I'd like to think that as we age and mature even our closest friends could forgive our previous mistakes and forget the stupid things we've done in the past. Unfortunately, this seems not always to be the case. Some mistakes seem to be so big that we can never escape them. Obviously, mistakes resulting in criminal behavior tend to never be forgiven, or at least forgotten. However, what about the smaller ones?
I'm sure we've all forgotten someone's birthday or anniversary in the past. Did that friend hold it over your head every year since then? What about the time you weren't paying attention, ran a red light, and wrecked your best friend’s car? For obvious reason they didn't trust you to drive them around for a long time but, how long did that last? Eventually you rebuilt their trust and, though they still remember the trip to the hospital that followed the crash they managed to understand that it was just one mistake; it doesn't mean that every time you get behind the wheel you will cause another accident.
So why is it that when our mistakes involve depressed, morbid, and suicidal thoughts we can never fully live them down? Why is it that when I have a bad day or stretch of them, people in my life assume I am headed down the road of being suicidal again? Not everyone jumps on this bandwagon immediately but, given enough time or a clear enough view into the thoughts running through my head they all wind up there eventually. I appreciate their concern; it's nice to know they care enough to say something to me about it but, the truth is that I have not been suicidal in years. Not every bad day is a precursor to a suicide, not even for those that have been down that road in their past.
I'm sure that Jack wondered about my mental state when I contacted him, seemingly out of the blue, last fall. He was one of those friends who helped me through the suicidal years and I don't doubt that he was concerned about why I had contacted him. Since we hadn't had any contact in over 6 years I can see why he may have wondered about my mental state and I don’t hold it against him if he did. He quickly learned that I had not contacted him out of depression or a need for him to talk me off the ledge again but, rather to say ‘thank you’ and see if it was possible to be friends after all those years. I simply missed having him as a part of my life and wanted to find a way for him to fit into my current list of friends.
Last fall, when I was highly stressed out and retreating into my own little world, Jen noticed the change and was concerned by it. She asked repeatedly if I was okay and generally got a defensive "YES, why?" answer. In truth, I was not okay and she knew it. She also knew me well enough that she saw obvious signs of stress and depression taking their toll and went out of her way to be patient with me. She hoped I would come around in time and eventually tell her what was going on. She was right. I know she was concerned for my mental health and probably on the verge of calling in a friend or two at least once. She also knew that I was dealing with it in my own way and, that as long as I kept talking I was okay.
Recently I have been stressing out about school again and dealing with that stress in the same way I generally do; I write. Last fall I wrote a novel, one that had suicide as a part of the story line but that turned into more of a story about unconditional friendship in the end. Now, rather than writing a book or working on the re-write for the one written last fall, I have been writing e-mails and blog entries to express my brain spirals. Apparently, some of the blog entries have unnerved people close to me and brought back their fears for my mental state. I have explained that I am not suicidal, just having a bad day every now and then. I'm not certain they believe me.
I have always written dark and cryptic things when I use writing as a means to express my thoughts and feelings on bad days. In the past, I have not shared them with the world but instead written them in journals or destroyed them all together. I believe this was a mistake and that not only should I have kept all of them, but that they should have been shared as well. Part of dealing with those feelings involves writing them down, the other part is sharing them.
I do not intend to tailor this blog to any one audience. It was started as a means to express my thoughts and feelings and has always served as a space to post what I was willing to share with the world. I simply choose to share a little more of myself now than I have in the past. I believe this is a good thing, no more editing things to be sure I give away nothing that could lead others to understand what is really going on inside my head.
To those out there who have been or are concerned about my mental state: As long as I'm writing, there is nothing to be concerned about. When the writing stops or, is obviously edited it's time to start asking questions.
No comments:
Post a Comment