Wow - the world is hurting pretty bad right now. Where to begin? I can't solve it, I know. I can't fix it all. I wish I could, but I'm just one guy. There's not enough of me to go around, and even if there was, my answers don't work for every situation or for everyone. What I can talk about is when the world gets Topsy-Turvey.
In light of the unfortunate early exits of Anthony Bourdain and Kate Spade last week, I've seen a lot of social media posts talking about "getting yourself help" and, of course, those criticizing this philosophy because it doesn't do any good, or that it sounds like a simple cliche, akin to "suck it up, buttercup," or "just pull yourself together." The difficulty here is: they are both equally right and equally wrong.
When you are in that place, nothing is right. It's strange, it's uncomfortable, and it's really, really, REALLY sneaky. There's no telling when you're going to find yourself looking into the abyss, and being faced with that inky darkness, contend with what you'll find there. Most of us are lucky enough to never encounter it. We run away from it - sometimes to family, friends, religion, a house, a dog, a bike, a jog, a career - we have limitless options of places and directions we can run to and avoid looking into that place. We have the freedom to choose, most of the time. And again, most of us will never have to make that choice consciously- we just do it.
That's not true for everyone. Some people feel that dark place watching them, looking over their shoulder, hiding just out of sight in the corners of their vision, so that when they turn to look - poof - it's gone again...but for that feeling. Some people can't escape that. Telling them to "suck it up" or whatever pithy saying we've got in our collective arsenal doesn't help, because it's already too late. A little known secret: once you look into that abyss and see the demon that lives there, it looks back at you, too.
How do you come back from that place? That's where the hard work begins. Coming back is when those pithy-sounding phrases help, but they only help a little, and only when the work has already begun. They serve as a constant reminder that it's work and as long as you're making progress each day, you're allowed a few little backslides (and I do mean "little"). But it's more than just proving you're a man (or a woman, if the case may be). It's about knowing you are worth more, and choosing - purposefully - to accept that worth, ESPECIALLY when you don't feel like it.
That's where the topsy-turvey part comes in. What's right seems wrong, and what's wrong feels right. It's not true, of course. But that's part of the temptation, the sickness - call it what you will. It's seductive. It lies. Most of all - it has a brutal weapon - it pretends to couch itself in, of all things, logic. The chief and strongest argument: "It's easier, and just makes sense, to be done with it all, to throw it out, to leave it behind, and end the suffering and useless torment."
What it doesn't tell you: it doesn't stop the pain. Oh, you won't feel it anymore, but that doesn't mean there isn't pain. It just means that you won't be there to feel it. It doesn't tell you that it will cause heartbreak, sadness, misunderstanding, the grief that comes from not knowing. It doesn't tell you there's a hole left, a perfectly you-shaped hole that nothing else can ever fill.
Some people will say it's cowardly. I tell you: those who are in that place have been suffering for a while, and when it comes down to having to make that choice, finally, they are there because they have been worn down over time, and the demon tests to see how much resolve they have left. They aren't weak, they aren't cowards - they have simply been fighting a battle that most of us will never know about. Maybe they are winning that battle. Maybe not.
So, why this? Why write about this? Why do I think that what I'm saying is important enough to talk about it? I have been there. The slope is slippery. It's steep. It's sneaky. And the demon that lives in that abyss is nasty and ugly, and tells lies. A lot of them. How did I get out? It was a lot of work, and another secret: that work is never going to be done. But I choose to do it. Why? Because there are people out there who need me, who want me, who love me, who care. So why write about this? Because I'm asking you to be someone else's reason to choose to do the work.
You can't do it for them. But you can be the reason they choose to keep fighting. When they don't have any strength, give them yours. I am reminded of song lyrics, oddly:
Lean on me,
when you're not strong,
I'll be your friend,
I'll help you carry on,
for it won't be long,
'till I'm gonna need
somebody to lean on
We need each other in this life. It's the only way we're going to get through it. Be someone's someone. Please.
Thanks for reading,
Me
