I’ve never bought a Kate Spade bag or watched any Bourdain show, but I know this guy who nearly took his life.
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| image from karrierebibel |
He's funny and smart and docile and kind. I like how he makes everyone laugh with his antics and quick remarks. He’s genteel and always ready to help, too.
We always talk. Well, actually he talks and I listen.
One day, he rolled up his sleeves and showed me the scars on his wrists- some healed slits, some fresh wounds, all ugly random attempts to take his own life.
“I need to see blood flowing just to make sure that I’m still alive”, he said.
I was quiet. For once, I didn't know what to say. I simply looked at him questioningly.
“There are times when I just want to end it but I always hear my younger sister’s cries in my head and so I’ll stop.”, he opened up.
There was a huge WHY hanging over my head. I wanted to cry and scream and go crazy at that moment but I mustered all my strength to stay calm despite the shocking news.
And so, I urged him to tell me his story. I listened. I asked questions but I never gave him any advice.
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At that time, I knew I simply have to be there for him.
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It went on for days, weeks, months.
So, when we were at mass and he got scared of all the strangers religiously reciting their prayers but were secretly plotting to kill him, we ran out of the church like thieves. When he was adamant that the neighbors could hear his thoughts every time he takes a bath, I let him stink for days. When he cut classes because black CIA airplanes were hounding him, I told him to hide inside the house.
There was nothing else I could do at that time but allow him to go through it and make sure he knows I’m on his side. Everyone else gave him his much needed space, too.
Eventually, he allowed us to seek help. I would go with him to every consultation. Everyone else discretely monitored his condition. With his consent, we also made the necessary changes.
It was a long ordeal. Years passed. He gradually became stronger and learned how to manage it.
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| image from karrierebibel |
Recently, I asked him what the struggle felt like.
“I was like a sick chick battling with dear life at that time. I felt all of you cradled me in the palm of your hands, accepted me for who I am and took care of me.”
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| image from youtube |
I’m not one who likes to give advice. Please let me just give this one: Be kind. But first, to yourself so you can have a big heart to embrace others.
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