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From Rock Bottom to Healing: Tedashii’s Journey Out of Loneliness

From Rock Bottom to Healing: Tedashii’s Journey Out of Loneliness

Loneliness has a way of sneaking up on you. It’s not always tied to the obvious moments, like when you’re sitting alone on a Friday night scrolling through everyone else’s highlight reels on Instagram. Sometimes, it comes when you’re surrounded by people but still feel unseen. Sometimes, it comes in the quiet aftermath of something life-altering, when the world keeps spinning and you’re left wondering if anyone noticed you stopped.

For Tedashii, the award-winning Christian hip-hop artist, loneliness didn’t just creep in. It crashed in. It arrived uninvited after a freak accident on tour left him physically wrecked and emotionally spiraling. What started as a bad fall backstage turned into a severe concussion, weeks of isolation, and a battle against the darkness of his own mind. It’s the kind of story that many men, particularly young men, can relate to—even if they’ve never set foot on a stage.

“It’s one thing to feel alone when you’re dealing with loneliness,” Tedashii says. “It’s another thing to be alone when you’re dealing with hardship, because the loneliness seems compounded. It seems like it’s intentional.”

The accident happened during the finale of the Unashamed Tour in 2022. While navigating the dark backstage, Tedashii tripped over some wires, fell and slammed his head into a metal pole holding up a massive screen. The impact was brutal. Before his hands even hit the ground, his head struck the pole, leaving him with gashes that required over 20 stitches and a concussion so severe it kept him off his feet for months.

The physical toll was immediate but the emotional fallout hit harder. Tedashii found himself stuck in his basement for 14 weeks, unable to drive, go outside or do much of anything. Bright lights, loud noises, even the simple act of climbing stairs—everything became too much. And as the days turned into weeks, the silence grew deafening.

“When you go through hardship, you kind of learn the world keeps going,” he says. “Nobody’s waiting for you. They keep moving. And through all of that, I had these ups and downs emotionally, mentally, and with my mental health.”

For weeks, Tedashii sat alone, replaying the same questions in his mind: Why isn’t anyone calling? Why isn’t anyone stopping by? Is this just how life is going to be now? He admits the isolation brought him to the edge, where suicidal thoughts compounded the grief and anxiety already weighing on him.

“I had this choice to make in this really hard moment: to either choose to live or just give up and die,” he says. “And I don’t mean that figuratively. I mean literally.”

Tedashii chose life, but that decision didn’t magically erase the pain. Instead, it set him on a slow, deliberate journey to rediscovering himself—and his community. And along the way, he learned that the cure for loneliness doesn’t come from waiting for others to reach out. It comes from choosing to step out.

Breaking the Isolation Trap

One of Tedashii’s most profound realizations came from an unexpected place: his time visiting his father’s homeland in Samoa.

“The island was beautiful,” he recalls. “But after a couple of days, I realized an island is only paradise if you can leave it. If you can’t leave, it’s just a trap.”

That metaphor became a mirror for his isolation. The solitude that initially felt like a refuge quickly became suffocating. To escape, he had to step off his island, both physically and emotionally. The first thing he did was simple yet terrifying: he left his house.

“The first thing I did, honestly, I left my house when I could, and I went and hung out with strangers,” he says. “I remember one time I went to a wing place, sat down, and just started talking to a dude at the bar. Another time, I went to an area where people struggling with houselessness were and just started talking to them.”

The conversations weren’t life-changing in and of themselves, but they were a lifeline. By engaging with strangers, Tedashii took the focus off himself and began to see the world again. It wasn’t about finding solutions or making friends—it was about rediscovering connection.

“It did two things for me,” he says. “One, it made me realize I’m not on the island anymore because I’m actually engaging the world. And two, it helped me take the focus off of me and see other people’s worlds as well.”

Owning the Pain

Another critical step for Tedashii was acknowledging his pain instead of downplaying it. Growing up in Texas, he was taught to “suck it up,” a mindset that many men are familiar with. Vulnerability was seen as weakness, and hardship was something to endure in silence. But during his recovery, that approach wasn’t cutting it.

“I had to stop downplaying what I was going through,” he says. “It took medical professionals to tell me, ‘Hey, man, this is serious. You had a severe concussion. This isn’t something to brush off.’”

By acknowledging the severity of his struggles, Tedashii gave himself permission to feel the weight of them without shame. He began to verbalize his worth, both to himself and to others, drawing strength from Psalm 8:5: “God made mankind a little lower than the angels and crowned him with honor and glory.”

“That became a banner for me,” he says. “That’s how God sees me. Why would I ever see myself as less than that?”

Tedashii also discovered the importance of celebrating small victories and creating tangible reminders of the good days. He calls these “flags of remembrance.” They’re simple but meaningful—like a scoop of dirt from his favorite prayer spot or a cheat meal to commemorate a milestone.

“I try to make sure these reminders are there for my brain to go back to,” he says. “On a day that feels super lonely, I can look at them and remember there are good days, too. Just hold on.”

These moments of celebration help counter the weight of loneliness by grounding him in gratitude. They remind him that the bad days don’t erase the good ones—and that progress, however small, is still progress.

The Power of Community

Eventually, Tedashii began to reconnect with his inner circle, but he didn’t rush the process. Instead, he eased back into relationships by being intentional about how he engaged. He realized that his time with strangers had given him the clarity and confidence to show up authentically with the people who mattered most.

“When I started re-engaging my community, I didn’t feel like I had to explain myself,” he says. “I’d already had the practice of being myself with strangers. It made it easier to be myself with friends.”

For Tedashii, overcoming loneliness wasn’t about waiting for someone to rescue him. It was about taking small, deliberate steps toward connection—starting with himself. He had to acknowledge his pain, speak his worth, and choose to show up, even when it felt easier to stay isolated.

Choosing Life

At the core of Tedashii’s journey is the belief that loneliness doesn’t have to define you. It’s a feeling, not a permanent state. And while the road out of it isn’t easy, it’s worth it.

“There’s been such a misnomer about what we feel because we’re afraid it’ll harm our faith,” he says. “But I don’t believe the God who sees all and knows all is shook by the fact that I feel lonely today. I think that’s when He shows up as a comforter, when I’m honest enough to say I need comfort.”

Tedashii’s story isn’t just about overcoming loneliness. It’s about choosing life in all its messy, painful, beautiful complexity. And for anyone feeling stuck on their own island, his advice is simple: Take the first step. The cure for loneliness starts with a choice—to engage, to connect and to believe that better days are ahead.

© 2023 RELEVANT Media Group, Inc. All Rights Reserved.

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