The guilt of causing worry, sharing suffering, the pathway out of rock bottom, and an audio diary entry (!!!)
I am so very grateful for you all.
AUDIO VERSION WHAT’S UPPPPPPPP??? Plz enjoy this 25 minute ramble on the guilt of causing worry, care, compassion, selfishness, suffering, suicidal ideation, and a guide to living for people who would sometimes rather die.
Emotional Impact Warning for content about suicide. If you’re struggling with self-harm or suicidal ideation, please call the National Lifeline at 988.
Okay. Here’s goes. I am recording an audio version of this diary entry, partly because—actually 100% because—nope, I take that back—oh this is hard. [laughter] Let me start over.
[long pause]
Okay, hello, I am recording an audio version of this diary entry because I almost forgot that I needed to post a diary entry today, which is something people with ADHD can understand.
How do you forget to do something that you have done every day now for 20 days— 19 days?
I almost forgot in the same way that some days in college, I would forget to go to my afternoon classes. I would finish my morning class and then I would have a break and I would go get a snack or take a nap, and then I would literally just forget I had a class after that, despite the fact that I would go to this class three times a week.
So, consistency? Not my strength. For sure.
[sigh]
So, I am recording this podcast—podcast?? I am recording the podcast version of this diary entry, in part because I almost forgot to write a diary entry, and the other cause for the audio podcast today—audio version—is that, the thing that I really wanted to write about today is a concept complex enough that it requires me to sit down and think about how I want to say it in words on a page, but sometimes I find talking out loud is a little easier. And a lot of people do feel that way, I think. I used to recommend to my students when I was teaching college composition that they should grab a voice memo and simply record what it is that they wanted to write about, because sometimes that’s easier than putting it onto the page.
And sometimes, it means that things come out in a garbled collection of words that don’t make any sense either, even if they come out audio version, instead of on the page.
Regardless.
What I wanted to write about today (or talk about today) is the concept of worrying and worrying people and being a cause for worry, which I find I have been a lot in the last 20 days, and often in my life, even before I started this project.
[sigh] Oh, I admit it is nerve-wracking and very vulnerable to admit to the public that I am struggling with my mental health, in a new way. I’ve posted about it before on Instagram, but this is a daily practice that I’ve committed to, which means, I’ve had to admit over and over and over [awkward laugh] to people now, for 20 days, that I am not doing well sometimes.
[sigh]
And that is hard, because I am causing you, dear listeners and dear readers, worry; and worry is a hard emotion.
Worry is related to grieving, I think. Worrying about other people [I mean]. Not worrying, like anxiety for the future or worry for our own lives; but when we worry about other people? That emotion is related to grieving. And grieving is a painful emotion.
I did not realize quite how painful grief feels until this year:
grieving my grandfather passing last year,
grieving the loss of my marriage,
grieving the loss of my father in December,
grieving the loss of Colorado as home.
So, partly, this post is to apologize for causing any of you worry.
[long pause]
I am fine. [awkward laugh] in the way that I am okay, in the way that I am still alive, and committed to being alive, in a new way.
I feel like I got a second chance on life.
I feel like I got a second chance on life for real,
and it doesn’t make it any easier—
these last 20 days have been pretty much exactly as sad as the 20 days before I tried to kill myself—
Oh gosh, to say that sentence out loud.
[long pause]
I said to a friend on the phone the other day that I feel like I should have grown out of that feeling by now. That the desire to kill oneself—it feels very childish to me. So immature. And I know that that judgement is a self-judgement that I’m heaping on myself that is completely unnecessary and also completely flawed, because suicidal ideation is something that affects everyone at every age, and to judge myself for it doesn’t help anything, really.
But it is hard to say that out loud.
It is really hard to tell people.
There are some of my friends that don’t know yet, because they are not reading this blog. They’re not on social media. And it’s because I haven’t had the courage to tell them. And isn’t that strange? That it’s easier to blast news off like that into the internet, for whoever to stumble across it and read it, than to tell the people who live closest to me—oh no, they don’t live closest to me unfortunately—the people who love closest to me. The people who I love. The people who I am closest to.
It’s so strange, the secrets we keep from each other.
[long pause]
I’m rambling a bit, and taking the chance to pause here and breathe.
My cat’s about to jump up on the bed and possibly meow, which will be cute background noise. More cute than the train, which if you can hear in the background is a little loud.
[meow. laughter. meow.]
There’s my cat.
So, the idea of worrying is interesting, because after I posted last night about being sad on Father’s Day, I had a wonderful amount of people reach out to to me and say things like “I’m sorry I didn’t check up on you yesterday.” “I’m sending you love on this hard day.” “I’m so sorry you’re going through hard times right now" and
it made me feel so guilty initially to receive that love and care and affection,
because I realized that I worried people.
And that’s such an interesting feeling that keeps us hiding: the guilt of worrying people.
Because that guilt (that I worried people) is the same guilt that transforms into the sentence “I don’t want to be a burden."
And the feeling of not wanting to be a burden is what keeps us feeling alone from each other.
It’s what keeps us from reaching out in our darkest moments.
It’s what leads people to suicide, I think, partly, for some people:
I don’t want to be a burden.
I don’t want to worry people.
That was my reaction to these loving text messages that came through from people who care about me:
Guilt.
Shame for my own mental health.
Guilt over worrying people.
And partly, I think it’s understandable, because I know how much it hurts to be worried about somebody—and especially how much it hurts to lose somebody that you were worried about.
And so, worrying is a form of care. It’s a form of compassion.
I know everybody that is worried about me right now only wants me to feel better.
And some of that is love.
A lot of it is love, right?
”I want you to feel better, because I love you and I care about you, and I don’t want you to be in pain anymore.”
But I also think some of it is selfish—rightfully so, but selfish—desire to avoid potential grief.
People want me to feel better, so that they don’t have to go through the pain of losing me.
At least that’s a theory…
and I come to that theory, because that’s how I feel when I am worried about people in my life. When I’m worried about my mom, or I’m worried about my brother, or I’m worried about my friends, or my sister-in-law, or anybody else who's struggling.
I worry about them, and I want to help them. I want to help them be happy and avoid suffering, because I don’t know what I would do if I lost them.
I just think that’s interesting: that to be worried about another people—to care about another person—
such a complex soup of emotions.
(I use that metaphor a lot. We are all in this Human Soup together. We’re all in this Life Soup together. I’m in a Soup of Emotions. It just makes me smile.)
I was thinking about this today, because The Heart of the Buddha’s Teachings by Thich Nhat Hanh, and I got to this section on Right Speech. Right Speech is one of the, one of the, pieces of the Eightfold Path. The Noble Eightfold Path to Enlightenment: Right Speech, coming after Right Thinking and Right Mindfulness, and Right View.
But this idea of Right Speech, and it incudes writing.
So I want to read a part of this. I don’t know copyright laws well enough to know if this is allowed, but I hope it is, because this is what spurred my philosophizing on worry and compassion today.
[sigh]
So the idea of Right Speech is that we should only allow words to come out of our mouth that are going to do good, basically.
I will—I’m going to read you two parts.
First:
Aware of the suffering caused by unmindful speech and the inability to listen to others, I am committed to cultivating loving speech and deep listening in order to bring joy and happiness to others and relieve others of their suffering. Knowing that words can create happiness or suffering, I am determined to speak truthfully, with words that inspire self-confidence, joy, and hope. I will not spread news that I do not know to be certain and will not criticize or condemn things of which I am not sure. I will refrain from uttering words that can cause dividsion or discord or that can cause the family or the community you break. I am determined to make all efforts to reconcile and resolve all conflicts, however small. This is the Fourth Mindfullness Training and it offers a very good description of Right Speech
says Thich Nhat Hanh.
Later in the chapter, he says,
“writing is a very good practice. Writing is a practice of looking deeply.”
Writing a book or article can be done in the same way. Writing is a deep practice. Even before we begin writing, during whatever we are doing. Gardening or sweeping the floor, our book or essay is being written deep in our consciousness. To write a book, we must write with our whole life. Not just during the moments we are sitting at our desk. When writing a book or an article, we know that our words will affect many other people. We do not have the right just to express our own suffering, if it brings suffering to others.
We do not have the right just to express our own suffering if it brings suffering to others.
Many books, poems, and songs take away our faith in life. Young people today curl up in bed with their Walkman and listen to unwholesome music. Songs that water seeds of great sadness and agitation in them. When we practice Right View and Right Thinking, we will put all of our tapes and CDs that water only seeds of anguish into a box and not listen to them anymore. Filmmakers, musicians, and writers need to practice Right Speech to help our society move again in the direction of peace, joy, and faith in the future.
[sigh]
Ooof I am grateful to have read this passage today.
Because I have been writing about my suffering.
It’s been cathartic, it’s been wonderful.
It’s been terrible.
[laughter]
[sigh]
Ugh it’s been wonderful, in the sense that I am really proud of myself for committing to a project for 19 days, 20 days.
It’s been wonderful to feel like ideas and words and images that I have felt and sensed out in the universe for my entire life, now have a pathway out of me and into the rest of the world.
I feel like a conduit, instead of just a vessel.
I love being a vessel. Vessels are beautiful things. They’re great for holding water and flowers and fruits and vegetables and babies. [laughter]. A big enough vessel. A boat as a vessel.
But now I feel like a conduit.
The words are passing through me and going somewhere.
But this [above] passage [from The heart of Buddha’s Teaching], combined with the lovely messages from you wonderful people, have made me consider what it is that I want to be writing in this project.
What good do I want to do in the world?
Part of me thought, while starting this project:
I can give voice to my suffering, and in doing so, give voice to the voiceless.
Give voice to people who don’t have the words to express what they’re going through, but they can borrow mine.
[sigh]
There is beauty in that goal.
But I don’t want my suffering to cause the suffering of others,
which means, ultimately,
that the choice I need to make is to choose a path out of my own suffering.
And that is the subtitle of this blog: A Guide to Living for People who Sometimes Would Rather Die.
It used to be “Who Would Really Rather Die” but I tried to put a more positive spin on it: People only sometimes want to die.
[awkward laughter]
If you’re a person who wants to die all of the time, please call the Suicide Lifeline. They are really wonderful people. If you are a person who only wants to die some of the time, please call the Suicide Lifeline. They are wonderful people.
Anyway, I think what I’m trying to say is, life is hard [awkward laughter]
[sigh]
Life is hard, and then we die.
Life is suffering; however there is a pathway out of suffering.
And whether it is Buddhist or Christian or Muslim or Hindu or Nordic, Esoteric Feminism, Astrological, Divine Oneness—
there are clear choices that I know, deep into my cells, about aspects of my life which increase my health, my happiness, my peace, my joy—
and there are choices that increase my suffering, my depression, my anxiety, my suicidal ideation.
I want to commit to the things that bring me health and happiness and joy.
Not just for me, but for all of you people who worry about me.
Because I love you
as much as you love me.
And that is the beauty of shared care and compassion:
I want to take care of myself, because I know you love me, and I love you as well.
Therefore I don’t want to cause you suffering—To worry about me—and I don’t want you to suffer either.
This is all a pretty long-winded way of saying I didn’t drink anything yesterday and I didn’t drink anything today either; though I really, really wanted to.
And sobriety is something that is really hard for me to hold onto over the last several years of my life, but it is something that I know into my bones is a path that I need to continue walking down.
Also, exercise, meditation, fruits & vegetables [laughter], drinking water, seeing people that I love, having fun: all of these things are path of wellness and wellbeing also.
And I’m working on those. (More on that later.)
But for now, sobriety.
This blog and sobriety are my two foundational paving stones into the rest of my life.
It’s gonna be a good one.
That is all from me today.
I hope some of that made sense.
Really probably this post is mostly just to apologize for worrying any of you.
I am okay, even when I’m not okay:
Because I know that I am loved
and beloved
and I am not alone,
and I have a second chance on life, and I am not going to waste it.
Maybe I’ve been watching Manifest on Netflix too much. [laughter]
I’m just kidding.
We make jokes, cause I’m deeply uncomfortable.
I make jokes, cause I’m uncomfortable.
So.
[sigh]
I’m uncomfortable, because somehow this post in audio form feels even more vulnerable than what I’ve already said on this blog, and I somehow didn’t know that was possible.
Okay, that’s all from me. I’m wrapping up now.
Twenty-five minutes. Wow.
Podcast with Lara [laughing] Here it is.
Thank you for listening.
Thank you, thank you, thank you, for listening and for reading, and for your love and compassion.
I am so excited to see you tomorrow.
Goodnight. <3