Like any person you might know, I’ve been hurt by other people. Particularly memorable experiences get thrown into my baggage, to be carried until some unforeseen moment. Now, having collected enough kick knacks in past relationships, unsure what to do with them, I have started a lot of my recent new encounters by boldly opening up the bag and showing off a particular piece to gauge reactions. At times I just can’t help it—I forget to distill my past experiences and express only the more palatable ones. It’s not the best gauge of character for the person I meet, and can be rather unfair from my end to do so. Despite all of that, if I don’t see clues of “fight or flight” kicking in, sometimes I can make a new friend because a very special type of connection is forged.
The contents of my baggage are often tied to my mental illness in one way or another. Likely, because our empathy is best engaged whenever we recognize an emotion we ourselves have gone through, I have found that those who carry similar pieces, or symptoms, are always the kinder, and more forgiving. They’ve been more patient when I have to explain my irrational behavior and less judgmental about the life choices I have to make to avoid triggers or something similar. Overall, they’re just incredible people who make me feel like I belong.
They’re Giving People to A Fault
As with any long-term condition, although I would hope it doesn’t define us, mental illness affects most aspects of life. It’s no small point to note that people who have lived experience with depression, for example, are more likely treat my knick-knacks gently, almost as if they were their own. So many fellow depression sufferers are the kind of people who, although depressed themselves, carry an antiseptic and bandages in case their friend, whom they’ve seen self-harm before, relapses. They are the kind of person who will reach out and listen to you discuss your tough day although they might not be having the best one either.
It’s no coincidence either that I am often offered love and care with no expectation of a return. I know it’s in part because helping others has been proven to help ourselves, but it’s also because we know how it feels to live with something outwardly inexplicable and invisible.