"I have this friend. More like a sister, actually. It's scary… we could finish each other's sentences most days. We have the same sense of humor. We have the very same strengths. We have identical weak spots. We were separated at birth, I believe. She even introduced me to my husband, because, well…she "just knew." We both have this very strong and stubborn misconception (okay, illusion) about how self-sufficient we are. We like to carry people. We hate to be carried. We like to rescue. We hate to cry publicly. We both genuinely feel privileged to listen to a friend pour out the pain of their lives, but would rather privately journal about our own. She is one of those very rare people in life that I believe I could not see for ten years, but the second we sat down over coffee, our hearts would somehow reveal a thousand things before we ever opened our mouths.
So it should not have surprised me that we both hit rock bottom around the same time… for very different reasons. Depression can be a "look out below" kind of crashing down of one's spirit, or it can fill you up gradually, like a faucet that somebody left dripping. Both of us woke up drowning one day. I'm still trying to figure it all out. I think we would call ourselves fairly strong people…so this sudden admission of total, suffocating weakness was, in itself, reason for hysterics (If you don't know a Type A, control freak, you should really consider sponsoring one or at least sending some prayers our way). I wrote this song for her…for both of us. Depression (whether it is short lived, or relentless over a long time) can make you believe that you have been given a life sentence of slavery; tethered to the ground by the strongest of shackles, when everybody else seems to growing beautiful, weightless wings. This song came out of a time when both of us were trying to say to God, "No more chains. Please. Not even one more day of this. I should let you set me free…" He wants to. He's always trying to." – Nichole