Rasul Depression in My DNA
The ConTextos Authors Circle was developed in collaboration with young people at-risk of, victims of, or perpetrators of violence in El Salvador. In 2017 this innovative program expanded into Chicago to create tangible, high quality opportunities that nourish the minds,,expand the voices and share the personal truths of individuals who have long been underserved and underestimated. Through the process of drafting, revising and publishing memoirs, participants develop self-reflection, critical thinking, camaraderie and positive selfprojection to author new life narratives.
Since January 2017 ConTextos has partnered with Cook County Sheriff's Office to implement Authors Circle in Cook County Department of Corrections as part of a vision for reform that recognizes the value of mental health, rehabilitation and reflection. These powerful memoirs complicate the narratives of violence and peace building, and help author a hopeful future for human beings behind walls, their families and our collective communities.
While each author’s text is solely the work of the Author, the image used to create this book’s illustrations have been sourced by various print publications. Authors curate these images and then, using only their hands, manipulate the images through tearing, folding, layering and careful positioning. By applying these collage techniques, Authors transform their written memoirs into illustrated books.
This project is being supported, in whole or in part, by federal award number ALN 21.027 awarded to Cook County by the U.S. Department of the Treasury.
Rasul Depression in My DNA
Depression: A psychological disorder marked by sadness, activity or difficulty in thinking and concentration, the feeling of dejection.
Depression: A period of low general economic activity with widespread unemployment
My name is broken, a storm in the making. I was born into this world of madness on October 7th 1983. from childhood I always felt alone and unwanted, even unloved at times. Since childhood I carried the weight of the world on my shoulders. I've seen a lot and I've been through a lot more. I still remember those Dreadful nights like they were yesterday. My mother crying and screaming after being some niggaz punching bag. You see, these are just a few of the stressful situations that made me mad. I'd always say, I can't wait until I get big.
Not knowing I became an adult while still being a kid.
Damn I'm fighting demons. my eyes are bleeding tears of rain, My heart is full of emotional strain. Trying to shake this clouded brain, Cuz mental health is not a game. Medication made me change
My childhood is not worth remembering, see that's just the beginning I look in the mirror and all I see is a broken spirit, who has no life left
Constant thoughts of suicide, voices got me on the edge Way too much blood on my hands, I can't even sleep
You want me to get deep
Imagine seeing one of your niggaz get hit by a train
Imagine seeing one of your friends blow out the other one ’ s brain
This pain runs so deep and I bottled it all up as it came Then life’s ills turn to depression and depression turn to pain I still remember scooter dying from a tumor on the brain
Then TayTay got sick, she died in the hospital after choking on her spit Tony takes Jerome's gun and shoots him and his mom ' s in their shit
Are y 'all ready for me to quit?
They left little Jay in the park just past dark They shot little Charlie on the pole They did Tony Norton Cole They left slim by the tracks They did BD to the max Booga killed Bone and Mac Fuck, I feel an anxiety attack
It's crazy I'm back in this cage
I lost my mama to the depression and rage
They took Fai and Jeremiah at an early age
Now two of my babies are in a cold ass grave
Now do you see the person this depression has made
Think on it and after this let me know if there is depression in my DNA.
This story is about a young man that came from nothing and was broken to his core all because he wanted to protect the one person he was seeking love from. His mother, who was a single parent for as long as I can remember.
My mother had three kids, my older sister who I loved and adored and a brother that was a year older than me, the baby of the bunch. My mother did her thing as a single parent; she made sure we had what we needed every holiday and birthday. My big sister didn’t live with us; she stayed with my grandparents most of her life.
Growing up I always felt my mother favored my sister and my brother over me, I mean I got in trouble for everything and they didn’t.
We all did good in school for the most part but me being an attention seeker kept me in some shit. I wanted attention so bad I had started acting out at school really bad which caused me to get my ass whooped and put on punishment.
Let’s go back for a second. I am from the westside of Chicago. Around the age of three or four, I fell out the first floor window and I didn’t cry. My mother would always say you still didn’t learn your lesson because you got right back up there.
That’s why they started calling me crazy and telling me I acted like my uncle Philip on my fathers’s side of the family.
Now uncle Philip didn’t care about nothin. He didn’t take no shit from nobody no matter who they were. He was a protector and that was who I wanted to be. My uncle got locked up when I was about five or six years old for murder. I didn’t see him for about twenty plus years.
Back to present, my mother for some strange reason almost always picked the weirdest dudes to date. I say that because the shit that came with these niggaz was the biggest problem for me. The first time was when I heard my mother screaming after a loud slapping sound that woke me up out of my sleep, I was like ten or eleven.
I shake my brother who is sleep next to me, he wakes up. I ask him, “did he hear that?” and he says no. So I tell him to go check on ma. He just lays there. A few minutes later the room door is opened and my mother’s boyfriend at the time comes out with his coat and shoes on while ma is behind him, begging him not to go. When she comes back in, I’m right there to see a big bruise on her face and she’s crying. So I ask her what happened and she replies “Nothing. Stay in a child's place and go back to bed.”
Not before I ask ma “Why he hit you?” She yells at me go to bed now! I do as I was told.
See this was the shit I had to deal with as a shorty on numerous occasions. I would always say I can’t wait until I get big so I can kick his ass. Around the age of twelve enough was enough. Over the years I’d grown angry and rebellious. I was tired of watching my mother be abused. One day in particular, I came home from school and my mother has a towel over her eye. So I asked what happened and she replies she has a star, but I see right through the bullshit.
So as soon as her boyfriend comes out of the room I punch him clean in the face knocking his glasses off. I kept on swinging until my mother slapped me. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back for me. This was the worst thing she could have ever done to me. This was a huge blow to my already broken ego. Yeah, she whooped my ass for taking up for her.
I was so angry, I was so hurt, so I yelled I wish I was dead. Having the lady I was seeking love from, the woman who I’m trying to protect take a niggaz side over her child hurt drastically.
After that encounter my whole demeanor changed for the worse and my mother saw it first hand. I was down. I was still trying to see what I’d done wrong. I couldn’t see how I let this go on for so long and not do nothin only to do something and be embarrassed.
My brother was no help, but what did I expect? He didn't even take up for his damn self. I got worse and worse at school as well, I’m constantly getting into fights and getting suspended.
One particular day I get into a fight with this boy and his cousin tries to jump in, but my homie helped me. The fight then turns into a brawl. The gym teacher at the time, Mr. Boatwright, tries to break the fight up, but in the midst of doing so he chokes me. Me not thinking, I grab a chair and hit him with it. When they get control of the situation they call the police and our parents. They then tell my mother that the gym teacher wants to press charges on me.
When my mother asked me what happened I told her that the boy and I were fighting and the gym teacher choked me so I hit him with a chair. My mother then asks why’d he choked me and he says he didn’t try to. My mother starts going off which was a huge ego booster. She tells the police she wants to press charges as well.
The counselor at the school asks my mother and the gym teacher if there is any other way they could solve this issue. He then suggests that my mother get me some help for my anger. The happiness I felt knowing my mother had my back was short lived.
That same day the counselor and my mother took me to this hospital called Hartgrove where we talked to a lot of doctors and counselors stating that I needed help as well. I didn't know these people, hell yea I was mad.
When my mother got finished with the paperwork I guess it was protocol the security all surrounded me. I'm wondering what's going on when they take my mother out of the room. I start spazzin out which leads me to being strapped to a bed and given a shot that puts me down. When I came to I was in a room by myself to find out this was a mental health hospital/ behavioral modification center. I stayed in that place for three weeks. That shit changed my life for the worse.
Seeing kids on a daily basis get stuck with what they called the booty juice this was a huge eye opener for me. It didn’t stop me from feeling abandoned by my mother. Remember, I always felt unwanted and unloved as the black sheep of the bunch.
The day I went home made me feel like a human project because that medication had me in my own little world. This shit made me lash out even more. It was like the medication made me want to kill myself. It was like the medication made me more and more depressed. I ended up on numerous occasions trying to take my life every time I got mad or took that medication.
I’m a living testament that there really are two sides to evil. I lost my mother who committed suicide because she had mental health issues. She suffered from manic and chronic depression.
In life I've learned that shit happens. But from my experience you never judge a book by the cover, because you never know what a person is going through. And to my beautiful babies, I want you all to know that it's okay to talk to somebody.
Just know that I love you no matter what, and always protect. Mama was sick but knowing what I know now all she wanted was the same thing as me, love. And now it's too late. To the people of the world I hope my story touches your heart and makes a difference in your lives. People all over the world are suffering from mental illness mainly being misdiagnosed or given wrong medications. I just know I'm going to shine light on us, because mental health is real.
if my scars could talk.
Adrenaline pumping like a hardcore drug coursing through my veins.
Head in the clouds, staring at nothing in particular “damn”
It hurts to even think
If my scars could talk they'd say go get us a drink.
You can see the depression in my walk
You can hear “the stress in my talk shit”
I still see the bodies outlined in chalk
Man fuck if my scars could talk
Maybe because of pain I've caused others
My heart cries daily my scars bleed daily
No one to ask how I feel lately
If my scars could talk they say talk to somebody baby
I'm damaged Beyond repair
Contemplating suicide the Grim Reaper is talking over me
If my scars could talk they say just let us be
As you can see this shit gets deep
I even caught myself having an argument with my scars in my sleep
No one to turn to in my time of need
My old scars are watching my new scars bleed
Please just don't take this the wrong way
Just listen to what I’ve got to say
I have no heart, it left me on that dreadful day, 1/20/23
This shit scares me beyond belief
I'm feeling the effects of my PTSD
With all these scars, shit, they made me hate me
Rasul
I Am From
I'm from The Windy City, where people get gritty
I'm from a broken family with no morals
I'm from a 65 unit apartment building where everybody stuck together
I'm from K-Town, where money flood big bodies rode and dope was sold
I'm from where every corner you see a hype sucking his own dick
Doing the dope fiend lean
I'm from where 20-year niggaz murk each other
I'm from the gutter
I'm from Grandma fridge was empty with nothing but baking soda and butter
I'm from where we use to hold bowls and spoons on grocery day
I'm from where if one fight, all fight
I'm from where friends is more blood than so called blood
I'm from if you not from around here, don’t come around here
I'm from in order to fit in you got to win
I'm from Mama's pinto beans and Jiffy Mix cornbread
I'm from Sunday dinners, oxtail soup cabbage, green sweet potatoes real life soul food
I'm from where Mama made sure you had clean clothes and a home cooked meal
I'm from where mama did her thing as a single parent
I'm from my mama
