A million broken people.

"And then I felt sad because I realized that once people are broken in certain ways, they can't ever be fixed, and this is something nobody ever tells you when you are young and it never fails to surprise you as you grow older as you see the people in your life break one by one. You wonder when you turn is going to be, or if it's already happened."
~Douglas Coupland, Life After God

This quote really speaks to me for some reason. It's true on so many levels. Certain things happen to people in their lives--things they will never forget (except if they develop Alzheimer's, for that they are lucky).

 

Even as I am writing this, there are so many things I want to write, to say, to scream at whoever is reading these words. I want to be able to tell everyone it’s going to be okay. To tell them they aren’t failures. That they will soon all be happy one day. That everything is going to be alright.

But I don’t know this for sure. I can’t guarantee a stranger’s happiness. Or even a friend’s. I’m scared because I’m afraid I’ve already been broken. That no one will ever be able to bring me back. I’ve already fallen into that well in the backyard and no clawing my way to the top is going to help. I wish to some God or distant being that I would have been warned of everything that would happen. Why didn’t anyone warn any of us? Maybe then we could have made different choices. But I guess that wouldn’t be Life, would it?

I hate to sound like I’m some angsty writer sitting in her basement hating the world and everyone in it, but isn’t it the truth? You can’t sit there in your chair or on your floor or on your bed doing whatever you’re doing and tell me I’m lying. Because all of you know deep down that there is someone you know that just lost it. Just gave up on everything because they felt trapped and honestly couldn’t trust a soul around them. You felt bad for them, pitied them and couldn’t imagine yourself being in their place. You swore to yourself, “Oh that won’t be me, that will never be me, no way.”

And then it happens. It could start slowly, hell, you won’t even notice that it’s already planted a seed in your mind and only certain events, words, and people can cause it to cultivate and grow.

I call it the long death. Some call it depression. Others call it “insert a mental illness here”.

But how do you grasp something that does not kill you today or tomorrow but slowly from the inside over the course of 5, 10, 20 years? 

Don’t get me wrong. We are all loved in some way, shape, or form. But when this seed in your head becomes overgrown, it blocks out all the people who love you. People you don’t even know that love you. How the hell are you supposed to trim this overgrown thing in your mind? So you can see things a bit clearer?

I’ll get back to you on that.