We see it every day.
We see it, with our privilege and happy pills, and we judge.
We think, "thank God it's not me; that would never happen to my child; i'm better than that"
Well it's time someone calls bullshit.
What about the soccer mom who started drinking a little too much wine when her marriage began to fall apart? Two glasses of wine turned into three, turned into four. Twice a week with the girls turned into every night as she sits alone in her too big house wondering what happened to her life.
What about that same soccer mom - now she's divorced. The wine isn't cutting it anymore. Her phone blowing up every night with a bunch of handsome men she calls "friends", each one just like the other, each one making her feel better a couple hours at a time, making her feel something besides the endless numbness that she has become.
She wakes up with the same shame every time. But now it's too late; the shame and guilt is just as miserable. Those few hours of distraction become priceless, become necessary, regardless of how she feels afterwards. Because when you feel that low, you'll take any opportunity you get to get picked up.
Now let's talk about her ex-husband. Wasn't happy in his marriage, couldn't accept how many mistakes he's made in his life, all those years of doing the right thing and hard work, now what does he have to show for it? He's never spent time alone before, so instead of going back to his one bedroom apartment as a 45 year old single man, he stays in his office. Later, later, later. 80 hours a week, one too many cups of coffee, one too many projects on his calendar. Anything to distract him. Anything to keep him out of his own head.
Both of them eventually end up alone, with themselves, for a minute or two. It's inevitable. The thoughts come trickling back in. The gut wrenching sadness. The unbearable idea of not being good enough. The overwhelming lack of control of their own emotions.
Now you tell me how that's different from the ones with the needles in their arms, the ones who take a pill when they really aren't in pain, the ones who will try just about anything to make the shit stop.
Whether your problem is feeling too much or too little, the misery never goes away.
And it happens to the best of us. Whether we like it or not.
Some of us are just better at hiding it than others.