mapping sadness

February 21, 2018

by

ๆ‚ฒใ—ใฟใ‚’็Ÿฅใ‚‹

(byย Zorro Gris)

Hi everybody, this is Eli.

ใฟใชใ•ใ‚“ใ“ใ‚“ใซใกใฏ๏ผใ‚จใƒชใƒผใงใ™ใ€‚

If you have been very sad recently, this post might be slightly triggering. Proceed with caution.

ๆœ€่ฟ‘ๆ‚ฒใ—ใ„ๆ€ใ„ใ‚’ใ—ใŸไบบใฏใ€ใ“ใฎๆŠ•็จฟใ‚’่ชญใ‚“ใงใคใ‚‰ใ„ๆ€ใ„ใ‚’ใ™ใ‚‹ใ‹ใ‚‚ใ—ใ‚Œใชใ„ใ€‚ๆณจๆ„ใ—ใฆ่ชญใ‚“ใงใใ ใ•ใ„ใ€‚

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I have been back in Italy for three months now. Coming back was no easy task โ€“ I went back to my hometown where I have barely any connection, and all my Italian friends are in a city three hours from here. Not only that, I have had a very busy period in which I was alone for most of the time. Needless to say, it wasnโ€™t the best position to be in for someone who has been in depressive states before.

ใ‚คใ‚ฟใƒชใ‚ขใซๅธฐใฃใฆ3ใ‹ๆœˆใ ใ€‚ๆฏๅ›ฝใซๆˆปใ‚‹ใฎใฏๆฑบใ—ใฆ็ฐกๅ˜ใชใ“ใจใงใฏใชใ‹ใฃใŸใ€‚็”Ÿใพใ‚Œ่‚ฒใฃใŸใƒŸใƒฉใƒŽใงใฏ็Ÿฅใ‚Šๅˆใ„ๅฐ‘ใชใ„ใ—ใ€ใ‚คใ‚ฟใƒชใ‚ขไบบใฎๅ‹้”ใŒใฟใ‚“ใช้ ใไฝใ‚“ใงใ‚‹ใฎใ€‚ใใ‚Œใซใ‚‚ใพใ—ใฆใ€ๅฟ™ใ—ใใฆใ€ไธ€ไบบใงใ„ใ‚‹ใ“ใจใŒๅคšใ„ใ€‚ใ†ใค็—…็Šถๆ…‹ใซใ„ใŸ็งใซใจใฃใฆใฏใ€ๆœ€้ฉใฎ็’ฐๅขƒใงใฏใชใ‹ใฃใŸใฎใ‹ใ‚‚ใ€‚๏ผˆ็ฌ‘๏ผ‰

Some days getting out of bed seemed an impossible task. When you donโ€™t have to go to university or to work, a second can feel endless (not in a good way). All I had to do was to write and read, and as nice as that might sound it was becoming a nightmare for me since I had nothing else to look forward to.

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ๆœ่ตทใใ‚‹ใฎใŒๆœ€ๅคงใซ้›ฃใ—ใๆ„Ÿใ˜ใŸๆ—ฅใ‚‚ใ‚ใฃใŸใ€‚ๅคงๅญฆใซ่กŒใใ“ใจใ‚‚ใ€ใƒใ‚คใƒˆใ‚‚ใชใ‹ใฃใŸใ‹ใ‚‰ใ€ไธ€็ง’ใฏๆฐธ้ ใซๆ„Ÿใ˜ใ‚‹ใ€‚ๆ™‚้–“ใŒ้€ฒใพใชใ„ใ—ใ€ใใ‚ŒใŒใ„ใ„ใ“ใจใงใฏใชใ„ใ€‚ๆœฌใ‚’่ชญใ‚“ใงใ€่ซ–ๆ–‡ใ‚’ๆ›ธใ‹ใชใ‘ใ‚Œใฐใชใ‚‰ใชใ‹ใฃใŸ็งใฏใปใ‹ใซๆฅฝใ—ใฟใซใ™ใ‚‹ใ“ใจใŒใชใใ€ๆฏŽๆ—ฅใŒๆ‚ชๅคขใฎใ‚ˆใ†ใ ใฃใŸใ€‚

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Moreover, I was doing a very unhealthy thing โ€“ I kept blaming myself for being sad. I kept thinking that it was crazy to be this sad when I was living again with my beloved family after 5 years of living apart. They were showering me with love. Something must have been wrong with me.

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ใ—ใ‹ใ‚‚็งใฏใ€่‡ชๅˆ†ใฎๆ‚ฒใ—ใ•ใ‚’ๅฆๅฎšใ—ใฆใŸใ€‚๏ผ•ๅนด้–“้›ขใ‚ŒใฆใŸๅฎถๆ—ใจใ‚„ใฃใจไธ€็ท’ใซ้Žใ”ใ›ใ‚‹ๆ™‚ๆœŸใชใฎใซใ€ใ“ใ‚“ใชใซๆ‚ฒใ—ใใชใ‚‹ใฎใฏใ‚ใ‚Šใˆใชใ„ใฃใฆๆ€ใฃใฆใ€่‡ชๅˆ†ใ‚’่ฒฌใ‚ใฆใ„ใŸใ€‚ๅฎถๆ—ใŒ็งใฎใ“ใจใŒๅคงๅฅฝใใชใฎใซใ€ๅฌ‰ใ—ใใชใ‚Œใชใ„่‡ชๅˆ†ใŒใŠใ‹ใ—ใ„ใฃใฆๆ€ใฃใฆใ—ใพใฃใŸใ€‚

With time I realized that embracing my sadness made me feel better. Maybe it might be rare to feel sadness as intensely as I do, but dark periods are not uncommon at all, and thinking of them as something normal that happens made everything seem lighter. Talking with friends and family helped me in understanding this.

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ๅ‹้”ใ‚„ๅฎถๆ—ใฎใŠใ‹ใ’ใงๆ™‚้–“ใŒ็ตŒใคใซใคใ‚Œใ€ๆ‚ฒใ—ใฟใ‚’ๅ—ใ‘ๅ…ฅใ‚Œใ‚‹ใ“ใจใงใ€ๆฐ—ๅˆ†ใ‚‚่‰ฏใใชใ‚‹ใ“ใจใซๆฐ—ใฅใ„ใŸใ€‚็งใฟใŸใ„ใซใ™ใฃใ”ใๆ‚ฒใ—ใใชใ‚‹ใฎใฏ็ใ—ใ„ใ“ใจใ‹ใ‚‚ใ—ใ‚Œใชใ„ใ‘ใฉใ€่ชฐใซใ ใฃใฆๆš—ใ„ๆ™‚ๆœŸใŒใ‚ใ‚‹ใ“ใจใซๆฐ—ใŒใคใใ€ใ“ใ†ใ„ใ†็ตŒ้จ“ใ‚’ใ™ใ‚‹ใฎใ‚‚ๆ™ฎ้€šใชใฎใ‹ใ‚‚ใฃใฆๆ€ใฃใŸใ‚‰ใ€ๅ…จใฆใŒ่ปฝใ่ฆ‹ใˆใŸใ€‚

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Hearing the stories of the people around me opened my eyes to the fact that pain and hardship are a constant in everybodyโ€™s life. This might look like an ugly truth, but there is also something beautiful in it โ€“ pain can sometimes function as a bridge between people. Many have been by my side embracing my sadness and slowly dragging me out of it, and likewise I have been listening more closely to the tears of the people around me.

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ๅ‘จใ‚Šใฎไบบใฎ่ฉฑใ‚’่žใ„ใฆใ€ๆ„Ÿๆƒ…ใฎ่‘›่—คใ‚’็ตŒ้จ“ใ™ใ‚‹ใฎใฏ็”Ÿใใฆใ‚Šใ‚ƒใ‚ใ‚‹ใ“ใจใ ใจใ„ใ†ใ“ใจใซ็›ฎ่ฆšใ‚ใŸใ€‚ๅฌ‰ใ—ใใชใ„ใ“ใจใซ่ฆ‹ใˆใ‚‹ใ‹ใ‚‚ใ—ใ‚Œใชใ„ใ‘ใฉใ€็ตถๆœ›ใ™ใ‚‹ใ‚ˆใ†ใชใ“ใจใงใ‚‚ใชใ„ใจๆ€ใ†ใ€‚๏ผˆ็ฌ‘๏ผ‰ใชใœใชใ‚‰ใ€ๆ‚ฒใ—ใฟใ‚’ๅ…ฑๆœ‰ใ™ใ‚‹ใ“ใจใงใ€ไบบใจใฎ็ต†ใŒๆทฑใใชใ‚‹ใ“ใจใ‚‚ใ‚ใ‚‹ใ‹ใ‚‰ใ ใ€‚็งใฎๅ‘จใ‚Šใซใ€็งใฎๆ‚ฒใ—ใ•ใ‚’ๅ—ใ‘ๅ…ฅใ‚ŒใฆๅŠฉใ‘ใฆใใ‚ŒใŸไบบใŒใŸใใ•ใ‚“ใ„ใŸใ—ใ€็งใ‚‚ๆฉใ‚’่ฟ”ใ—ใŸใใฆๅฝผใ‚‰ๅฝผๅฅณใ‚‰ใฎๆ‚ฉใฟใซ่€ณใ‚’ๅ‚พใ‘ใ‚‹ใ‚ˆใ†ใซใชใฃใŸใ€‚

Mapping the sadness around me has got me thinking of how all these distressing feelings are deeply human. To me, darkness is much easier to accept in the people around me than in myself โ€“ maybe thatโ€™s why listening to other peopleโ€™s difficulties is so strangely comforting. It makes me realize that if I have no problem loving my friends and accepting their darkness maybe my own pain is acceptable, too. Maybe I donโ€™t have to repress it as if it were something monstrous.

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ๅ‘จใ‚Šใฎไบบใฎๆ„Ÿใ˜ใฆใ„ใ‚‹ๆ‚ฒใ—ใฟใ‚’็Ÿฅใ‚‹ใ“ใจใงใ€ใ“ใฎๆ„Ÿๆƒ…ใŒใจใฆใ‚‚ไบบ้–“็š„ใ ใจ็†่งฃใ—ใŸใ€‚็งใซใจใฃใฆใฏไป–ไบบใฎๆš—ใ„้ƒจๅˆ†ใŒใ€่‡ชๅˆ†ใฎใ‚ˆใ‚Šๅ—ใ‘ๅ…ฅใ‚Œใ‚„ใ™ใ„ใฎใงใ€ๅ‹้”ใฎๆ‚ฉใฟใ‚’่žใ„ใฆ่‡ชๅˆ†ใฎๆ„Ÿๆƒ…ใ‚’ๅ—ใ‘ๅ…ฅใ‚Œใ‚‹ใ“ใจใŒใงใใŸใฎใ‹ใ‚‚ใ€‚ใ„ใพๆ„Ÿใ˜ใฆใ„ใ‚‹ใ“ใฎๆฐ—ๆŒใกใฏใ€ใใ“ใพใงๆใ‚ใ—ใใฏใชใ„ใ‹ใ‚‚ใ€‚

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