Wednesday, 18 January 2017

I am a contradiction (or I am a video game reference, or maybe a Bon Jovi song)

As I started to write these first few words I'm reminded of a student I once had. He was top of the class, not because he was a particularly gifted student, but because he had memorised the script of all the Call of Duty games. He often told me: "The more things change, the more they stay the same". Pretty deep for a 14 year old, but like I said, it was totally lifted from Call of Duty.

So with that, it seems kinda fitting that by some sort of fluke that I'm writing something exactly six years since the last time I rambled. So many things have happened since I was here. I moved to China for six months that ended up being six years, I finally met the person I thought about in primary school (Yes, I was a hopeless romantic. I used to wonder, "I wonder what she's doing right now? Does she have blonde hair?"Turns out she was learning how to walk and most certainly doesn't have blonde hair), I'm stood on stages in front some pretty sizeable crowds, I've been crippled by food poisoning more times that I can possibly count, I've been in hospital, had to learn to walk again and lost my best friend to depression.

I think it's the last point that's brought me here today. I was looking into how to preserve his blog so we'll have something physical to remind us of how his wonderfully odd mind worked and found myself back here. See, lots have changed but my awful use of punctuation has stayed the same.

I think about him everyday and I'm not exaggerating. I think it's because I've had some rather vivid dreams of him and so I find myself in the shower, unpacking them and trying to inscribe them in my mind's eye so I won't forget him. I haven't had dreams like these since the mess of a situation that lead me to want to leave the UK in the first place. I feel rather humbled that I had these dreams, they've enabled me to express how to I feel and discuss his reasons and the fall out with him. Being on the other side of the world has kinda made grieving process rather fragmented. I've missed the conversations that I'm sure his friends and family have shared so I've been somewhat sheltered from it...Though at the same time, I would preferred to go through it all with everyone else. So yeah, me and him are slowly working through it in my dreams when he comes to visit me.

Part of the fall out of being so disconnected is that I could easily convince myself everything is how it was. If I think about him, I can still hear his voice, imagine his laugh and the time we spent in his lovely home with his beautiful family. I've done this a lot in the time that I've been here because that's how things were. The time difference, the distance, the restricted internet. I could easily convince myself it's alright, it's all fine.

I blame myself. His wife told me this is normal, but I do. I wonder if I hadn't stopped going to church, maybe if I had kept playing the role of the happy christian he wouldn't have lost hope. I remember him saying to me once that it was weird watching me, a christian he looked up to (I cringe writing that), walking away from it all. I actually found it very say when he told me he stopped going to church. I never wanted to be a distraction, I still don't. I might not go to church, pray or even call myself a christian anymore, but I would never discourage someone from it. I'm not one of those angry ex church types, more one of those slightly heart broken disappointed ones. (I find it interesting that I wrote that, did I pick up on the heart broken part of me because I'm writing about him or is it a church thing? This is part of the reason I got out, so much emotion and stress that just dragged me down). I blame myself too because he told me a various different occasions how much stress he was under. After this all, it's made me realise (again) how incredibly important it is that The Samaritans ask every caller "Are you feeling suicidal?" maybe if I'd remembered my training I would have asked him and possibly helped avoid this whole thing. I blame myself because I would often, as is the case here in china, bring up the filthy topic of money, wages and how great life is. I'm not sure were this all came from, but it's a frequent topic among expats here. I find myself biting my tongue now whenever the topic comes up now. I would hate to think anything that I said would cause anyone to have a lower opinion of their own self worth.

I imagine that if he was reading this now, he would point out that it was his choice and no one forced him.

But that still doesn't bring much comfort. 

But then I think if I'm placing blame at my feet, if that really what I want? It seems weird that I'm almost building up a case for his wife. Is it really my goal that she would one day turn around and say "Yes, you're right, I've thought about it and it is actually all your fault." Apart from the actual pain of losing him, I can't imagine anything worse. Maybe blaming myself is part of the process of coming to terms with the fact he made his choice independently. I think I'll ask him the next time I see him in my dreams.

1 comment:

sparkles said...

love you