I have no first hand experience with clinical depression. I have known an unfortunate number of people who do. Most of them manage it, but sadly there have been a few who just couldn't.
No matter how you might try to be sympathetic to someone in turmoil, if you've never experienced what they are feeling, you can't possibly understand. Every part of you might strain to offer comfort, but your lack of experience keeps you just beyond reach. Utter helplessness may follow.
In attempting to make sense of the world around us, or more specifically the people we interact with, we tend to first project our ideals and imagined ways of coping, dealing, and feeling. We forget, even for just seconds, that the person our heart breaks for at any given moment is not us. The moment we remember that each of us is unique, it sinks in how alone we all are at times. We share some ideas, reactions, and views, but we can only imagine what it is to be in someone else's shoes. It is impossible to ever really stand in them, let alone walk a mile in them.
What amazes me is how readily some of us are to berate ourselves for not being better friends, loved ones, or confidantes. If we accept that we are all unique souls, responsible for ourselves and our continuous experiences, then at what point do we decide it is just to take on the burden of someone else's difficulties or inability to navigate the treacherous waters of life?
Be sad. Be affected. Be completely sideswiped and blown away. When a cared for individual is unreachable emotionally, mentally, or spiritually, it isn't because of anything we as their friends, siblings, parents, and relatives have done or have failed to do. We simply have not ever experienced the depths of despair that grip them so tightly. It is like trying to pound nails into wood with the picture of a hammer; not even remotely the right tool for the job.
It isn't that caring words and the offer of a listening ear shouldn't be extended. But should we refrain, we ought not lament over what we already concluded we did not understand. Even if we continue to do our best to convey sympathy, we can't possibly fault ourselves when it all falls short of empathy.
As much as we all rely on our connections with other people in life, we must find some way of being at peace and comfortable in the knowledge that we are, in many respects, alone. Practicing both my own awareness of this and the celebration of being able to connect with others, has undoubtedly kept me from falling over the edge into that pit of despair and depression. I have lived through shit I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy, yet I am here and able to stay out of the grip of that particular darkness.
I don't know depression; I can only imagine what it must be like. I cannot imagine ever contemplating the end of my existence for any reason, except to save my sons. I don't have the answers, but I do know how to just be present when someone is in need. And while someone I know choosing to end their pain in such a final and irreversible way is sad, it is not an act anyone who hasn't walked that line could ever possibly understand. Life takes a dizzying amount of turns, and second guessing or reciting 'should have', 'could have', or 'what ifs' only blurs the lines of truth.
Be the best version of you that you are able to at any given moment. Should someone in need be touched by your candor, warmth, or giving heart, rejoice. But if your words, actions and positive energy never reach that person, remember that their soles are worn in ways you cannot ever comprehend; never fault yourself for not being enough. We cannot force our own clarity into someone else's din. All we can do is shine our light, and be there for those who follow it out of their dark times.
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