Sadness can mean lots of things to lots of people, and for many, it is perceived as a negative emotion – something to push down, get rid of and replace with joy.
Once upon a time, I was one of those people who shamed myself and inadvertently, others when this emotion showed up. It was a learned behavior that stemmed from parents, teachers, neighbors and friends who experienced the same conditioning I did, which was to wipe the tears away.
I think differently now, and I think many people do, too.
And now I’m going to get vulnerable with you for a second because I think we as people often learn best from those who get off of their high horses and stand in the uneven, clotted dirt with us.
18 years ago, I lost my older sister to suicide.
It was a time when I didn’t know much about what could happen when people experience sadness that they remedy by making themselves disappear. I didn’t know what to do when my sister came to me with deep sadness. I didn’t know how to sit with her in it because it was uncomfortable.
Sadness is uncomfortable.
I looked for reasons why she was sad because from a “fix-it” perspective, if I could just get to the root cause, maybe I could help her be happy.
But I didn’t know the root cause, and I’m not sure she did either. Because roots are complex, intertwined and far-reaching.
Sitting in sadness with someone is more than uncomfortable; it’s frustrating.
Trying to get someone who is really sad to be happy is often a fruitless effort that leaves the person trying exhausted and often hopeless themselves. And it isn’t that the one experiencing sadness doesn’t want joy, because they do.
The truth is, happiness isn’t something easily experienced when the world is dark. Because when the world is dark, even the brightest things are covered in shadows.
And now I’m going to get vulnerable with you again because for years, I lacked empathy.
After my sister died, all I could see was my own pain that was caused by her choice to leave. For years, I sympathized with survivors of suicide loss, focusing my efforts on the hurt and grief I experienced. And while my efforts weren’t bad, they lacked empathy for those who felt like life was no longer worth living.
I’m sad to say that it took my own deep bout with depression to realize what it truly meant to be sad. It took my own dark night of the soul to understand what I needed most during my darkest days.
I didn’t need flowers or “I love you’s.” I didn’t need “It’s going to get better,” or “cheer up,” “life is good” or “be of good cheer.”
And I certainly didn’t need someone else making my sadness about them.
What I needed was someone to sit with me in the dark. What I needed was someone to say, “What you’re experiencing is really hard, and you have every right to be sad.”
What I needed was to be sad.
I needed to grieve.
I needed to cry.
I needed to let my body feel depressed in order to have the deep rest I needed to heal.
From one sad person to another, I give you permission to be sad.
And from someone who needed professional help, to another who might need the same, please reach out to someone trained to sit with you in those dark times. Urgent help can be reached by dialing/texting 988 for the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline.
Sadness is not a negative emotion; it is your body seeking deep rest. So, stay a while and let yourself rest.
