MR. BRAY

Studios, LLC

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       MR BRAY

A boutique design & animation shop that dissolves the line between studio and agency.

The Countdown


The following is a dark poem I wrote while I was feeling so exceptionally low and I had resolved to end my life on a particular date. While I've since received help I understand this might be something troubling to read. However it's important for my mental health and my personal integrity to express this experience. It's when we bottle up our suffering I believe we are in the greatest danger. 

Also believe me from a person that has been on the very edge there is always hope. I wrote in a previous post titled the “Suicidal Preacher” we’re fighting our own battles. Yet, if you're suffering it’s unnatural to reach out. It feels foreign and lets be frank when living is pain you don't want help. Now it takes wisdom to know who to talk to and it takes courage to care. If you know of a friend or loved one or if you recognize a numbness for life in someone this is a huge sign they’re suffering. People hardly take their lives over a single issue and there’s few if at all any quick solutions for this. Feeling like you want to end your life can feel like deep tracks etched in the snow. It will take you sometime so be out of the woods or off the dark tracks. You don’t fall into deep suicidal depression overnight and you most likely won’t crawl out any faster. But there is hope! The hope is sometimes faint, sometimes a whisper or a dream. Dreaming is very important to depressed people, for dreams offer an escape and when you remove these dreams if there’s no reality worth living and all they’re forced to deal with is a painful reality they’ll( and i’m speaking of myself here) slip into twice the runt.

This is why faith isn’t enough. Faith in God can help but we need to be surrounded by saints that manifest this loving God. And I speak from experience not all saints share your particular metaphysical point of view. I’ve been saved so many times this past year - by distance loved ones, by long lost family members, by even dear friends, one amazing friend particular doesn’t even believe in God. But he showed he loved me and valued my life and taught me to dream again(I’m talking about you Cody, thanks buddy)! And many more, my Mom (though not biologically my mom) you’ve helped me see grace and hope when I felt there was none. To my brother and sister of choice (Ken & Christy) you showed me family in the way my heart has always craved. To my little brother Vincent you showed me how to laugh. To my brother Ian you inspired and showed me gifts I forgot I had. To my sister Jaime you offered me your wisdom and your loving daughters helped me forget my pain. To my sister Micah I owe you so much! You gave me a roof over my head and brought me back from death by forcing me to eat. You’re my rock! To my wonderful therapist thank you! To dear friend, and kindred spirit Michael thank you! To my long time friend Mike for being my road trip buddy and letting me feel safe enough to open up my tearful broken heart in the car ride to L.A, thank you! To my friend Alexi at Netflix that encouraged me to hang on and listened to my stories, thank you! To my amazing friend David Nilsson from Sweden, being the best brother I could have afar, love you bro! To by friend Smeltz for being a constant encouragement, to Big Dave the captain of encouragement thank you! To my awesome co-host of my podcast and an incredible friend Kevin, you grabbed me by the heart and pulled me out of the mud! There’s infinitely more loving people I want to recall and by no means is this the end of the list of saints that have been pulling me through the darkest. They've made me feel loved and valued. So when I share this sad poem understand this might be how you feel presently, like there’s no reason to go on. But please know that’s not true. So while this poem speaks my emotional truth at the time it is and was a complete lie. If you’re reading this know you are worthy of being loved!


Written: Tuesday, August 6th 2019


Poem by: Jesse Bray


The Countdown 


This haunted number in decension

As it ticks

Tocks

And lessens in numeration 

I count the sadness 

Of my life

And this total decrease

I decide

That when I'll end

End my time

From all I know

Or all this living suffering

I'll say goodbye 

With a bye

I'll leave the breath from my lungs 

To the other ones

No one

Cares?

Maybe they do?

But none of their caring

Can replace the empty space left from you