Well, much like the church post back in November, my previous "Suffering Silently" post is making the rounds of people that read it and forward to someone else. As a result, a few comments have gotten back to me.
It is interesting, that when I wrote that piece it was sort of cathartic for me (and for the commenter that will inevitably, like before, come back and say that I love to use SAT words, sorry. It is the way that I think, I am not trying to impress you.), because I was able to "file away" some thoughts in their own box, organized, and indexed in such a way that the most scary parts of the thoughts (and the events that caused them) are no longer so scary.
That last paragraph probably only makes sense to me, in my own head. Sorry, but I do write this to remember, and reinforce my own stuff.
But, the most interesting comment was from someone that said that it was well written, and it was obvious that I was speaking from experience. So, I went back, and re-read it, and remembered some of those experiences, and my conclusion is that they were right. And it shows that my experiences are not unique. They are universal, and part of what is known as the Human Condition.
The pain that I, and others like me, experienced, has shaped and scarred us. Some things good, some things bad. All things human.
I do not know what might come of the words that I wrote. I am not the first, and I know that I will not be the last to speak words like that. But, it was, when I wrote them, and is, now and going forward, my hope that whoever stumbles on them, finds peace, or understanding, and perhaps even some comfort in what I wrote.
The pain does fade. It never totally disappears. And, we, Humans All, are shaped by it.
Ever had something happen where you said "This is the greatest day of my life", conversely, ever had a "This is the worst day of my life"?
Think about each for a second. How did the Greatest and the Worst days of your life shape you? Are you different NOW because of those days?
I remember the day my son was born......9 months in the making.......14 hours pacing around the maternity ward on "baby day". Then that last desperate 5 minutes when the heart wasn't detected, and they did an emergency c-section. Then, suddenly, his voice piercing the room. How red he was, how he shivered. Holding him in my hands, I realized, maybe for the first time, what it really meant to love someone/something. Today, 23 years later, as I listen to that same young man's gentle snoring, and I think to myself how, just him being here, utterly changed my life.
I have similar stories for the "worst" days.....But, I think one example is enough to convey what I am trying to say.
Back to my friends that I originally wrote about. One did find out that I wrote for her, and I got a really nice response from her.
After that response, I sent the link to the other person.
I have as yet, not received anything from them in response, and that is okay. Maybe, the words that I said were not what they needed to hear from me at this time. Also, I made a lot of assumptions that they were going through a time like I described, and perhaps, I was totally off base.
There is the possibility that the words evoked thoughts and emotions that they were not expecting to get from someone that is mostly still an acquaintance, and not quite to that "friend" category. I remember in years past that I had to make a very conscious decision to go from being an acquaintance to being a friend with someone.
And THAT is a scary step indeed. Because when you do that, you open yourself up to being hurt by them.
Re-reading this thing that I have written, I find that I am all over the place, AGAIN. I hope that is not off-putting for those that casually wander in here, hoping that I am telling more stories about seeing/going to see, "My Friend That Dances".
I allowed a co-worker to read the first silently suffering post, and she asked me if I thought about and wrote down what I was going to write about, or was my writing just me sitting and typing. I told her it was the later, and she was amazed. She is an English Major, and a tech writer/trainer, and so writing is something that she knows about. She repeated something that Ms India said to me once, and I am unsure how to quantify it. She said "You have a great writing voice".
Writing that makes my "big head" swell. Pride is a strange thing.
Shalom
Namaste, My Friends.
See You On The Other Side.