Greetings to all my fellow #Jews and other humans. Yom Kippur is a solemn but deeply meaningful day on the #Jewish calendar. It is the holiest of all days. #YomKippur has gone from something I ignored for 30 years to something that helped clarify and empower my life last year after going through one of the worst crises I have ever faced.
What is Yom Kippur TO ME? Yom Kippur is a time for quiet rest from work, prayer for some and meditation for others, for mindfullness, for brutally honest reflection, and for fasting (which quite honestly enhances all that I previously listed)
Those who know anything about me know I am an atheist Jew. Racially and genetically, I am as much a Jew as my black friends are black. You just don't see it in my skin. (Though arguably the nose is a dead giveaway) I care deeply about my place in this world as one of very few Jews left alive. For this reason, most of us are a lively and active bunch hell bent on making a difference. Religious or not, Jews tend to feel strongly about social justice and repairing the world around us whenever possible.
I went to a Kol Nidre service last night. There are times I have live streamed that service from Central Synagogue in #NYC. #KolNidre is a beautiful, holy, deeply moving service. It touches the hearts of believers and atheists alike. At the service last night, I heard something from a rabbi that gave me pause. Now, before I go any further, and without naming this rabbi, I will say that I truly love and respect him and his family. They are wonderful members of the community at large and just great people.
I am paraphrasing here, halfway through my fast, but this was said: of the three things one must bring to temple and to the Yom Kippur holiday, the first and most important is a faith in god. And without that faith, everything else is just a show with good music, it would have no meaning. I didn't know how to react. Yom Kippur is a time when I do things to heal my soul. Whether it is picking up a guitar and writing songs; or writing a letter to my father disclosing everything I have ever wanted to say to him (as I did last year); or looking back at the failures of the last year of my life and not simply owning up to my part in them, but vowing to change my behaviors, responses and actions in the future.
Yom Kippur is good for ALL Jews. Even ones like me who have no faith in a god. I have faith in others, and I have faith in myself. And while I struggle constantly with those two faiths, they were the other two pieces of the three things one must bring to this holiday. For people who have been mistreated, abused, molested, beaten, stolen from, discriminated against, raped, mugged, or verbally or physically assaulted, trust comes about as easy as winning the lottery. My story is my own and I share it from time to time, but in this, I am speaking universally.
We exist in a time marked by hatred, mistrust, violence, greed, misogyny, xenophobia, anti-semitism, islamaphobia, gun violence, racism, poverty, bigotry, and so on. Many times over the past 8 years, I have wanted to give up, pack all my things, and leave Nashville. But upon honest reflection, I can see, even as an atheist, that my life has purpose and meaning here. When I encounter hatred, I combat it with love. When I encounter greed, I offer generosity. When I encounter xenophobia and bigotry, I counter with calm conversation and questions about why someone might hate. When I encounter poverty, I offer my services and volunteer to help children who have very little hope. I can do much more of this and I certainly hope to.
Yom Kippur is a Jewish holiday, but the concept of reflection and vowing to improve our lives and our positive impact on the world around us is a beautiful notion that all humans would benefit from. I could write a list a mile long of everything I have done wrong over the last year, everyone I called an asshole and worse (despite them earning it) everyone I felt the urge to retaliate against who had wronged me instead of simply letting it go. On Yom Kippur more than any other day, I am in touch with the reality that in those instances, it is I who suffers, not them. There are things I can do much better. Things I want for my life. They aren't material. They are love. Companionship. Family. Peace.
While I spend the next 12 hours of this fast reflecting on the last year; how I can change and grow over the next 12 months to become a better version of me, I want to share one thing I have shared before and one thing I haven't:
First, the greatest moment of the last year that stands out. It has nothing to do with any celebrities I worked with, nor with any personal commercial successes. Over the summer, thanks to my friend Lij Shaw , I had the honor of working with underserved teens in the downtown Nashville Library. On the third floor, they have a little recording studio that is free for the kids to use and they bring in recording industry professionals from the community to mentor them. Nothing could have been more personally rewarding than one particular day. I was working with a 15 year old black girl. Her family lives far below the poverty line and they do the best to fend for themselves, but have very little in the way of resources. Well, it turns out, that girl was an incredibly talented singer and I absolutely let her know! We sat together and wrote a song. We recorded it. By the end, she was in tears. When I asked what was wrong, she responded, and I will never forget these words:
"No one has ever told me I was good at anything".
I relate to her on so many levels. And I am so grateful that I was able to be there for her. This is the very best of what I can do on this earth in my lifetime. To help kids who grew up in very abusive situations and are taught they are worthless, that there is no hope. Even when I still struggle with my own lack of hope, I can provide it to them. And in doing so, that brings great purpose and meaning to my life. I hope to do more of that this coming year.
The other thing I want to mention is very relevant especially as we come to the end of the most divisive, violent, and horrible election cycle this nation has ever experienced. This notion I share appears in many forms in all religious texts. But having traveled the world, and being especially sensitive to Islamaphobia during this election year, I will paraphrase from the #Muslim text, the Holy Quran...
'whoever kills a soul - it is as if he had slain mankind entirely. And whoever saves one - it is as if he had saved mankind entirely.' - Quran 5:32
I often explain to people that NYC is the greatest city in America. Perhaps in the world. It is a place where people of all nations and all faiths came together and became one thing: New Yorkers. There were no divisions besides good or bad and they all lived together and worked their differences out. Yom Kippur drives home this concept of good and bad. While atheists like myself take the karma approach, there is no right or wrong way to arrive at right and wrong, nor good and bad. Just know that those are real destinations. Whatever gets you there gets you there. Some take an Uber, some drive their own car, and still others hop on public transportation. But at the end of the day, we are all the same and must treat each other accordingly.
If we see a woman begging on the side of the road with a sign, that is OUR sister. If we see a man berating a woman in public, that is OUR brother berating OUR mother or friend. If we see an old woman trying desperately to hold onto both her dignity and groceries while getting to her car, that is OUR grandmother. If we see a child with bruises running aimlessly down a street, scared, confused, hungry, alone, that is OUR child. And when we see bombs fall in far away lands that wipe out entire families celebrating a wedding, that is OUR family that has just been murdered. This is my Yom Kippur. I don't have god, but I will try as I always do to not be a dick in the coming year. I will try to take personal ownership of the suffering of my fellow humans. I will without prejudice call those people out who would seek to harm or oppress others.
If you are a Jew and fasting, may you also reflect on these things. If you are NOT a Jew (as most of my friends are not... we make up only 0.22% of the world population) please consider these things anyway. As far as religions go, Judaism is mostly concerned with social justice and personal actions (mitzvoth) to help others and the world around you. I wouldn't tell anyone to fast, though I find it meaningful. But I do wish for all people in the world to consider deeply the things I have touched on here.
Peace and love to you all
Russell Wolff
Wednesday, October 12, 2016
Tuesday, September 27, 2016
Tonight we lost a great Jew. RIP Shimon Peres.
Shimon Peres - A fierce warrior. A beloved peacenik.
There aren't many Jews left on the earth. My people now make up less than one quarter of one percent of the world's population. Maybe that's why we are so loud, why we make our presence felt, why we live boldly with a sense of urgency, why we stand by others and why we work so hard to make a difference in our communities and the greater world around us.
Tonight we lost one of the greatest Jews we had. It's been a tough year for that. Shimon Peres had his flaws, as we all do. But unlike so many people in this world, he dedicated a huge portion of his life to love, peace, prosperity, and understanding. To bringing people together at a time when the world is being torn apart. Along with Bill Clinton and Yasir Arafat (who seems like an angel compared to some of the people we have seen since he passed), he was forging a path towards peace and stability in a region most infamous for land disputes, war, and terror.
There aren't many Jews left and no single man or woman is perfect. But Shimon Peres was one of the best we had. He gave hope to the world. He brought light to the darkness. He brought love to the hate. May his beautiful soul rest in peace.
#RIP #ShimonPeres #Israel
Shimon Peres - Dies at 93
There aren't many Jews left on the earth. My people now make up less than one quarter of one percent of the world's population. Maybe that's why we are so loud, why we make our presence felt, why we live boldly with a sense of urgency, why we stand by others and why we work so hard to make a difference in our communities and the greater world around us.
Tonight we lost one of the greatest Jews we had. It's been a tough year for that. Shimon Peres had his flaws, as we all do. But unlike so many people in this world, he dedicated a huge portion of his life to love, peace, prosperity, and understanding. To bringing people together at a time when the world is being torn apart. Along with Bill Clinton and Yasir Arafat (who seems like an angel compared to some of the people we have seen since he passed), he was forging a path towards peace and stability in a region most infamous for land disputes, war, and terror.
There aren't many Jews left and no single man or woman is perfect. But Shimon Peres was one of the best we had. He gave hope to the world. He brought light to the darkness. He brought love to the hate. May his beautiful soul rest in peace.
#RIP #ShimonPeres #Israel
Shimon Peres - Dies at 93
Monday, September 12, 2016
#15thAnniversary of #9/12: The Golden Age of Blind Patriotism
The 15th anniversary of 9/12
- The Golden Age of Blind Patriotism
A lot of polarizing things happened yesterday. Some involved me, and in the same vain, some involved highly paid football players that have decided to use their fame and visibility to advance a cause we should all be fighting for in America.
Let there be no confusion: The first responders who ran full speed into the burning towers without any regard for their own safety to attempt the impossible [saving the lives of people on the top floors] are heroes. But regardless of the circumstances or scale or loaded emotions going on right at this moment, activists are heroes as well.
I carry much grief from 9/11. Not more than others. Not less than others. I don't compare my grief. But I was close enough to see many of the events of that day and the aftermath unfold with my own eyes, not a TV set.
With that said, I spontaneously did something yesterday quite different than I had done in previous years. My 'protest' of celebrating survival, resilience, and the continuance of life was not expected of me. While it was viewed as genuine, strong, and heartfelt by some, others viewed it as self-serving, insensitive, and disingenuous.
Instead of my normal annual somber reflection, 15 years felt like the right time to shift. I looked at life today. I posted examples of living, loving, and surviving after getting through the 11th, and what that looks like 15 years later. The day after the trauma, the 12th in this case, will always be the bigger story.
While the response was mostly positive, as noted above, some questioned my motives, my compassion, and attacked my character. So today, I ask a series of rhetorical questions:
For those who were offended by my response to 15 years of gratuitous trauma mongering and snuff porn that plays out annually in the media on 9/11, and also to those who support 'blind patriotism', (which is patently racist) the kind that was on full display directly after 9/11 and led to so much war and hate, and who go along with the demonization of activist athletes who have been fighting for a cause we should all be fighting for...
What do you do to commemorate Holocaust Remembrance Day? What do you avoid doing on that day to avoid being disrespectful to the millions of Jews and others who were slaughtered?
What do you do to honor the 1,000,000 plus innocent Muslim men, women, and children slaughtered in cold blood in Iraq and Afghanistan by the United States you blindly pledge allegiance to?
What do you do to commemorate the genocide carried out against America's indigenous population by the Europeans on the very land you own your split-level ranch on? Is Columbus some sort of hero for you?
What do you do when a white police officer takes out his weapon and murders an unarmed black person because of a simple wrong turn or tail light being out? Do you say: 'well if those people would just follow the instructions of the officer, they'd still be alive!' (I hear that a lot from the treadmills and bikes at the Green Hills YMCA)
What do you do when a mentally unstable white supremacist is very close to becoming the president of your country and runs for office on a thinly veiled platform of fear, paranoia, xenophobia, violence, sexism, and hatred against non-whites, Hispanics, Muslims, immigrants, and others? Do you remain silent then? Do you view him as a patriot?
Do you understand the principles and ideals this country was built on? What the words liberty, freedom, and equality actually mean?
There are so many more examples as EVERY day on the American calendar marks a tragedy... 93 dead from guns, Virginia Tech, Columbine, the 1993 WTC bombing, OKC bombing. 3,000 Americans were murdered in one made-for-tv attack, one one single horrifying day, but 385,000 have died from guns since then. Everyone in the world is outraged and traumatized about those deaths except American gun owners.
It is very easy to criticize brave people from the safety of your couch and the warm glow of your iDevices. But the people you are speaking out against are the real heroes.
They are standing up or sitting down, speaking out and remaining silent. They are taking risks without regard for their safety in order to do what is right in a most dangerous time for our nation. What you think or say about them has very little bearing on what they do. It does not deter them. It fuels them. And on some days the 'them' is 'us'.
Blind patriotism is shameful, racist, and disgusting. One of the greatest performing acts of all time made a single statement of apology and compassion for the horrible war crimes our country and president were carrying out. How did America respond? Their records were burned and their careers were done for many years.
So if the actions of terrorists are supposed to change what we do and say for an entire day every single year, haven't we let them win? Where is your patriotism then? Where is your resolve? Where is your strength? Where is your courage? Because America needs it right now more than it ever has. True patriotism, not the fake stuff on tv.
- The Golden Age of Blind Patriotism
A lot of polarizing things happened yesterday. Some involved me, and in the same vain, some involved highly paid football players that have decided to use their fame and visibility to advance a cause we should all be fighting for in America.
Let there be no confusion: The first responders who ran full speed into the burning towers without any regard for their own safety to attempt the impossible [saving the lives of people on the top floors] are heroes. But regardless of the circumstances or scale or loaded emotions going on right at this moment, activists are heroes as well.
I carry much grief from 9/11. Not more than others. Not less than others. I don't compare my grief. But I was close enough to see many of the events of that day and the aftermath unfold with my own eyes, not a TV set.
With that said, I spontaneously did something yesterday quite different than I had done in previous years. My 'protest' of celebrating survival, resilience, and the continuance of life was not expected of me. While it was viewed as genuine, strong, and heartfelt by some, others viewed it as self-serving, insensitive, and disingenuous.
Instead of my normal annual somber reflection, 15 years felt like the right time to shift. I looked at life today. I posted examples of living, loving, and surviving after getting through the 11th, and what that looks like 15 years later. The day after the trauma, the 12th in this case, will always be the bigger story.
While the response was mostly positive, as noted above, some questioned my motives, my compassion, and attacked my character. So today, I ask a series of rhetorical questions:
For those who were offended by my response to 15 years of gratuitous trauma mongering and snuff porn that plays out annually in the media on 9/11, and also to those who support 'blind patriotism', (which is patently racist) the kind that was on full display directly after 9/11 and led to so much war and hate, and who go along with the demonization of activist athletes who have been fighting for a cause we should all be fighting for...
What do you do to commemorate Holocaust Remembrance Day? What do you avoid doing on that day to avoid being disrespectful to the millions of Jews and others who were slaughtered?
What do you do to honor the 1,000,000 plus innocent Muslim men, women, and children slaughtered in cold blood in Iraq and Afghanistan by the United States you blindly pledge allegiance to?
What do you do to commemorate the genocide carried out against America's indigenous population by the Europeans on the very land you own your split-level ranch on? Is Columbus some sort of hero for you?
What do you do when a white police officer takes out his weapon and murders an unarmed black person because of a simple wrong turn or tail light being out? Do you say: 'well if those people would just follow the instructions of the officer, they'd still be alive!' (I hear that a lot from the treadmills and bikes at the Green Hills YMCA)
What do you do when a mentally unstable white supremacist is very close to becoming the president of your country and runs for office on a thinly veiled platform of fear, paranoia, xenophobia, violence, sexism, and hatred against non-whites, Hispanics, Muslims, immigrants, and others? Do you remain silent then? Do you view him as a patriot?
Do you understand the principles and ideals this country was built on? What the words liberty, freedom, and equality actually mean?
There are so many more examples as EVERY day on the American calendar marks a tragedy... 93 dead from guns, Virginia Tech, Columbine, the 1993 WTC bombing, OKC bombing. 3,000 Americans were murdered in one made-for-tv attack, one one single horrifying day, but 385,000 have died from guns since then. Everyone in the world is outraged and traumatized about those deaths except American gun owners.
It is very easy to criticize brave people from the safety of your couch and the warm glow of your iDevices. But the people you are speaking out against are the real heroes.
They are standing up or sitting down, speaking out and remaining silent. They are taking risks without regard for their safety in order to do what is right in a most dangerous time for our nation. What you think or say about them has very little bearing on what they do. It does not deter them. It fuels them. And on some days the 'them' is 'us'.
Blind patriotism is shameful, racist, and disgusting. One of the greatest performing acts of all time made a single statement of apology and compassion for the horrible war crimes our country and president were carrying out. How did America respond? Their records were burned and their careers were done for many years.
So if the actions of terrorists are supposed to change what we do and say for an entire day every single year, haven't we let them win? Where is your patriotism then? Where is your resolve? Where is your strength? Where is your courage? Because America needs it right now more than it ever has. True patriotism, not the fake stuff on tv.
Saturday, September 10, 2016
Suicide Prevention Week
#SuicidePreventionWeek
Sometime shortly after the turn of the last century, in a modest apartment in the Bronx, a family fight broke out. There was high drama, screaming, and no doubt things were thrown and broken. A young girl then watched in horror as her own mother in a desperate attempt to end her pain jumped out the window falling several stories to her death. This played out in front of the whole family. And it was rarely spoken of again. That little girl was my grandmother.
Depression is not a character flaw and suicide is not a weakness. These things are hardwired into our DNA and science has proven that they are passed on like other genetic traits. The grief of depression and trauma is violently forged into our DNA and takes a lifelong struggle to unwrite. For more information on this, read the recent studies on holocaust trauma being passed down to survivors that were born generations later.
#Depression is no joke. I've spoken about my struggles with it many times publicly and privately. I have suffered from a host of depression-related issues since I was a young child. It is one of those very dark and serious conditions that seems to get worse and worse as you get older. The stakes get higher, the internal pressures grow stronger, and the voices get much louder until they rise to the level of a football stadium filled with angry fans.
I am no good. I am worthless. I am a defective piece of shit. My life has no meaning. I am a detriment and burden to all those around me. The world would be a better place without me in it. These are not slogans or phrases I picked up off a depression website or Lifetime movie. No, these are the daily mantras that the darkness of a depressive brain insists on repeating over and over and over again. For decades. Until they are so loud, you can no longer bear them.
You cannot fight depression by lying to it (though that is one major psychological strategy and treatment approach). This is our truth. This is our reality. Is it inescapably home.
In those dark silent moments of the night, we are all alone with our thoughts, each one of us. No matter where they start, the thoughts are guided along a prebuilt track towards the inevitable: what we are not, what we have not, who we are not. That is that a familiar and comfortable place. But that comfort gives way to an addictive danger zone where a gravitational spiral drags us down into an ever-growing black hole. It is in this unenviable place that 'ending it all' seems to be the only logical, sensible, and dare I say merciful choice. Mercy upon oneself, mercy upon those around us who we feel we are a burden to, and mercy on the greater world at large.
I will never know the full effect of a life in the arts on these things as it is the only life I have known. But I watch my friends accept Grammy Awards, Tony Awards, Emmy and Oscar Awards, and I am truly proud of and happy for them. But that's not enough for the depressive mind. It has to compare. I watch other friends save people's lives and again it compares... 'What have YOU done that comes even remotely close to their impact on the world?' It loudly shouts in a mocking tone. Even recently, I found out that someone whom I know was a horrible person who did inexcusable things to me had a child. The depressed mind has to compare, even then.
However the chips fall, the depressed mind feels the same after every split. No matter what the circumstances are, there is always this sense that the other person can bounce back. That she can go on to have a normal and happy life, while you are left with defective, worthless, and broken you.
You wake up alone as you always do. You have to scream at yourself at the top of your lungs that you're worth something and that your life has meaning; that if you were suddenly gone, people would be affected; that there are people out there who count on you who you aren't even aware of. These people count on your existence and you will never know it during your living years.
You see, when you suffer from this type of depression, no amount of medication, solution from science nor religion or other magical thinking can help. Though, dogs help. And of course, that same science you rely on has shown in multiple studies that people who have a faith in a God or a higher power are far less likely to suffer from this darkness.
But when you do suffer from this flavor of depression, you walk the earth with a dark cloud hovering over every achievement and a torrential monsoon drowning your every failure. Your BEST days are a normal person's worst. As performers, we get the benefit of an occasional opiate-level high when we walk out on stage and perform. But the rest of the time, we walk the earth wearing a 500 pound lead suit we can barely maneuver in.
All the slogans in the world don't change the overwhelming sense that suicide (the relief of this darkness and an end to the pain) is the fair and just resolution. It only seems right. It is a relief that we, the depressed, have earned through a lifetime of existing in that heavy armor.
People who have known me for decades know some of the reasons for the darkness. It goes far deeper than garden variety self-hatred. I was taught those things about myself and those lessons connected with the darkness that was already pre-wired and waiting in my brain for the right code words and reinforcement to activate it like a trained self-assassin. It is simply exhausting for anyone to exist in this condition.
To put it more bluntly; being me is exhausting. Being Russell Wolff is a full time exhausting balancing act. There is no break. The life of an artist is a strange one. If I get an idea at three in the morning I don't have the option of ignoring it.
[Tangent alert, followed by bringing it full circle]
This morning, I started out writing some words reflecting on the world we knew before 9/11/2001 as the 15 year anniversary snuck right up on us. I feel that the world changed that day. I know America changed on that day. And while Patriotism sure looked good on paper for a short time, we are now watching the horrifying ripple effects of that change as it destroys our nation 15 years later.
Since that day, we have become a lost and violent people. Armed to the teeth and full of hatred and mistrust for one another. A country that doesn't even deserve the unity that party leaders promise. Have we helped each other? Or have we instead sought to destroy our neighbors and every ideal we claimed to stand for? That is indeed a question for another post…
But, back to the main point... There is a simple equation that applies here: the deeper the depression, coupled with the absence of relationships and children, correlates to a higher likelihood of this dark sense of low worth. This might seem a bit obvious to some of course, but worth repeating for reference. The sense of irrelevancy felt by a depressed person on a regular basis is palpable. The folly of life is seemingly unbearable.
The best thing I've done in my life in this realm started recently. As some of you know, I have been working with underserved, at-risk teens at the Nashville downtown public library. As it turns out, I ended up with the opportunity to work with many kids who in their early teens fantasize about suicide, and with some who attempted it, as I did.
I keep these kids in my mind always. When the image of me helping these kids wants to run away, I chase after it, grab it, drag it back and throw it the fuck back in its seat so it stays in the room where I can always see it. In this role, I have been given a chance to help kids who grew up like me, kids that suffer and who were told their whole lives that they were worth nothing. And so they believe they are worth nothing. Why wouldn't they. The people who told them those terrible things are the people we are all taught to trust: Our parents, our teachers, our friends. I have a chance to do for them what I have never been able to do for myself, and that brings me a certain kind of satisfaction, meaning, and purpose.
To be suicidal is to suffer from a very dark and dangerous sub-section of depression. Suicidal ideation is to depression what hard-core shock pornography is to making love. It is dark, it is violent, it is ever present. Instead of the reality it presents itself as, it is a complete distortion of our soul, our spirit, and our potential as humans. And as far as I can tell, the only way to fight it is with evidence, truth, purpose and acts of generosity and kindness that positively impact other human beings.
There is a reason I am still alive. I don't know if that reason is the work I do at the library, or to help young artists at my recording studio, or writing my book, or telling my story, or speaking to groups of young people that are dealing with these issues. But I can recognize it's worth even when I can't sense my own.
It was recently suggested to me that I consider coming full circle with my book. To go from finishing telling my story into working with someone to make it a musical. It made good sense to me. After all, at age 7, musical theater was the first place I ever felt safe, and found hope, purpose, and meaning. Being on the stage entertaining people, made others smile and feel joy even when my soul didn't understand what those things were. But it brought me a certain kind of deep satisfaction to be able to bring that to others.
I don't want to end my life today. I want to live. I want to create meaningful art that is helpful to other human beings until the day I can no longer breathe or stand up. Every day, I set out to make a positive impact in someone's life. I have a full understanding after nearly dying myself, then after losing so many friends over the years: THIS is all we have. THIS moment, THIS day, THIS very second.
The greatest moment I ever had on stage was recorded, December 4, 1999 near Albany, New York. One year after that, my album 'Roadkill Americana', was held ransom by a 'friend' in New Jersey, who eventually erased the entire album out of spite and greed. As you may know, I recovered the album from some old rough mixes made close to the end of the recording. I managed to record some missing parts, 'mix' what I could, and release it. It was nowhere near what it was supposed to be, but it was released. One year after that, the towers fell and I left New York for Boston. One year after that, I was laying on my presumed deathbed, six weeks in the hospital, with tubes in me to breathe, facing the very real prospect that my life was over, my singing career was done, and I that even if I did manage to live, I might never talk again let alone sing. It took two years and two additional surgeries to feel like a human being again, which I couldn't have gotten through without the love and support of my friends in Boston and New York who know exactly who they are. But on the other side of that, I found a new life helping others.
I know that any of us can die any second for any reason. It is so easy to die for any of us, and it is so logical to commit suicide for any of us who suffer from this darkness. Living is the hardest thing of all. Thriving in the face of 1 million voices telling you you're not good enough. Somehow shutting them all down and walking forward through that angry mob in your mind heckling you at every turn. THAT is the true challenge and struggle. And for those of us struggling with depression, it is all the more challenging.
The title and theme of my book have shifted a bit since I started. As soon as I get close to the end, I can share more information about it. But everything I've spoken about here is related. For those of you who had the patience to read through all this, I thank you.
Keep in mind that right now, you know someone besides me who is suffering under all of this darkness, while they do their best to hide it from you and the rest of the world. You can't save them, but you can encourage them to find something to fight for. Please do.
#StopSuicide
https://afsp.org/
Sometime shortly after the turn of the last century, in a modest apartment in the Bronx, a family fight broke out. There was high drama, screaming, and no doubt things were thrown and broken. A young girl then watched in horror as her own mother in a desperate attempt to end her pain jumped out the window falling several stories to her death. This played out in front of the whole family. And it was rarely spoken of again. That little girl was my grandmother.
Depression is not a character flaw and suicide is not a weakness. These things are hardwired into our DNA and science has proven that they are passed on like other genetic traits. The grief of depression and trauma is violently forged into our DNA and takes a lifelong struggle to unwrite. For more information on this, read the recent studies on holocaust trauma being passed down to survivors that were born generations later.
#Depression is no joke. I've spoken about my struggles with it many times publicly and privately. I have suffered from a host of depression-related issues since I was a young child. It is one of those very dark and serious conditions that seems to get worse and worse as you get older. The stakes get higher, the internal pressures grow stronger, and the voices get much louder until they rise to the level of a football stadium filled with angry fans.
I am no good. I am worthless. I am a defective piece of shit. My life has no meaning. I am a detriment and burden to all those around me. The world would be a better place without me in it. These are not slogans or phrases I picked up off a depression website or Lifetime movie. No, these are the daily mantras that the darkness of a depressive brain insists on repeating over and over and over again. For decades. Until they are so loud, you can no longer bear them.
You cannot fight depression by lying to it (though that is one major psychological strategy and treatment approach). This is our truth. This is our reality. Is it inescapably home.
In those dark silent moments of the night, we are all alone with our thoughts, each one of us. No matter where they start, the thoughts are guided along a prebuilt track towards the inevitable: what we are not, what we have not, who we are not. That is that a familiar and comfortable place. But that comfort gives way to an addictive danger zone where a gravitational spiral drags us down into an ever-growing black hole. It is in this unenviable place that 'ending it all' seems to be the only logical, sensible, and dare I say merciful choice. Mercy upon oneself, mercy upon those around us who we feel we are a burden to, and mercy on the greater world at large.
I will never know the full effect of a life in the arts on these things as it is the only life I have known. But I watch my friends accept Grammy Awards, Tony Awards, Emmy and Oscar Awards, and I am truly proud of and happy for them. But that's not enough for the depressive mind. It has to compare. I watch other friends save people's lives and again it compares... 'What have YOU done that comes even remotely close to their impact on the world?' It loudly shouts in a mocking tone. Even recently, I found out that someone whom I know was a horrible person who did inexcusable things to me had a child. The depressed mind has to compare, even then.
However the chips fall, the depressed mind feels the same after every split. No matter what the circumstances are, there is always this sense that the other person can bounce back. That she can go on to have a normal and happy life, while you are left with defective, worthless, and broken you.
You wake up alone as you always do. You have to scream at yourself at the top of your lungs that you're worth something and that your life has meaning; that if you were suddenly gone, people would be affected; that there are people out there who count on you who you aren't even aware of. These people count on your existence and you will never know it during your living years.
You see, when you suffer from this type of depression, no amount of medication, solution from science nor religion or other magical thinking can help. Though, dogs help. And of course, that same science you rely on has shown in multiple studies that people who have a faith in a God or a higher power are far less likely to suffer from this darkness.
But when you do suffer from this flavor of depression, you walk the earth with a dark cloud hovering over every achievement and a torrential monsoon drowning your every failure. Your BEST days are a normal person's worst. As performers, we get the benefit of an occasional opiate-level high when we walk out on stage and perform. But the rest of the time, we walk the earth wearing a 500 pound lead suit we can barely maneuver in.
All the slogans in the world don't change the overwhelming sense that suicide (the relief of this darkness and an end to the pain) is the fair and just resolution. It only seems right. It is a relief that we, the depressed, have earned through a lifetime of existing in that heavy armor.
People who have known me for decades know some of the reasons for the darkness. It goes far deeper than garden variety self-hatred. I was taught those things about myself and those lessons connected with the darkness that was already pre-wired and waiting in my brain for the right code words and reinforcement to activate it like a trained self-assassin. It is simply exhausting for anyone to exist in this condition.
To put it more bluntly; being me is exhausting. Being Russell Wolff is a full time exhausting balancing act. There is no break. The life of an artist is a strange one. If I get an idea at three in the morning I don't have the option of ignoring it.
[Tangent alert, followed by bringing it full circle]
This morning, I started out writing some words reflecting on the world we knew before 9/11/2001 as the 15 year anniversary snuck right up on us. I feel that the world changed that day. I know America changed on that day. And while Patriotism sure looked good on paper for a short time, we are now watching the horrifying ripple effects of that change as it destroys our nation 15 years later.
Since that day, we have become a lost and violent people. Armed to the teeth and full of hatred and mistrust for one another. A country that doesn't even deserve the unity that party leaders promise. Have we helped each other? Or have we instead sought to destroy our neighbors and every ideal we claimed to stand for? That is indeed a question for another post…
But, back to the main point... There is a simple equation that applies here: the deeper the depression, coupled with the absence of relationships and children, correlates to a higher likelihood of this dark sense of low worth. This might seem a bit obvious to some of course, but worth repeating for reference. The sense of irrelevancy felt by a depressed person on a regular basis is palpable. The folly of life is seemingly unbearable.
The best thing I've done in my life in this realm started recently. As some of you know, I have been working with underserved, at-risk teens at the Nashville downtown public library. As it turns out, I ended up with the opportunity to work with many kids who in their early teens fantasize about suicide, and with some who attempted it, as I did.
I keep these kids in my mind always. When the image of me helping these kids wants to run away, I chase after it, grab it, drag it back and throw it the fuck back in its seat so it stays in the room where I can always see it. In this role, I have been given a chance to help kids who grew up like me, kids that suffer and who were told their whole lives that they were worth nothing. And so they believe they are worth nothing. Why wouldn't they. The people who told them those terrible things are the people we are all taught to trust: Our parents, our teachers, our friends. I have a chance to do for them what I have never been able to do for myself, and that brings me a certain kind of satisfaction, meaning, and purpose.
To be suicidal is to suffer from a very dark and dangerous sub-section of depression. Suicidal ideation is to depression what hard-core shock pornography is to making love. It is dark, it is violent, it is ever present. Instead of the reality it presents itself as, it is a complete distortion of our soul, our spirit, and our potential as humans. And as far as I can tell, the only way to fight it is with evidence, truth, purpose and acts of generosity and kindness that positively impact other human beings.
There is a reason I am still alive. I don't know if that reason is the work I do at the library, or to help young artists at my recording studio, or writing my book, or telling my story, or speaking to groups of young people that are dealing with these issues. But I can recognize it's worth even when I can't sense my own.
It was recently suggested to me that I consider coming full circle with my book. To go from finishing telling my story into working with someone to make it a musical. It made good sense to me. After all, at age 7, musical theater was the first place I ever felt safe, and found hope, purpose, and meaning. Being on the stage entertaining people, made others smile and feel joy even when my soul didn't understand what those things were. But it brought me a certain kind of deep satisfaction to be able to bring that to others.
I don't want to end my life today. I want to live. I want to create meaningful art that is helpful to other human beings until the day I can no longer breathe or stand up. Every day, I set out to make a positive impact in someone's life. I have a full understanding after nearly dying myself, then after losing so many friends over the years: THIS is all we have. THIS moment, THIS day, THIS very second.
The greatest moment I ever had on stage was recorded, December 4, 1999 near Albany, New York. One year after that, my album 'Roadkill Americana', was held ransom by a 'friend' in New Jersey, who eventually erased the entire album out of spite and greed. As you may know, I recovered the album from some old rough mixes made close to the end of the recording. I managed to record some missing parts, 'mix' what I could, and release it. It was nowhere near what it was supposed to be, but it was released. One year after that, the towers fell and I left New York for Boston. One year after that, I was laying on my presumed deathbed, six weeks in the hospital, with tubes in me to breathe, facing the very real prospect that my life was over, my singing career was done, and I that even if I did manage to live, I might never talk again let alone sing. It took two years and two additional surgeries to feel like a human being again, which I couldn't have gotten through without the love and support of my friends in Boston and New York who know exactly who they are. But on the other side of that, I found a new life helping others.
I know that any of us can die any second for any reason. It is so easy to die for any of us, and it is so logical to commit suicide for any of us who suffer from this darkness. Living is the hardest thing of all. Thriving in the face of 1 million voices telling you you're not good enough. Somehow shutting them all down and walking forward through that angry mob in your mind heckling you at every turn. THAT is the true challenge and struggle. And for those of us struggling with depression, it is all the more challenging.
The title and theme of my book have shifted a bit since I started. As soon as I get close to the end, I can share more information about it. But everything I've spoken about here is related. For those of you who had the patience to read through all this, I thank you.
Keep in mind that right now, you know someone besides me who is suffering under all of this darkness, while they do their best to hide it from you and the rest of the world. You can't save them, but you can encourage them to find something to fight for. Please do.
#StopSuicide
https://afsp.org/
Friday, July 8, 2016
DALLAS: My most controversial post yet.
I will keep this short and sweet. Here are my thoughts on this latest tragedy. They are threefold and they will piss you off.
1. No one should be surprised by ANY death by gun in America. DISARM AMERICA NOW including LAW ENFORCEMENT!!!
2. No one should be surprised to see white police officers murdered by armed blacks. CAN YOU HONESTLY BLAME THEM??? Put the scenario in a battlefield, and they are just taking out their enemy.
3. The is the same concept as ISIS. No one should be surprised at the terrorism of ISIS against western targets. After all, our military went over to their countries and slaughtered over 1,000,000 innocent Arab men, women, and children.
Don't like the results? CHANGE THE FUCKING GAME!!!
DALLAS OFFICERS GUNNED DOWN AT BLACK LIVES MATTER PROTEST
1. No one should be surprised by ANY death by gun in America. DISARM AMERICA NOW including LAW ENFORCEMENT!!!
2. No one should be surprised to see white police officers murdered by armed blacks. CAN YOU HONESTLY BLAME THEM??? Put the scenario in a battlefield, and they are just taking out their enemy.
3. The is the same concept as ISIS. No one should be surprised at the terrorism of ISIS against western targets. After all, our military went over to their countries and slaughtered over 1,000,000 innocent Arab men, women, and children.
Don't like the results? CHANGE THE FUCKING GAME!!!
DALLAS OFFICERS GUNNED DOWN AT BLACK LIVES MATTER PROTEST
Tuesday, June 28, 2016
Turkey
I have Turkish friends. I have been in that airport before. I remember being amazed at all the different people traveling through the place. It was a giant bridge sitting between Europe and the Middle East, I thought... and I have the privilege to walk across it. That was then. This is now.
The world is so very dark now. For all of us.
All we can do is live. Let the forces of evil do what they will. Let the armies of the world try to destroy them. And in our own lives, in our own quiet moments, hold those we love. Hold them tightly. And pretend.
The best any of us can hope for anymore is to pretend the world is not as awful as it appears to be. Pretend that people in our own country can get along with each other. Pretend that we have a bright future. Get lost in a movie, an album, or a hike in the forest.
I am so grateful tonight for friends (old and new) who I was fortunate enough to spend time with over the past week. Larry and I don't get to hang out as often as we should, but he is a shining light who emits rays of joy and love into the world as far as the eye can see. If you are in his orbit, you cannot help but feel it and smile. John Kurzweg and I only recently met, but the two of these characters just brought so much joy into my world, both on the stage and off. I am truly grateful. Deeply moved.
My heart is with those in Turkey, those who dared to walk in the most pedestrian of places, an airport; that airport where I heard so many languages I couldn't identify, and where I ate a delicious meal I couldn't pronounce while waiting on my next flight.
Sunday, June 12, 2016
How to end gun violence in America, but first: FUCK YOU AMERICA!
FUCK YOU AMERICA. FUCK YOU NRA. FUCK YOU TX GOV. DAN PATRICK. FUCK YOU ORLANDO.
Another morning. Another tragic shooting. And this time it gets the label for HIGHEST BODYCOUNT OF ANY MASS SHOOTING IN AMERICAN HISTORY! Mazel tov America! You have so much to be proud of. This is in fact one of the few areas the USA is ALWAYS number 1 at. Never the important ones like healthcare, education, quality of life, or life expectancy. But I digress.
Today's news will bring out all sorts of responses that change absolutely nothing: this can range from emojis, to prayers, to shock, to outrage, to tears. From the top, we can expect finger pointing (always in the wrong direction): towards Muslims (the shooter, even though the vast majority of shootings in America are by armed white conservative males self-identifying as christian), towards gays (for bringing on god's wrath), towards gun control (laughably). But at the end of the day, there are in fact things that will reduce and prevent gun violence in America: (wrote some of this after yesterday's post but hadn't planned on posting it for a while... until this morning).
Another morning. Another tragic shooting. And this time it gets the label for HIGHEST BODYCOUNT OF ANY MASS SHOOTING IN AMERICAN HISTORY! Mazel tov America! You have so much to be proud of. This is in fact one of the few areas the USA is ALWAYS number 1 at. Never the important ones like healthcare, education, quality of life, or life expectancy. But I digress.
Today's news will bring out all sorts of responses that change absolutely nothing: this can range from emojis, to prayers, to shock, to outrage, to tears. From the top, we can expect finger pointing (always in the wrong direction): towards Muslims (the shooter, even though the vast majority of shootings in America are by armed white conservative males self-identifying as christian), towards gays (for bringing on god's wrath), towards gun control (laughably). But at the end of the day, there are in fact things that will reduce and prevent gun violence in America: (wrote some of this after yesterday's post but hadn't planned on posting it for a while... until this morning).
I get tired of people saying there's nothing we can do to combat gun violence in the United States of America. While I would support an all-out ban like the one that exists in Australia and the UK, short of a ban, here are 10 commonsense changes to our CURRENT laws that could save TENS OF THOUSANDS of lives every single year.
1. Annual licensing and testing to get and keep those licenses. Just like registering a car, this would be mandatory once a year. If you don't have a license and you are found to have a gun, you go to prison. If you are convicted of a violent crime during the year and do not turn in your gun, you go to prison.
2. Mandatory gun buyback for anyone that does not require a license. Give some incentive to those people willingly following the law.
3. The licenses and laws regarding firearms will be identical for all 50 states. This change will be on the FEDERAL level. They cannot change from state to state, and all law enforcement agencies will work together under the same legal guidelines
4. Limit on bullets. If gun ranges want to have more, that is fine. But from now on, gun ranges are regulated by state government like those state liquor stores. Not owned by private citizens/business owners. And also gun/ammunition stores.
5. Along with the annual skills testing, safety test, and criminal background check there will be a psychological profiling and temperament tests. If someone does not want to take this test, they don't get a license nor access to guns. If they are found to have a gun in violation of this policy, they go to prison.
6. Limit on the number of weapons allowed. No one may build an arsenal.
7. Gun owners are forever responsible for any crimes committed with their weapon, even if they are lost or stolen. Especially in cases where the loss is not reported.
8. Purchasing guns for someone else or lending a gun to someone else is a crime punishable by license revocation and prison time.
9. Anyone convicted of any type of violent crime loses guns forever. Whether the crime is actually committed or terroristic threats are made, that person forfeits their right to own a weapon for the rest of their life as a citizen of the United States.
10. Anyone using their weapons to intimidate others people in public or private, loses their license and has to give up their guns. If they do not, they're in violation of federal law and will face prosecution and jail time.
11. Metal detectors and wands in all public places that we can put them. Especially in our hospitals, schools, colleges, malls, movie theaters, nightclubs, restaurants. Build them into door frames. We have the technology. This is no different than when we go to an airport. People will get used to it. And as a result, our children and frankly all of our citizens since will be safer
12. A national database of ALL GUNS and ALL GUN OWNERS must be maintained at all times. This must be cross checked in real time with crime databases of local law enforcement all the way up to the FBI, CIA, and NSA. To get on the database, no one is 'grandfathered'. Anyone already owning a gun MUST register. If they are found not to register with their guns, they lose the right to have them, must surrender them, or face possible prison time.
Alternately: 13. Implement gun technology whereby guns can only be fired with fingerprint of owner. 14. Ban them altogether. It works. Do the research and travel the world. It works.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)