“People who laugh the most have experienced the most pain” – Unkown
The first time I saw this picture I thought to myself: “Oh my God, that’s me!”. It stopped me dead in my tracks and burned its image in my mind. It connected with the “me” that learned long ago to protect myself with some things I saw as assets, such as humor and analytical thinking, in order to survive the life I was living.
It is safety and connection that I believe we all crave. When those needs are not met we are faced with choices- “How will I fill this need?…eat?…drugs?…alcohol?…sex?
The names Robin Williams, Chris Cornell, and Chester Bennington all invoke sadness and questions. Did they each struggle to connect with others as I have? Were their sensitivities and views of life just too hard to articulate? Is this what ultimately drove them to a point of not seeing a reason to keep living? I am only speculating. One thing I do know is that depression is blinding, like a thick black fog, consuming everything on the ground and taking away all perspective, and covering all the beacons of light. It is safety and connection that I believe we all crave. When those needs are not met we are faced with choices- “How will I fill this need?…eat?…drugs?…alcohol?…sex?…..end the search?…”
I find that making connection is not difficult to do. To me, the pain comes in not being able to maintain it. Some relationships last a week, a few months, years, or a lifetime. In all my relationships I can only be accountable for myself as the common denominator in all of them. That person inside my head sometimes retreats and ruminates over careless and sharp words spoken, and of things she wishes had been spoken. Rather than trying to erase uncomfortable memories, I find that acknowledging and letting those thoughts breathe, is how I find peace, and change into something better.
I learned to use laughter as a defense mechanism to get me through tough situations. Unfortunately, the hard feelings got tamped down, giving me a false sense of safety and validation.
We all need the same thing – someone willing to sit with us in those dark hours without answers. It is in the sitting and the being there that provides the answer.
I find some of my saltiness and defensiveness from the past no longer serves me well. Instead, humility and humanity are things to share with others who have my best interests in mind and who don’t make me feel like hiding, but rather acknowledging the person behind the defenses for who they really are. To see with compassion, understanding, and a willingness to connect.
I wish I could’ve talked to some of those who committed suicide, who decided life had no hope, or light, and were exhausted from laughing on the outside, but crying on the inside. That is an unsustainable task. Sometimes we all get to a point where all feels lost. I can’t imagine the loss some have experienced and the amount of grief that it generates. I know we all need the same thing – someone willing to sit with us in those dark hours without answers. It is in the sitting and being there that provides the answer.
What is the difference between the day I first saw that picture and now? I acknowledge I was the one crying on the inside, but only felt safe to show the laughing “me” on the outside. I sometimes feel overwhelming waves of truth mingled with tears melting away denial and excuses – a relief that lightens my load. I’m not ashamed of who I was or who I’m becoming. Eventually, it will all be made whole and I’ll see a portrait instead of an unfinished puzzle and maybe you will too….