Wednesday, June 02, 2004

Asking for help

I might post a journal entry from a couple weeks ago, from back when things looked really scary and darkness filled me. Only for the reason of making it clear that I really understand how dark it can get for anyone, locked inside mind and fears. Why is this important today? Because I chose one path, and I just found out that a friend chose the other.

My friend Denise committed suicide on Friday. I've known her for a couple of years. I designed logos and a slew of branding elements for her business. One thing about the kind of work I do, is that people have to get very honest about what motivates them, and strong friendships blossom from that honesty. I feel like she really understood me, and I her.

Like her, I'm a vibrant person. Like her, lots of people like me. Like her, I'm doing a lot and getting a lot done. Also like her, the pressure to be the strong one, the one with the answers, the one who always says, "Can do!" clearly sets up an overwhelm, an internal toggle that switches and separates us from the people who could help us. What, me? Need help? I just have to push through this somehow, and then I can get back to my (self assigned) role as hero!

Honestly, I would not commit suicide. But I am capable of becoming a complete shut-in, and of holding the entire world at bay. My perception shifts so that abundance becomes burden, and I lack worthiness to consume anything stronger than air.

What I see is that I can't fight or sleep or drink my way out of these moods. As much as I hate it and as much as my internal tape runs to tell me it's not the right thing to do, I let someone safe know what is going on inside. And I mean, the real truth about what I'm feeling, to someone who can listen and accept. This simple act of relating to someone who doesn't need me for anything, opens doors to new paths of wholesome behavior. I don't "get better" but I do get a needed "reset." It's usually not my wife who can listen like this. In fact, Denise and I did just this for each other a few times.

Dang, I wish she had talked to me first.

I miss her already.

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