can anyone Hear Me?

Old pain swirled up within me upon the news of Robin Williams death. Learning about his depression and suicide swiftly transported me back to my former dark times. The time when I left home to study abroad at the tender age of fifteen, divorce, heartbreaks and other life events that put me in the throes of depression. And suicidal thoughts.

I fail to recognize myself while perusing social media posts from these painful years. I see someone happy and living life to the fullest. But outside those fleeting moments “worthy” of posting on social media, on the inside, there was deep pain and anguish. Like fish out of water.

On the surface you look so normal and put together. Seemingly you have it all. Friends, family and colleagues even comment as such. But there are two sides to this coin. We show what we want to show. And on the receiving end, we see what we want to see. In the end, what you see is not what is.

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Robin Williams

When was the last time you showed up as your true self or in your true state of heart and mind? On the other hand, when did you ask someone, “How are you really feeling?” or “Are you truly happy?” And when was the last time you truly listened to someone with your heart?

When I found myself in these deep dark times, I felt like I was isolated on an island. And when I made the tough choice to eventually confide in someone, it quickly proved to be a mistake. They never fully listened, hurled judgments, made accusations, used what you shared with them as weapons against you, or even, just walked away. And you found yourself back on that island, isolated.

Only this time, flailing even more desperately for oxygen.

When people commit suicide, society’s commentary is painfully perplexing. And heartbreaking. They seem perplexed as to why someone would take their own life. What would drive them to do so? Why didn’t they speak up? Why didn’t they say something? They convince themselves that if only they had reached out, they could have and would have helped them.

But perhaps they did.

Perhaps they did reach out! And perhaps, no one listened.

THE DAY AFTER

It’s easy to say how much we loved and cared for someone after they’re gone. If only they knew! But what did we do and say while they were alive?

If we pause and reflect within, with brutal honesty, we may discover some piercing truths. We may discover that when they were alive, perhaps we were not as present for them. We were not really listening. We didn’t support them. We were not kind. We did not have, or rather, we did not make time for them.

On the more extreme side, we knock others down at every turn. We tear them apart, almost with a competitive spirit. We criticize, constantly. We hurt others routinely and with causal ease. We cast judgments to the highest order. We spew hatred with righteous passion and intensity.

We bestow immense pain upon others. Sometimes, it’s insurmountable. We make living so unbearable that they feel it’s better not be alive. And upon news of their suicide, we seem shocked.

Then, we accuse them of being selfish. And therein lies an even greater tragedy.

Even after their death, we fail to hear their cries. Even after their death, we fall short and do the only thing we know best — judge. We judge their final act.

Now that’s comedic, no pun intended.

 .  .  .

When in the dark abyss, you find yourself screaming at the top of your lungs on the inside!!! And yet, no one in this entire world seem to hear you. Or want to hear you.

We don’t listen with our hearts.

RESOURCES

Dr. Jen Ashton on healing herself and her family after her ex-husband’s suicide
Suicide Prevention 

Published: August 12, 2014

Twizted Myrtle is sustained by readers like you. As a solo creator, crafting each piece demands significant time, money and resources. Your ongoing support, big or small, makes a real difference. If the content here enriches your life in any way, please consider becoming an ally as a sustaining patron.

Twizted Myrtle is sustained by readers like you. As a solo creator, crafting each piece demands significant time, money and resources. Your ongoing support, big or small, makes a real difference. If the content here enriches your life in any way, please consider becoming an ally as a sustaining patron.

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From Global Roots to Unearthed Truths

Asha was born in India, raised in Oman, and lived in London before settling in the U.S. Her multi-continent, multi-cultural, global experience was a clear predecessor that fed her insatiable curiosity – and the inspiration for her defining Twizted voice.

As a rare breed, she’s truly mastered the art of metamorphosis in body, mind and soul. In her first adult incarnation she graduated Magna Cum Laude from ASU and pursued a vibrant career in the hospitality industry. Then, she grew new wings. Ever intrepid and intrigued by the unknown, she launched and helped grow a thriving e-Commerce technology company with her business partner, proving herself as an entrepreneur and demonstrating both the skills and resolve required of a woman intent on succeeding in a male-dominated industry.

In 2014, she boldly stepped into uncharted territories again, starting a new venture, Twizted Myrtle, in pursuit of her undeniable thirst to confront and create consequential social change. Few understood why she would leave behind a burgeoning e-Commerce business that served marquee clients like Amazon, Samsonite, Viacom, Pokémon, Red Bull, Taylor Swift and other household names – all during the pinnacle of a successful career.

The impetus for leaving the traditional business world for a less conventional path was intensely personal; a deafening voice and inimitable force inside her told Asha that she needed to contribute to the world in a very personal and life-changing way. Asha found herself in the throes of depression and new depths of loneliness. She was acutely aware her “success” was empty. Like many, she had lost her soul in the daily grind of chasing unhappiness.

Ironically, during this time, her depression revealed spiritual clarity; it connected her to the struggles of others who face the same suffocating walls of relenting darkness. Photography became a sacred respite that unleashed a strident voice; like a caged tiger set free, she could never again return to the confined existence dictated by society.

Twizted Myrtle became the multi-pronged platform to confront social issues that we’ve been plagued with for centuries. To break free from these vicious circles, she challenges what we accept, without question, as “wisdom,” and our conventional way of thinking through artistic means – provocative writings, thought-jarring podcasts and captivating photography.

Bringing a refreshing curiosity with the unique empathy of a true global citizen, she speaks with an open mind and unfiltered honesty on a host of issues where most would fear to tread. Her work compels us to see and think differently to help unlock our mindsets from self-imposed limitations. In doing so, she seeks to help people break free from the invisible chains that enslave us as oblivious prisoners.