the TV. I’m not sure what I’m watching but I do know I need to start the laundry so I can pack. I gather the clothes I might need. I’ll wear the jeans so that doesn’t need to be packed. One sweatshirt, 5 t-shirts, 3 pairs of socks, pajama pants, sweat pants… the sweatshirt I want to take and my two favorite pajama pants need to be washed. I run upstairs and throw them in the washer. I don’t know where my black Puma bag is but I’ve decided that’s the only thing I want to take with me. It’s big enough to hold the stuff I need but small enough to tell the universe, that I don’t plan on staying long. This is how I think. This is probably why this trip is necessary.
10:00AM
I find the Puma bag in my son’s room. It’s filled with all his books, a Batman slipper and about 30 Hot Wheels. I find another bag to dump all his contents but keep one of the Hot Wheels. Before I head to the basement, I transfer the laundry from the washer to the dryer, I push the button and run downstairs. Now that my meeting is canceled, I feel like I can leave a little earlier. Now that my meeting is canceled, I start to have second thoughts about going.
10:30AM
My sister and various friends remind me why this is important. I tell myself, that I will leave here by 1. I pack the clean clothes and a few books. I also pack the journal I bought New Year’s Eve. I don’t like writing by hand. I have the penmanship of a 9 year old boy with no fingers. Plus my brain moves too fast for my hand. Typing is the only way I can keep it. I know that I can’t bring my laptop with me and not writing is not an option so the journal it is. Before I’ve even packed the clothes, I realize that the bag is already too heavy. I have to remove a few of the books. I take out all the ones I’ve already read and choose two that I never even knew I had. The author and I share a book agent so I figured it would be inspiration to get my proposal done.
Noon
The View is the blackhole of daytime TV. I don’t even like the damn show but I sat down just for hot topics and then that Hasslebeck reached into my chest and stole an hour of my soul. I was just about to go up and check on the laundry when I remembered the Wendy Williams Show was on. I need something completely ridiculous before the hard part starts. I can leave at 2.
1:00PM
I haven’t showered yet. For someone with no real set time to get there, why do I feel like I’m running late. Because I’m always running late. And I forgot to pack my toiletries. I’m going to need my own stuff. My own soap and poof and toothpaste and toothbrush and moisturizer and lotion and body oil and deodorant. I run around the bathroom collecting the items and tossing them in the bag. I remember the clothes in the dryer and run upstairs. If I get those in the bag, I can still make it out of here by 2.
I forgot to turn the dryer on. I thought I’d pushed the right button but I forgot to set the timer so the clothes are still damp. I can feel the heaviness in my chest. This isn’t a big deal. You still have time just do it now. I wipe away the first tear and try to concentrate on getting it right this time. I ignore all the noise and just do it right this time.
1:30PM
The shower helps everything blend. You can pretend the wet is solitary. I hope it stops when I get out.
2:00PM
It doesn’t. I feel like I’m hyperventilating. I can’t stop crying and I can’t breathe. I’m afraid I’m going to drown on dry land. It would be just ridiculous enough to have it happen to me. I’m starting to panic. I can’t do this. I won’t do this. I can take care of it on my own. That’s what people do. They deal with this on their own.
I call my sister to tell her that I can’t do this. That I won’t. That I’m fine. She tells me that this call just proves that you can’t. You need to go. Everything will be fine. Forget the money. Forget everything. Just go. I nod. Yes.
2:30PM
I’m sitting on the bed with one leg in my jeans and one arm in my shirt. I tell this to the friend on the phone. She says she wishes she had a picture of this. I laugh for the first time and I mean it. Then the panic and tears start again.
“What if I can’t do this?”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re doing this. We’re going to do it together.”
This helps. I think about the one who doesn’t call. Wouldn’t answer the phone if I did. I push him out of my mind. He doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t care.
3:00PM
My brother drives deliberately. Not quite sure where it’s located. He turns in one direction then another and finally spots it. My heart beats a little faster.
“You Ok?” He asks, his face a mask of stoic concern.
“Yeah. I’m good.”
He maneuvers the car through the parking lot and I tell him not to park. He doesn’t have to wait. I’ll walk myself in.
“You sure? Because I can park…”
“I’m sure. I’ll just ask someone when I get inside. Besides it’s almost time for you to go get Boogie.”
“Ok. well… Good luck. Call when you know something.”
“I will. Thanks for driving me.”
“No problem, Sis.”
3:45PM
I stand outside for a few minutes and watch my brother drive away. The entrance doors look huge. I’m probably all the way on the wrong side of this massive building. A Latina woman with a soft kind face and a badge walks by.
“Excuse me, ma’am.” I stop her.
“Yes, sweetie…” She has the softest, sweetest hint of an accent.
“I’m looking for the Emergency Room.”
She smiles and says, “Oh easy, just go through these doors and follow the signs all the way around to the other side.”
4:05PM
I finally found the Emergency Room waiting room. I look around and scan all the people anxiously waiting for news about loved ones. There’s an old man perched on the edge of his seat. He’s not interested in the TV or the Glamour magazines next to him. Before I can approach the desk, he stands quickly and says, ‘My wife… I just need to know about my wife.” There’s a woman sitting behind the help desk, she is heavy set but not too big. If this was the deep south, she’d be plump and charming. Her blonde bouffant hair do adds to this. She takes the man by the hand and leads him to the back. I hope his wife is ok.
I stand around not sure if I should sit down or leave or wait for the plump blonde bouffant to return. I decide to do both. But just as I’m about to take a seat, she returns with a huge smile on her face. I can’t help but think that this smile would be more at home at the hospitality room of a Best Western somewhere than the Emergency Room of a suburban hospital. I approach her cautiously, not sure what I’m going to say.
“Yes, Sugar?” She smiles. How’d I know she was going to call me sugar?
“Can I help you? You lookin’ for someone?”
“No.” My voice comes out in a hoarse whisper.
I clear my throat and try again, ‘No… ” I decided to add a “ma’am” to compete with her “sugar”.
She smiles as she waits for me to finish.
“I’m here for the Behavioral Health Unit”, my voice is thin as I struggle with my emotions,
“I think that’s what they call the Psych Ward now.”
“Who are you here to admit, darling? And why?” She has her pen poised to fill out the forms.
I bite my lip to keep from sobbing, haphazardly brushing the stubborn tears off my face.
She asks again, “Who are you here to admit?”
“Me. I’m here to check myself in for severe depression. It’s gotten worse and I need help.”
Jamille
01/27/2010 at 7:06 pm
I’m proud of you B. One step at a time; day by day. Love yourself and mean it. It is the yourself part and meaning it that matter.
Oh and I wish you could’ve posted a pic half dressed. That wouldve been hilarious. Enough laughter to break through the clouds is beneficial even for a second.
Jamille
01/27/2010 at 7:11 pm
I’m so proud that you didn’t allow your fear to prevent you from taking this step. I really wish someone was able to snap the one arm one leg pic. Every once in a while a laugh at ourselves helps to clear the cobwebs or break the gray clouds if only for a second.
Love yourself and mean it. It is the yourself and mean it that are the most important.
[fung'ke][blak][chik]
01/27/2010 at 7:13 pm
I have been in Sorrow’s kitchen and licked out all the pots. Then I have stood on the peaky mountain wrapped in rainbows, with a harp and sword in my hands. ~Zora Neale Hurston
Robyn
01/27/2010 at 8:47 pm
you are brave and amazing.
Heather
01/27/2010 at 10:55 pm
im glad you are helping yourself be healthy.
lots of love ~
2tfrutti
01/27/2010 at 11:45 pm
Be strong Bassey, we would get through this together. We miss you on twitter, but it is important you do this for yourself and boogie, thats all that matters at the end of the day. The sun’s gonna shine again, xxx
Luvvie
01/28/2010 at 12:37 am
Thank you for sharing. You’ve got much courage, Bassey. This is clear. Sending you good vibes.
Much love.
Retrospect
01/28/2010 at 2:05 am
Remember that one of the strongest things anyone can do is ask for help. It is the truest sign of courage and bravery. In doing that, you have grown stronger than you may know, and you will be able to help others. Most positive wishes of love and hope to you.
Debs
01/28/2010 at 2:37 am
Amazing, brave, courageous, and determined. I just did the ABC’s of why I feel you’re wonderful.
I’ve been treated for depression in the past as well. I endured my teenage years without a clue. My twenties were barely better. When I hit 32 I succumbed to the hormones of an accidental pregnancy. Emotionally I became a wreck out of control. The termination of that pregnancy, then a cross country move took me home. Face to face with the source of so much of my anxiety and unresolved angst, I came to realize I hated my mother. Growing up with years of emotional, verbal, physical and psychological abuse from this woman, played a big role in me living out of state since the age of 19. I thought I was strong enough. This is when I went into therapy. That was 15 yrs ago. Some days are better than others, but at least now I recognize when I’m headed that way again. Good luck,be well and stay blessed. Thank God you too know how to recognize.
xoliquoricexo
01/28/2010 at 3:55 am
you’ll be okay, bassey
you will. take good care.
xo
Ash
01/28/2010 at 9:34 am
I wish you the best of luck and take care of your self.
J. Nicole
01/28/2010 at 10:07 am
I am amazed by your openness, Bassey. Thank you for sharing and I am most certainly sending positive energy your way!
Shivon
01/28/2010 at 5:05 pm
Bassey,
I will keep you in my prayers. You can and will get through this. Thank you for sharing and being so honest. It is a beautiful attribute that you have. I miss you on Twitter but know that your leaving is what is best. Take care Mama
Shivon
Nikki
01/28/2010 at 8:14 pm
You’re always in my thoughts and prayers, Ms. B. You will come through this more awesomer (yes!) than we’ve ever seen you!
Mmabatho
01/29/2010 at 10:08 am
En my friend just spent 2 weeks in hospital for severe depression as well…If she is now as fine as a baby so will you….Ul be fine B, en i love you so much…..ul be well soon en hopefully come back to South Africa again. LOVE YOU!!!
Bet
01/29/2010 at 2:01 pm
Just wow. Thank you for sharing.
Jewel
01/29/2010 at 11:34 pm
i am proud of you for being so courageous. i went in… on a stretcher… because of the .22 i had pointed to my head…. i love you bassey… thank you for telling our story
Deborah
01/30/2010 at 11:22 am
Bassey. I don’t know what to say. You bless us with your talent and we have nothing to give back. I commend your courage and wish you all the best. One day at a time Bassey. We will always be here for you but you are your greatest supporter. I love you Miss B!!
Emelia
01/30/2010 at 8:47 pm
I’ve said it before but your willingness to bare all astounds me each and every time. That is true artistry. Much love and light your way.
internationalsoulburbansista
01/30/2010 at 10:53 pm
Proud of you Bassey…take it one day @ a time sis…
sepiasoul
01/31/2010 at 11:52 pm
i love that you are brave enough to post your experiences. it really is helping other people. truly. sending love!!
-amaka
Margaret
01/31/2010 at 11:58 pm
Bassey~You are such a courageous person! I don’t know you on a personal level, but I know that you are a brave and awesome person. Take it one day at a time and please take care of yourself.
One day at a time.
Kojo Baffoe
02/01/2010 at 2:17 am
Much love and strength to you Bassey. You do what you need to do to continue to be a wonderful mother to E and to live life wholeheartedly. We are here, albeit across oceans.
Love
Kojo
Hakikah
02/01/2010 at 8:09 pm
Dear Bassey~
I know. You are loved and prayed for.
Tosin
02/02/2010 at 8:44 am
I love you and I am SO PROUD of YOU
Scared & Ashamed
02/11/2010 at 6:35 pm
i wish i had the strength and courage to do as you did. Your words are mine. You do the things I cannot do. I am becoming more understanding of my problems as I hear you speak on yours.
I especially appreciate the words you spoke today on twitter. I needed to hear them even though I am still too afraid to speak up and cry out for help. Thank you.
Marikai
02/11/2010 at 9:46 pm
Bassey,
You are courageous and inspiring. Keep fighting.
Gem
02/14/2010 at 9:09 pm
I’m so glad I found this and your story. God bless you.
Toni
02/22/2010 at 1:58 am
Wow!!! Thank you for sharing. i admire your courage and strength to do what you need to do. I know how difficult it is because I am facing the same issue myself. Your courage has given me the strength and inspiration to do the same. It is weird because a few weeks ago I made a comment on one of your fb posts, and you knowing nothing about me said that I was depressed. it hit me hard and since then i have been grappling with the fear of seeking help and what that means. Now I will no longer hide behind that fear.
Thank you
Kat
02/23/2010 at 3:36 pm
Oh honey… I don’t know you, but I want to hug you.
Grace
02/28/2010 at 10:54 am
I’m following you on twitter and decided to check out your blogspot. I must say I’m lost for words! I felt ur tears,had some of my own while reading it. I’m glad that u sought the reason to did what u have to do! The connection you had with ur son and how hurt u were to leave him!! Sigh** I hope you feel better!
Much love
Olivia
04/07/2010 at 4:28 pm
You truly inspire me…and you have my infinite support.
Looooove,
Olivia
BP
04/19/2010 at 10:43 pm
I have read this post a few times but never had the courage to comment until today…
When it hurts so bad…we must take the steps to heal. I can’t say enough what others have said on this post. But I really admire your courage to take care of yourself and then share your journey with us… you are my supershero!! really and truly!!
with much respect,
b
Bella King
04/26/2010 at 1:06 pm
I have to say that I applaud you for having the courage to do this, especially because you have a young one to consider. I suppose, that fact alone would or should be enough to those of us who undertsand your struggle to be brave enough to follow you so that we can be healthy for ourselves but mostly for our progeny. This post touched me in so many ways; I was completely swept into the way you expertly wove such a heartrending story into such a moving piece that just sucks you in. I imagine that it permeated my being so much because I had the misfortune of living this from a child’s perpective of having a mother jumping put of windows and swallowing pills on numerous occasions to end a pain that noone around her could begin to comprehend in a time when noone understood mental illness. And now, my challenge, is to know this pain from the inside as well while trying to parent 3 children who need me to be whole. I will be following your posts and hope that I, too, can be motivated to seek the help I need so desparately. I have planned and reneged because I have a chronically ill child who needs care that I trust no one to give without hiccups and issues. So, I will read and follow your progress and pray that my time shall come soon. I stumbled upon you in a quest to start my own blog about “living” with bipolar disorder. I was hoping to use it as a form of cathartic therapy until I could check into a facility. Thank you for being so open. Somehow, you wrote with much more eloquence and clarity what I wanted to say. I wish you continued progress.
Judy
05/13/2010 at 2:55 pm
altho the pain is there, you write beautifully.
Arroneeks
06/08/2010 at 4:31 pm
Just want to say what a great blog you got here!
I’ve been around for quite a lot of time, but finally decided to show my appreciation of your work!
Thumbs up, and keep it going!
Cheers
Christian,Earn Free Vouchers / Cash
Dale Clemens
08/05/2010 at 7:47 am
Thank you for sharing this story! There is times in life when we all get depressed, and wonder just how we are gonna make it another day! If it weren’t for friendship and another caring spirit ,I would be ready to give up , but you always think of me and share Gods words! For this I am very beholding to you friend! And may the Lord always lift you spirits up! says brother Dale
Li
09/20/2010 at 9:53 pm
COURAGE.
That’s what you have.
Wishing you all the blessings in the world on that road….
Best,
Li
@HerDeepThoughts
@LaLicenciada
LalaJackson
09/20/2010 at 9:54 pm
I hadn’t even realized you had posted this, so thank you for tweeting about it. Your tweets and your blogs have given me a lot of clarity. I’ve always been terrified of medication – of the idea that it will change me. But you made a good point a while ago that medication that is working should just make you return to your real self. I admire your courage and thank you for helping me get to a point where I’m not scared to talk to my Mom and friends about this because I’m scared they won’t understand. My health insurance kicks in on Oct 1 and then its Step 1 on my journey towards trying to be okay. Thanks for the example, Bassey.
Much love,
Lala
MeliSsa
09/20/2010 at 10:00 pm
Wow! You are so brave. Knowing and ASKING for help is not easy. God bless and I hope I have your courage one day.
Roseline
09/21/2010 at 12:38 pm
Wow, I don’t know why this is so emotional for me but I’m happy for you. I’m glad you were courageous enough to seek the help you needed. Sometimes we take depression very lightly, I know I’ve been guilty many a times of this, but it can happen to ANYONE and this proves it. As a Nigerian, I know I didn’t even used to believe or give it that much thought because I felt as long as I had my family around, they would always keep me sane and grounded but this definitely puts things into perspective for me. I’m honored, keep trucking on! I’m so glad I got to read this.
@wittyroz