We, each of us, burn in our own personal Hell. I say "personal,"because we don't share them with anyone. It's part of our society.We don't talk about the things that matter to us, especially withour friends. Think about it.
How well do you really know the people you spend your Fridaynights with? Do you know about their dreams? What they really careabout, when all the idle talk and posturing and sexual tension isgone?
I doubt it.
We don't talk about the things that really bother us. Not withour friends, not with our families, and sometimes not even with ourpartners. We smile and we chat and we say the right things, andonly when we're alone with our thoughts, we admit the truth toourselves. For some people this isn't much of a stretch - there arehappy, well-adjusted people walking the Earth, and odds are you'verun into at least one of them somewhere along the way, but they'rein the minority. Way in the minority.
There are people - a lot more than we would imagine, I think -who go home and cry themselves to sleep at night. There are peoplewho smile and laugh and are completely miserable. There are peopleright now who are thinking about suicide. At least one of them isprobably someone you know. One of them might be you, constantreader. I don't suffer from delusions of grandeur, but I wouldn'tbe surprised if one of the people who picks up and reads thisarticle has given deep and serious thought to the advantages ofdeath. We go through life, and some of us are utterly andcompletely dead inside, and nobody ever finds out. You aren'tsupposed to tell your friends about those things. It's bad manners.Your friends don't want to hear about your crap, they want to enjoythemselves, have a good time, and get on with life, right?
That's what we believe, and sometimes it's true, sick as thatmay be. We don't seem to have any way of differentiating betweenthose who care about us, and those who care about us when it suitstheir needs. Friends help you move. Real friends help you haul theskeletons out of your closet. But, of course, that doesn't happenbecause we don't TALK about it!
Do you attend any classes of more than 50 people? Then take agood look around, then, 'cause chances are someone in there isgoing to do themselves in before the age of 40, and a good eight or10 of them are going to think long and hard about it. And I thoughtthis was supposed to be a haven of light and life! I thought thiswas the good place. Isn't this the place people envy? The placepeople look to for wisdom and tolerance and readiness to face theworld? And we can't even keep our own people alive?
And half of us are miserable, and the other half don't know whatthey want out of life and wouldn't try for it if they DID?
Someone you know is going to go home tonight and cry themselvesto sleep.
It might be a friend, a loved one, a family member, or you,constant reader.
Talk to the people you dare to call your friends. Pay attentionto them, and listen to their stories.
If it is you... if you go home and sit, lost, and silent, anddead inside, please, for the love of all that ever mattered toanyone in this world, talk to somebody. Anybody. Even me.
Write to Jonathan at
tenement_cellar@msn.com
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