It is impossible to find two individuals on earth that share the same exact story. The closest you can come is finding two people with similar stories. Everyone is the lead character in their own life and every story is unique. People go through life not knowing what their future holds and there is an excitement created by this unawareness. It also is this same unawareness that can lead people to taking their own lives because they are afraid of what the future has to bring; a lot or nothing. I’ve found myself in this strange junction. Here I am, a survivor of various suicidal attempts and I am here to tell my own story. It was in Enugu, Nigeria on January 18th 1988 that I was born and a terrible thing happened that day, I lived. Things weren’t progressing too much in Nigeria and so at the age of 13 my parents shipped to the United States to get my own shot at the forever cliché American Dream. I’m still chasing this damn thing and I don’t even know what it is.Upon my immigration, I lived in South Orange, NJ for a couple of years and then I relocated to Houston, Texas at the age of 15. It is in Houston that I graduated High School, it is in Houston that I got my drivers license, it is in Houston that I got in my first long term relationship and it is also in Houston that I got in an accident that will later lead to the lost of the functions of my right hand. Life started to take a turn after my accident. What initially started off as a simple sport injury (broken finger) became complicated. As off today I’ve had six surgeries done to my right hand. I developed severe arthritis on every joint on my right hand and wrist and now I struggle to do anything with my dominant hand.I wasn’t a big fan of the “feel good factor†but after my accident I got introduced to Vicodine. I developed a deep relationship with this reality twister. When I felt like I had nowhere to go, nowhere to run and no one to turn to the only thing that was there for me was the painkillers. It made everything seem okay. I felt like my body was attacking me and so I revenged on myself but the downside with any drug addiction is the feeling of the drugs wearing off after a while, that’s when you fond out that your escape was temporary and reality is setting in again. Physical pain brings emotional pain, emotional pain leads to depression and when it seems that you can’t get out of your current predicament, suicide starts to make a lot of sense.I’m happy to say that during my turmoil there is one thing that got me through and that crying my heart out through lyrics. People talk about putting their soul into your music and I know about it. It is my form of therapy. If it wasn’t for the relief I get after making a song I will be dead now, plain and simple. This is what I live for. I believe that the universe finds a way to lead everyone to doing what it is that you’re meant to do. Entertainment is my calling. For years I’ve bee looking at the mirror and not recognizing myself but my voice is still recognizable. Some people live their lives and some people just exist. I’ve been existing for a while and now I think it’s time to start living again through my music. My name is Irregular Mek and I’m here to share my story.
Irregular Mek - Awkward from Irregular Mek on Vimeo .
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