Monday, February 22, 2016

Words left unsaid

It is hard to describe how I’m feeling right now. Sometimes I just need to pour my thoughts out onto a page with no rhyme or reason. It does not have to make sense, I just have to have this release. It is the best therapy I’ve found thus far.


The last few days seem to have stood still, or perhaps I’ve been asleep and I’m about to wake up. There’s a numbness that I can’t seem to shake. An old high school classmate decided to leave this earth last week. We were not really friends in school, but we did not dislike each other either, we just spun in different circles. He was artistic, I remember that about him, and he was a class clown, always making people laugh and just generally being a goofball. He got along with everybody because he was nice to everybody.


He became a very talented artist. He had a unique style and method that I’d not seen before or since. A couple of years ago he emailed me and asked if I would write a news story about him to try to get a sponsorship to exhibit at the Eastern Idaho State Fair. I agreed to write a story, but told him that I had to focus on his art rather than the sponsorship.


We chatted by phone, it was great to sort of catch up. I interviewed him, got to pick his brain a bit and ask him about his inspiration. I don’t know if he liked the article, I never heard, but that year at the state fair I did stop by his booth to chat and watch him paint.


His death is stinging more than it should, I know. It’s not like we were best friends. I wrote “happy birthday” on his Facebook timeline every year, I watched the time lapsed videos he made to show his paintings come together.




It’s the fact that he made the decision to go. I and everyone else who knew him is asking why. How could someone so talented, so funny, outgoing and seemingly happy make that choice? It stings to know that he did not feel his own worth. It stings to know that his incredible talent has been snuffed out.


I never would have guessed we had anything in common. I’m the introverted goth rock n’ roll girl and he’s the outgoing, daring, popular, top 40, friends-with-everybody type. But if I’d only known he was hurting. Maybe if I’d been able to talk to him, to show him the giant scar on my wrist and tell him that it gets better, trust me  . . . tomorrow may be the best day of your life, don’t give up.


My heart breaks to hear of anyone taking that route, even people I don’t know, because I know that dark place. It’s a blinding, paralysing  pain that no one should ever feel. Having survived it I want to pull other people out, I want to help. I care too much about other people and it comes across wrong to a lot of people, but I can’t just shut it off. Maybe people need to care a little more about each other . . .


A co-worker and I had a great conversation today about the mental health crisis in this country. I could write an entire post just on that subject, but I’ll sum up lest I ramble on for days and piss off the more conservative members of my family.
In the U.S. things like depression are seen as weakness. We’re told that we should “tough it out,” “get over it,” “just be happy.” I’ve been accused of trying to get attention and being dramatic. Because of this stigma few people seek help and instead turn to things like drugs. There also just happens to be a lot of pain pill addiction going on . . . When are we going to wake up and start opening our ears and eyes to this? Depression is not weakness. Do people actually think people who are bi-polar choose to be that way? If so they are the best actors/actresses in the world.


If I could change the world there would be more help for those afflicted with the countless mental issues that exist in this materialistic, self-absorbed culture.

I can’t do that, but I can listen and try to help. Maybe that’s the answer to my why. I’m supposed to help other people .


I'll see so many people from my graduating class this Saturday, but it will be bittersweet. It's not real, he would not do that to himself, there's no way, he was too well-liked, too talented, too happy. But no-one can ever truly know what is going on in another person's head I suppose. 

I wish him peace, and I wish his family peace. Be comforted in the fact that he was so well-liked, that he touched people all over the world with his incredible talent. His paintings hang on walls in many different countries. He was a good person. So many hearts are  broken. 

No comments:

Post a Comment