I'm having a dark day. We're not supposed to talk about them. We're not supposed to belly ache. We're not supposed to "wallow." We are not supposed to cry in public. We are not supposed to admit to our weakness, our frailty, our out-of-controlness- or our incompetence. When someone asks, "How are you?" the socially acceptable response is "I'm fine, how are you?" It would be impolite to dump your darkness all over another human being. This darkness is further exacerbated by shame. We are "supposed" to be happy. There is a stigma attached to being unhappy. As if someone who is unhappy is choosing to be. Insisting upon dwelling there. But that doesn't stopped the darkness from setting up a residence in some people's souls. Beneath the smiles and the glossy exteriors of some of your friends there might be a black hole that sucks them in but which they have learned to cover up. In fact, I'm going to assume that right now someone you think is exceedingly charmed is sitting home pacifying their dark beast. Someone you believe to be blessed is lulling themselves to sleep with an arsenal of weapons - sad movies, ice cream, alcohol, cutting, sex, heroin... so much to choose from. All in the hope of making the beast abate so they can go back to their seemingly carefree existence.
I just read an article that Russell Brand wrote about his 10 year sobriety. In the wake of the death of Philip Seymour Hoffman, his story touched me deeply. He talked very candidly about the way heroin lured him and continues to lure him daily. His struggle with sobriety was described in nearly poetic terms. The seduction from his heroin lover was described as the "... bilious kiss of the greedy bliss." I read that several times over. I've never done heroin but I've heard many descriptors for it and this one reaches me viscerally. Good job, Mr. Brand, at helping a non user grasp the surrender to a greedy master. It is the thing of vampire romances.
Reading his article, so close to this other brilliant man's tragic death, on a day when I am feeling the desire to feel such exquisite surrender, such sublime escape from my own black depths - it has made me think. In my current raw state I am, luckily, not ashamed to write about this topic. Because I've always felt that if more of us exposed our souls in this manner, we might prevent future senseless deaths. I know it isn't that simple. I realize the problem is compounded by the physical dependency that comes with using drugs or other substances. I know it isn't as easy as giving someone a hug. But maybe, just maybe, if he'd felt like there was a person or persons he could go to who would see him - really see him - light and dark. If he'd felt he had a lap he could wallow and wail into until his darkness passed. Then, maybe the needle would have stopped calling him so loudly. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't have succumbed to that "bilious kiss of the greedy bliss."
We must become more human. We need to be less media driven and less star crazed. Philip Seymour Hoffman was one of the most gifted actors to grace our screens. Amy Winehouse was one of the most talented singers I'd heard in a very long time when she died. Why are so many brilliant people giving in and giving up? I speculate that despite their incredible success and fame, they still feel like they are falling short. Even if only in their minds - they feel it. Nothing can soothe the furious and unrelenting voice beating them up from the inside. And surely, this must be compounded by a pressure to be Godlike. To be above it. Perhaps they feel they couldn't possibly admit to being unhappy. How dare they complain about anything, graced as they are with good fortune? We mere mortals cannot relate to that kind of pressure. But if I put myself in their shoes for a few moments, I can imagine that it must become a terrible double edged burden.
This leads me to the final point of this article. Mental health in this country is woefully deemphasized - shunned by many. Mental and spiritual instability brings with it societal ostracization. The devalued homeless are systematically swept off city streets and hidden away so as not to blemish cities' outward images of tidiness and order. It is just another way in which our denial of emotional imbalance manifests itself. The bureaucratic answer is to hide the dark creatures, and then they won't exist. But they do. The mentally ill and spiritually lost on the streets are the most blatant example of our loss of humanity. These are the people who stopped smiling and saying, "I'm fine, how are you?" Either they surrendered to the needle entirely or they chose to walk away from a society that gave up on them. Either way, they're not all that different from Philip Seymour Huffman in the end. Their life just took them on a different journey.
We must be less afraid of peering into those dark places. We must, as a society, honor each other. Not by shunning or whitewashing and denying the existence of our dark places, but gently shedding a soft embracing light into those spaces. As such, I think it is high time we discuss why most insurance plans barely cover mental health services. I think it is high time we consider having more humane systems in place for people who have drifted outside of the community. In particular, we need to bring mental and spiritual services back to schools. When I say spiritual, I don't mean religious. What I mean is that kids need a sense of community and peoplehood and empathy and lovingness that is too often being replaced by material pursuits and the attainment of surface, goal oriented success.
Adam Lanza of the Sandy Hook tragedy might have turned to drugs but instead he turned to violence. This is just another side of the same coin. And it didn't need to happen. After that tragedy there was some noise here and there in some of the media circles about mental health. There was talk of how his mental health was neglected and schools needed better ways of identifying at-risk youth. But then it went quiet. I had hoped that Obamacare would come with better mental health coverage and make a statement about caring for the souls of our citizens, as well as our bodies. But then that didn't manifest either.
So on this dark day, with my dark thoughts pursuing me, I have put my own inner voices on pause so I can listen to the wailing of the many who don't just have dark days, but dark weeks, months, years. And as a fellow human, I wish to speak for all of us. We need to do better. Each and every one of us needs to do better. We can't shake our heads as if the tragedies have nothing to do with us. We can't post a message and be consider our part done. We must live with our eyes where our hearts are. Aware and unashamed. Loving enough to care and brave enough to face the ugly sides of our natures. We may not have the assistance of our representatives but we can look out for each other. Because we are all close enough to someone else to catch them before they fall.
