*Before I say what I am about to say I want you, the reader, to know that it is not pointed at anyone. Nor has it been provoked by any recent event. Rather I was flipping through some thoughts while writing in my journal and came across a feeling deep in my heart that I felt might need to be heard.*
The thing is we all suffer. It is an unfortunate part of humanity. Everyone suffers with something different. Some of which come under the same category. Alcohol or drug abuse, mental disorder, compulsive liar, abuse, eating disorder, anxiety, panic disorder, and so on. But even when you are amongst the same category of pain as someone else it does not mean that you share the same pain. A problem with putting a title to pains like these is that people tend to generalize ideas about those who have been categorized into these groups. They think all who suffer with eating disorders got there because they hate their body. Or all who have been abused are stereotypically underprivileged, and can be picked out of a line up by the scars, bruises, and evidences of self-mutilation amongst their bodies and spirits. But reality is no one person suffers in the exact same way as the next.
The truth is if you want to know how someone suffers reading a book about their suffering written by a different author, or watching a film about it might give you a grasp. But if there is anything this last year has taught me it is that if you truly want to know how a single person is suffering, you must ask them. But never ask someone this question, ask them to open up to you, and then leave satisfied that your questions have now been answered. I pray to God that I never do something of the sort, and even more that I have not already done so. If I have I pray for forgiveness and a chance for repentance. Because the reality is sharing pain and suffering is one of the most intimate things you can do with someone. To abandon them afterwards is not only heart-wrenching but devastating.
I, for one, am tired of being picked and pried at only to have the one investigating leave satisfied that they got what they needed out of the experience, but leaving me behind the wreckage.
The thing is it all starts when you are young. You're two years old and you shove something into a tiny little box.
It's nothing big and it's not your fault, but you know it was not right. You know it should not be known by anyone else, or opened up to the ears of others. So you store it away in this tiny little box. Hoping it will never get out again. Then next thing you know you are adding more little boxes.
Then bigger boxes.
Until the next thing you know you have a huge storage container out in the middle of the woods with a beaten path leading to it because of how many times you have had to drop something off.
You are the only one who possess the key to the padlock on the front door. There is only one way to it, and you are the only one who knows the way. Some have asked how to get there, and you trusted them. So you slowly began to guide them there. Answering each question carefully and with caution. Letting them see a few boxes that you have left out along the way. Until eventually you have taken them to the storage unit. They convince you to unlock it. You go inside, and like the families of those on that T.V. show about hoarders, they begin to rummage through your boxes of locked away things like they are useless knickknacks that you have been collecting for the fun of it. They throw everything around. Everything you have worked so hard to keep compact and orderly has now became carelessly thrown in any direction. No care as to where it lands, or the damage being done along the way. You are not very proud of the boxed up items, and most of them have done you great harm. But they are yours and despite the pain they brought you they helped make you who you are. But you're okay because they are right there with you. You are finally getting to share some of the things that you never actually knew you wanted to share. But then they find something that they were looking for, or they become disgusted by the filth that has collected over the years. They sincerely apologize for all the junk you have stored in there, and then they walk away leaving you alone to deal with it all.
You seen them later. In fact, you are most likely still good friends with them. But the storage unit has reverted back to where it was originally, hidden. They dance around it like it does not exist. Sometimes thinking that this is in your favor. They act like they have forgotten the way to it. You might even be able to recognize the sincere effort they are making to cause you no harm. But the effort is futile because the act of faking ignorance itself is causing more harm. Because they left you alone with all the junk, no longer confined, but spread out everywhere and only you are there to try and piece it back together. But you can't. You never wrote out a floor plan to your pain. You don't know what goes in which box. So you give up. Walk away. Try to forget about it. But it's there. More messy now then it has ever been. Some of the residue might even be out and about lingering on the person who helped you open the unit up in the first place.
You go back to the unit because you have more stuff to drop off, but everything is so disorderly you cannot find a perfect place for this new pain. So you throw it in with the rest of the mess. And as much as you wish it wouldn't the mess becomes a problem, and makes it more and more difficult to contain. It almost renders the storage unit useless. It almost breaks down the walls. All of the damage is almost leaking out and polluting the town near by. And it tears you apart, and continues to eat away. But you remain silent because the last time you spoke about it lead you here. And the cycle continues.
See this is the danger behind leaving people when they need you most. Behind selfishly asking people about their pain and suffering. It is not wrong to wonder why someone is suffering. In fact, I would encourage you to have that discussion if you are ever brought to that point. I have always believed that people should not perish because we are too cowardly to simply ask what is wrong and how we can help. But the issue is you cannot just leave it at that. You cannot just leave them hanging with no idea how to pick up the pieces that you have now scattered in front of them. It does not have to be the conversational piece of every outing. But at least remind them every now and then that you are still there and available to talk if needed. If it lasts a few hours, then so be it. In my opinion a few hours "wasted" in allowing someone to share a little of themselves with you is one of the most important things you will ever do in your lifetime.
I leave you with this. We all suffer, and our suffering is caused by many things. There is no measurement or scale. What some consider a one on the pain level scale, others consider a ten. And that is okay. We can't box people up, slap on a label, and call it a day. When it comes down to it we have to care. We have to care why they are in pain. Then we have to care more about helping them through it. Then we have to care enough to not leave them, but rather to continue with them on the journey because that what life is all about. God created us to be creatures of community. This does not mean that you have to go out and befriend everyone in sight. God created us in a way that communicates with certain other people. Just because you are the type of person who only has a few friends does not mean that you have failed. It just might be that those few people need you the most. I guess simply put, there is already enough pain in this world that we should not add to it by carelessly rummaging through each other's lives like a bull in a China shop hoping that they'll pick up the pieces, or time will heal it. Our community has become one where canceling plans on a whim for the next one that we find that is "better", and looking out for ourselves and only ourselves is not only mundane but encouraged. But no matter how much we like to pretend otherwise we live on a populated Earth, not on a planet of isolation. So this method of "you do your thing, I'll do mine, and everything will be chill" can only go so far. Eventually our bubbles are going to bump into each, and we are going to see each other's damage that has occurred along way but has been suppressed by many pain killers, whether it be in pill form or not. As a result we will be affected. You have to decide... Will you keep on walking, digging through people's damage just to find what you were looking for and leave, or will you stop, recognize the people around you, and help them pick up the pieces that have been shattered by the carelessness of others before you? Even more will you have the courage to help others pick up the pieces that have been shattered by your own hands?
