I’ve been thinking about this post for awhile, it just wasn’t particularly clear enough to write. Some friends came over before the big turkey dinner for a movie, The Royal Tenenbaums. I hadn’t seen it in years, but this time it felt rather different.
A few years ago, there were some things I didn’t really understand. I obviously knew about addiction and suicide, I knew people got lost in both, but I didn’t understand why. I guess I had sympathy without empathy. I always thought it ridiculous and sad that someone would do anything to chase a fix, or want to die, and then make it happen. Both things are still sad, but I don’t think they’re ridiculous. I don’t look down on people who do such things and wonder, “why?” I get the whys now, whether I want to or not.
Sometimes life feels so painful, so wrong, all a person wants is a break, anything to feel some sort of comfort. Drugs and alcohol provide that comfort, they make that pain stop for a little while. While a person’s high on whatever they’re on it seems like the best idea in the world, everything feels so perfectly clear, and safe. Of course, this is temporary, everybody comes down, and the life that felt bad before feels even worse with the contrast. Each fix feels a little less great, and the next fix feels a little more important. If one’s fixes don’t result in accidental death, maybe they get help. Or maybe they don’t.
Sometimes life hurts so much, one feels so entirely lost and alone, that bleeding in the bathtub honestly seems like the only fix. Everything feels empty, highs are temporary at best, and one knows it. Suicides are missing a spark, that little voice that says tomorrow will be better. It’s terrifying when that voice is silent.
I understand why people fall down and stay down. It’s totally sad when it happens, but it happens nonetheless. It’s absolutely sad, but it’s not nonsense. Not to me, not anymore.3 comments
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