Behind brick walls - Yet another analogy from me!

If you’ve been keeping up with this blog, you are well aware that I am a little analogy crazy and use them to try to get ideas across and help people relate to depression, anxiety, mental illness and other areas of my life. And it has been a while… so here goes!

I’m not sure if I am the only one who does this, but I am often driving down the road and I will see buildings and imagine what is going on inside of them. Passing a hospital I think of the fact that the outside of the building is so unassuming and static that it’s easy not to consider the lives being saved or struggles being faced by patients, nurses, doctors, and family members inside. The same can go for passing a school building, orthodontist office, etc. In a different way as you travel down a busy road you may be driving past a body waxing salon or porn shop or a variety of other interesting places where people are experiencing many different types of pain or pleasure - or both (I’m not going to go into this further - this is not that kind of blog). And although these thoughts have hit me here and there, today something clicked.

As I was driving to dinner, with a beautiful blue sky and sunshine filtering through the clouds, I passed by a mental institution that is close to my home. It is one that, thank goodness, I have not visited, but I know many people who have - and not a one of them (patients or professionals) have good things to say about it. And as I was traveling down the road and caught a glimpse of the sign announcing this hospital I realized how calm and serene the setting seemed. And yet I know that inside there are people struggling. At the lowest points in their lives. Beyond what most people can imagine.

And that’s when it all came together. Each of us is a building with walls. Some of us have windows. Most people have doors. And the rest of the world driving by has no idea what is going on inside of us.  A tragedy (whether small or large) is like a storm or raincloud over some of us, but when it is beautiful out it is often hard to think that sad or trying things are going on inside.

Some people are warm, comfy, welcoming homes. Others emotionally cheap, maybe superficial - think Dollar Tree or Walmart. Some of my favorite people are like Nordstrom - they have quality and substance and high standards.  Others are like universities with lots of knowledge and mental strengths. I could go on and on with this line of analogies; however, I’ll spare you all and it is midnight. And then there are those of us who can be any one of these and have struggles from time to time when something happens or someone enters our minds and wreaks havoc.

Walking in my neighborhood I don’t know in which houses there is abuse, be it emotional, physical, or otherwise. They all look the same on the outside. Mental illness, especially when concealed is a lot like this.  When it is dark outside and a light is on, someone might get a glimpse. Close friends, family and professionals are sometimes invited inside to get a closer look and begin to understand or assist.

Don't even want to begin to think what goes on in the buildings on the Vegas Strip
(I'm much too prudish for that)

Why am I sharing this one - other than exposing my overactive imagination or my “Damn Empathy” (planning to trademark this term with my friend John)? Because my hope is that someone who reads this will think twice when “driving past” or meeting/interacting with people in their lives - especially those struggling.