I have spent some time thinking about you lately. I know, that sounds so creepy.
You told me that you have lost some faith in the process and life is not working out for you, right now. I can hear you talking and sometimes there are silences because I am absorbing the weight of your despair. You carry a very heavy burden, and have been for a while. This has been a long drought.
At this point in the journey counseling rarely helps in any tangible way. I think a person gets beaten up for so long that, like in any prize fight, eventually you are so punch-drunk that it’s impossible to stand up straight; and it seems like you will never stand tall again. I get that. Counseling is hard enough to believe in when things are going your way.
There is a cardinal rule in counseling that, as a therapist, you never make it about you. Good counselors don’t abscond with the pain and diminish the journey of those who are suffering. But this is a letter and I’m not charging you for this session. So I will be ever so brief when I contend that I know a little about what it feels like to be suicidal, and I’m familiar with years of gut-wrenching pain. In a very unfortunate way, many of us can relate to this living death, and this is a club that no one wants to join. Welcome to our team, we suck.
There are lessons in life that you only learn in hell. As cliché as this may sound, it is oft repeated because it also happens to be very true for oh so many of us. You are visiting the living death, and I can only imagine how soul crushing that must be. In your particular case, there was no life-killing death or disease, just the relentless grind of the ordinary, and the profanity of a world that kills our dreams. Someone hurt you very bad, all those years ago, and some kinds of scars don’t go away without mountains of therapy. Those of us who have been neglected, or bore physical or mental “deformities”, those who were bullied or beaten or raped, that stuff is very real and it will wreck your life if you don’t take this very seriously. But enough preaching.
Don’t give up. Nothing I can say to you is going to help right now, but there is one thing I do know for sure. If you stick this out you are going to be wiser. This is meaning of life stuff. You believe that this life is going to go on forever and that’s normal. Virtually no one really understands where the journey is going to end when it has been months and years of failure and broken promises.
Sometimes, when I listen to the stories all day long, I get caught up in the hopelessness. There have been times in our sessions when your frustration and hurt washes over me, and I get just a glimpse of what it must feel like to live in your reality. I have literally watched hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people who have been punched in the throat and are convinced that their problems are terminal, and are tempted to give up. Hell, many of us give up all the time.
I have known others in this journey who have spent years, and I mean years, struggling to cope with a reality they never dreamed possible. Lives of loss and loneliness and the fear that their lives don’t matter and they will die, forgotten.
Don’t give up. Someday is coming, it’s just probably going to take years longer than you have been promised or believe. Longer than anyone imagines. I told something this morning that it could take years to move beyond some mental health challenges. Keep reading and thinking and arguing with me, I can take it. I do this job because I firmly believe it is possible to create a different future, and I watched my father systematically do so as I was growing up. The people in my family believe that the future is not set because my orphaned parent fought against all odds and fixed his shitty reality. Some lessons only come with time and sometimes it isn’t time, quite yet. Most of us don’t have an inspirational orphan story to keep us going when we have only known failure all our lives. How can you embrace a future you believe only exists in movies and for other people.
Reminds me of that quote, “passing on what you didn’t learn”.
6 thoughts on “A Letter To A Friend”
“Apensiveheart” was right, this letter was “Perfect timing” for me as well Scott
Well Scott, I think apensiveheart was right about the “Perfect timing”. Your letter brought out some pretty deep stuff for me. I keep thinking I’m wasting your time but I guess I’m just scared of letting all ‘my stuff’ out into the light of day, especially to a man. I always said having you as a counsellor was going to be challenging for me but I’m just starting to realize how true that really is
How did you know? Thank you for thinking of “me.” 😂
I also feel like apensiveheart – thank you for your great timing on this subject. I was just recently in your office wondering why I keep coming. I keep feeling like I’m wasting your time, feeling guilty as ever. We keep going over the same quicksand again and again and I keep making appointments, but I’m really still wondering why. I’m still drowning, just a little slower. I still feel numb, I still don’t cry, I still feel my husband doesn’t believe me, I’m still exhausted and in pain most of the time. I want try to remain positive, but many days it just feels like a lie. On the rare better days, I keep hoping ‘Someday is coming’. Maybe this is the beginning of the better times? But then I get swallowed up again by my own doubt and insecurity. Emotional quicksand. Deadly.
I appreciate the inspiration. I’m hoping some of it will rub off and appreciate that my counsellor gives a damn. Right now your kind insight gives me hope. Thank you for that.
That was really amazing Scott, and really good timing. Grandpa said it was a must read. I have been waiting for your newest post for a while ;).
Perfect timing. I really needed that. Thank you.