Tiny Bits of Kindness

They weren’t still plagued with the questions. They have gone on with their lives. They don’t think about this suicide or are touched by it quite like me. But once in awhile, I’ll be reminded as to how good other people can be in the wake of such tragedy. People will exemplify the best of humanity. It’s these moments that keep me going through this.

Last night was a tough one for me. I went to see my Suicidology therapist. She’s studied Suicidology for over thirty years and is doing a great job educating me on mental illness, medication, depression and what stuff I need to look at and what stuff appears to have been out of my control. At times, I feel like the college student I wish I had been, questioning her for answers in a realm where I never thought I’d roam. It was also a session where I let out one of the many secrets that I am still holding. The intimate moments between my partner and me where we sat and cried and each wondered to ourselves, or aloud, “What the hell is happening here?” I told her about the last time I saw my partner, how he crotched down on the front porch of my apartment and just cried. How I just sat there DYING to reach out and hug him and take him and tell him I would make it all okay, but knew that I had done all that I could do for too long of a time. It was the first time in a long time where he told me, “You look so beautiful.” I wondered why it had taken him years to be able to say that to me. Why it took hitting rock bottom for that thought to be shared, for when I ever asked to hear that, to get a clue as to if he ever felt I looked pretty, it would come off as me being needy.

The tears came in drops, then they came as waterfalls, and the emotions that I had thought had been worked through bubbled to the surface like the geothermal land we lived near which is always waiting to erupt.

“I guess I still have a lot of emotion. I don’t think I’ve shared that with anyone.”

I surprised myself. Here I was, an open book, who would say to my friends, “No, please, ask me questions and if I feel up to it, I’ll answer.” This would eventually lead to, “Ask me anything, please,” once I felt safe enough.

The session came to an end.