Ayeisha Raquel
My legs have taken me all over Stratford. Pacing with frozen fingertips to roll my tobacco and numb thumbs at the ready to tap words into my notes. Whatever the weather: when home no longer feels like home, when the voices in my head are all speaking at once, when the silence becomes unbearable and the mask becomes unwearable, I will write.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been highly sensitive. I champion the ‘crybaby’ label with pride, but it took me a long time to accept it. I realised I was depressed when I was 13 years old and tried my very best to deal with it on my own, shutting out friends and family and pretending I was perfectly fine on a daily basis. This created patterns of behaviour that caused me to treat my depression as a secret because I didn’t want anyone to know that part of me. I wanted to be strong and self-sufficient. However, I began to suffer academically, developed unhealthy coping mechanisms as distractions, and I simply just couldn’t stop crying. So naturally, people began to notice and my secret was no longer a secret. By 16, I decided to dedicate time to writing my thoughts in a diary; I was always a writer, but I wanted to exercise my skills at the same time. This is when I found my writing style.
There were things I would write that I had never said out loud. Poetic expressions of pain, isolation, hopelessness, grief, rage. And so I took those parts of my diary entries and turned them into lyrics. One of the earliest examples of this was my second SoundCloud release, ‘Uncomfortable’, the first song I had ever released outlining my experience of depression and anxiety.