I’m here today, because of Juice WRLD.
Three years ago, I walked into an emergency room and admitted that I needed help. No matter how it looks on the outside, you never know what someone is going through. Sure, my life on the outside was what everyone expected of me. I was doing great off at college, I was playing the role of the son worthy to be proud of. Nobody knew of the hours at night I’d stare off my dorm balcony imagining how freeing it would be to climb over the edge.
It wasn’t like I could talk to other people about my struggles. I was raised in a way that, as a man, I’m supposed to fight my demons in a way so that nobody else can see them: to hide them as best I can. Maybe that worked for my father and his father and so on, but I’m not them. I was taught that seeking help was a sign of weakness. All of this, all my preconceptions of how mental health should be treated, were beautifully rebutted by Juice WRLD. I didn’t need the drugs. I didn’t need to make someone proud in order to be happy. I just needed someone to encourage me. I needed to hear that it was okay to not be okay. Juice WRLD was the voice I listened to that guided me out of my abyss.
I’m not ashamed. I spent ten days in a psychiatric ward under the watchful eye of a staff of nurses as I fought my demons. Now, three years later, I’ve changed many things. I’m no longer medicated whatsoever. I go to therapy regularly. I’m about to secure my first job post-college. I’m living out a life I would’ve taken years ago if Juice WRLD hadn’t given me the courage to keep going. I know that he’s gone, but I make sure that he lives on through me.
Though gone, Juice has taken on the role of a big brother for me. Had a rough day? Blare “Hard Work Pays Off”. Had a great day? Play “Flex”. I can’t express my gratitude enough for Juice WRLD and his message. 999 forever. I love you big bro. The Party Never Ends.
