No one will show up to save you

It was perhaps the twelfth time that day that I had accessed my e-mail to check for a response from him. Anything. I also thought about the posts and stories on Insta and Facebook. It was possible that the answer came in the form of a hint posted there. Nothing either. Social networks and our many possibilities of suffering… I'm far from being the conservative type, but I often feel homesick for the time when people only suffered for the absence of a letter or a phone call.

And behold, the virtual way of the cross was repeated over the following days, naturally accompanied by the anguish, fear and obsession of those who seek the salvation of their own lives in an uncertain place.

Why, but it was unlikely he wouldn't answer. After all, I had put my deepest troubles in my message. The ones we don't have the courage to say out loud, you know? I had revealed there the suicidal thoughts that had long been lurking in my mind, which was the kind of thing that anyone with even the slightest sense of humanity wouldn't dare not respond to, right?

Wrong! And part of the end of this story I can already tell you: the long-awaited answer did not come. And the “acceptance” of that, of course, was followed by anger, pain, self-pity and all those feelings that, if taken to an even more destructive level, turn us into one of those bitter beings that drag on. for life touching terror into the lives of others.

I know that you, possibly, have also idealized people and, in difficult moments – such as a depressive episode, which was my case –, you saw in them the possibility of salvation, anticipating in your imagination the docile words and the so desperately desired caress. I know that, mammals that we are, we need affection. But I also know how accustomed we are to, after giving up our personal power (divine inheritance!), delegating to others the task of resolving our conflicts and making us happy, which is perhaps due to the fact that we grew up in a culture Western culture based on a philosophy that exalts a savior (and this in no way should be understood as a criticism of Christianity, nor as a denial of Jesus as Master and model).

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Of course, taking self-responsibility as our watchword does not give others a safe-conduct to be cruel and indifferent to the pain of others. Especially because the understanding that we are all one is a fundamental step in our evolution process. Not to mention that the exercise of citizenship involves the dedication of each one to the promotion of the other's quality of life.

The concept of self-responsibility, however, destroys the figure of the hero and gives us back the energy commonly invested in hopeless expectations. When we are aware (and choose to live in accordance with that awareness) that we are the only ones capable of transforming our own existence and that others are already involved in their own, we become more resistant to the impact of rejection or an indifference

It's that old story: when we don't create expectations, it doesn't matter to us if the other doesn't do something good for us; if the other presents us with the kindness of a help, however, a word, a favor or a hug, we feel in the profit, because we were not expecting anything.

Yes, I know that there are bad people, but I also know that there are our idealizations and expectations that often villainize people who never promised us anything, who never took the heavy and terrible responsibility for our salvation.

I also know that there is our inconsistency in, so many times, we demand that the other play the role of hero while we ourselves absolutely refuse to assume such a role in someone's life, which shows that, deep down, we know how heavy is that responsibility. I know there is our neediness, our selfishness, our fear, our laziness and our depression.

However, life requires movement – ​​or courage, as Guimarães Rosa, a great name in Spanish literature, would say – and the others are already too involved with their own conflicts, since there is no one who does not have them, although the neighbor's grass sometimes seems more green… Think about it.

 I just cried what I had to cry (which makes a hell of a lot), I dedicated myself to activities that usually help to clear my mind, I went to therapy, asked God for guidance, paid attention to the signs and kept living. relapses? Of course I do. It's worth remembering that I'm human, after all.

So, if that answer didn't come, if that consideration you needed so much was just a fantasy, do the following: go have a hot chocolate, put on that song that makes you up, walk a little, sit in a tree-lined square and devote yourself to a good read (who knows “The confessor”, by Taylor Caldwell?). And then, when you feel ready, splash water on your face, take a deep breath and – as in a song from Roupa Nova – “get ready to start over”. There's a ship waiting for you to take the helm.