The other day, one of the people I work with, whom I invite to write because it is something he likes whenever he can, gave me this writing that I asked him to read to me. The writing, in his notebook of reflections, said like this:
Regarding the unfathomability of the mind, there would be a lot to say, although less and less. The reason is that, at times, it becomes so immensely empty, dark, opaque and unfathomable, even when swimming inside it. Less and less mystery. Sometimes it is shown as a room in the most absolute darkness, no supposed light is capable of illuminating its interior and, without windows, the exterior does not exist. You walk step by step without seeing a single cake; You write, like me now, without seeing, in the blackness that prevents you from seeing beyond the hole. Thoughts, as such, barely flow; It is the feelings, the most negative ones above all, that become your breathing. It’s not that you can’t find a way out, it’s that you “know” that such a thing does not exist and the thick blackness takes over your hours, your appetite, even your senses. You then stop asking yourself questions, you turn off the flashlight whose focus is not able to penetrate the darkness and you try to merge with the despair, to stop suffering from it and belong to it; and be one with her, in nothingness. Nothing exists anymore, no one exists anymore and there is no ground under your feet or stars in your sky. Sometimes vertigo comes, perhaps it is this that helps you leave the dark room To go, to go with the music, to go somewhere else, to nothing perhaps clearer (nothing) than the dark night in which you live. (F.J.)
It is enough to read these words to feel a certain resonance somewhere in ourselves. Perhaps it is a more intense resonance, or even less intense; Maybe it is more or less frequent in our daily lives. Perhaps it has a greater or lesser sadness associated with it.
Maybe let’s just connect with your deep pain, but we cannot put ourselves in his shoes and “suffer” like him, his suffering. However, either way, he touches us. And we get excited.
And we want to help: we try to encourage, and we also want to understand “why” it is like this, what we can do to change it.
There are situations, circumstances, emotions, that sometimes we cannot “understand” but Even so we feel them intensely We cannot change from the outside what happens so internally in someone; The change has to come from within the person themselves, through their own reflection. Touching the pain, looking at it head on.
I know, How difficult it is not to be able to do for others! Do not, but let us remember that only sincerely accompanying, relieves: without judgment, without sorrow, without words…
You… What would you say to him?
There are numerous situations in which words fall short Whoever experiences something like this, the same words feel empty and are just a way of “emotionally vomiting” what can no longer be supported inside. And that, furthermore, is okay: to feel overwhelmed, without a way out, sunk… A piece of paper can be easier, more comfortable, to “get it out of yourself” because the ink does not judge, it does not complain, it does not ask…
We have the right to also express emptiness, disappointment, hopelessness, without being judged And when we find that someone by our side who actively listens to us, without wanting to change it, what we feel takes on a new meaning. Because I allow myself to, because I feel accepted as a person and human who feels and suffers.
What would happen if we broadened our perspective to “simply” be and feel with the other from where the other is?
Being and accompanying is sometimes enough to minimize the perceived pain
Suicides are increasing in number: In Spain just over 4,000 people took their lives last year, that’s 11 people a day on average! And in just the last year, suicides among those under 15 years of age almost increased by almost 60%.
We can create more awareness of the importance of not only accepting where we are with our own pain, but – and at the same time – accepting that of others, integrating it as part of our human nature and from there, being able to heal it.
Everything that hurts and is not expressed becomes chronic. Self-imposed silence depresses. Lack of understanding and social intolerance also kill.
