When People Who Should Know You, Don’t


Four years ago I wrote a post about how I felt about suicide here and recently I’ve had to re-evaluate my thoughts on suicide in general.

When I wrote that post I was high on the anger that devastation leaves behind and I’m not sure I entirely subscribe to that thought anymore.

I do still believe suicide leaves those behind damaged in ways that can never really heal but there’s some kind of desolation in choosing the nothingness of death to the misery of life that should not be snubbed to oblivion.

When I heard that Chester Bennington died I was so incredibly sad I actually cried,on my way to work, with my poor husband not knowing whether I should just go home and deal with my feels first before facing the world or stopping in traffic to let me sob it out. I hadn’t listened to Linkin Park in a hot minute but I remembered when I felt I needed to escape from my own demons with their music. I texted a friend and told her that I was feeling really down by it and there’s a tattoo I’ve been putting off getting because… Who knows? Reasons, anyway, I told this friend I want to get my tattoo and somehow she read ‘on my forehead’ and not ‘on my forearm’ for this tattoo but didn’t express concern and that struck me as odd, very odd.

Here’s the thing, I’m not generally an ‘exhibistionist’. I can’t even commit to colouring my own hair and this friend has known me for something like ten years but somehow didn’t find it odd that I was planning on getting a forehead tattoo (in her mind). I don’t wear heels too often coz I think it causes too much sway in my hips (which on their own attract attention and I don’t want to deal with consequences of the extra motion) but somehow I will get a forehead tattoo? In case I’m missing the point here, I don’t generally do attention but a forehead tattoo is on my bucket list?

In her defence we haven’t seen each other in years and keep in touch online but this is someone I would send messages to about my fear of sexy heel purchases and I believe conservative is one of the words she would use to describe me but somehow forehead tattoo, yup, fits in your narrative and nothing to be concerned about even though we started off talking about suicide.

This isn’t an attack on her but my own evaluation of this interaction, certain things are more important to me than they are to her and vice versa.

The reason I mention this is because we don’t always know when we have ignored what could be a cry for help/attention or just plain company. After this interaction I was torn between feeling I was selfish and feeling that she didn’t know me enough to know that I was exhibiting a trait that should be concerning and also why I was spending so much time obsessing over it.

Here’s the thing, at the end of the day we don’t know how our interactions affect other people or worse, what that interaction is adding onto because no one knows your life. I was fortunate to have other people to talk to and they helped me sort out ‘my feels’ but a lot of people don’t have alternative people and these bruises can add up but you find some way to distract yourself and it feels like a kind of outlet but then you get a few more scrapes and the injuries are deeper because those people should know better.

My takeaway is this, try and actually listen to people you are conversing with. I’m trying to do it myself because sometimes I’m more focused on what my response should be rather than what I am actually hearing.

Doesn’t mean you have to over analyse everything, sometimes you are better off breaking up with people but we all need atleast one person that puts a salve on those wounds when the world Knicks us and when we can’t those cuts get infected to a point where we are trying help.

Be present to the people you actively choose to spend your time on otherwise, what’s the point really?

I’m still formulating an update to the suicide post but I don’t have the words yet.

Let me know if you’ve been baffled by the ignorance of people who should know you better?


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