Feeling sad or depressed isn’t something that people wish to feel. When bad things happen to us, they really affect us in ways that we would have never imagined. We end up doing things we never thought we could do, completely out of character, to relieve the pain… even if it only provides temporary relief and a lifetime of regret.
People turn to drugs (legal or illegal) or irrational impulsive behaviors to help numb the pain, drive the sadness away… but obviously that has it’s own slew of collateral damage. What people don’t realize is the power of having someone to talk to. Bottling things up, and holding a regret inside is probably the worst feeling ever. Being able to be honest and open up to someone about depression and your actions without fear of labeling is possibly the most therapeutic thing ever.
But the fear is truly of judgement. If I tell someone about my sadness, or my actions – what if they think that this defines me? It’s not who I am, it was a momentary lapse in judgement due to the situation at that time, but suddenly what if this falsely becomes my identity? I’m not a crazy woman, something really bad has happened to me. But if I talk about it… suddenly I feel like I’m just drama. Why?
It’s not easy to deal with someone who has gone through an immense amount of mental trauma. The fear, the outbursts, the tears, the distrust, the constant waiting for the other shoe to drop. A broken limb takes months to heal… in a cast. You cannot physically cast something so abstract as the mind, or a broken heart… all you can do is listen, try to empathize with a person’s situation, continue caring, continue loving….and not judge.
The world isn’t black and white. It’s easy to jump to conclusions when life has been easy. Walk a mile in my shoes, and then tell me if you still think I’m crazy.