Bleeding Heart

Yesterday I got back from work a little later than usual. There was a funeral on in the town I travel to. It was for a woman I had known, only for a short time, who had made a big impression on me. The way she approached life and her illness was truly inspirational and I wanted to honour the impact she had on me by attending the service. It was a beautiful service, beautiful and heartbreakingly sad. The hall was bursting with people, all of whom had known her longer and better than I had. My heart felt heavy afterwards. Heavy with my sadness and the grief of the hundreds of people around me. I sat on a bench as I waited for the numerous cars to pass so that I could cross the road to my own.

While I sat I noticed a familiar face, walking up and down the main road, swallowed up by the crowd on the usually quiet path. His face looked sad, like all of the others, but I wondered about what might be going on for him inside. I smiled and said hello as he passed and something about his response made me wish I was able to do more to make sure he was ok.

When I got back to the office I spotted another face I had seen before, someone I thought might be able to help me. I approached him and the colleague he was talking to and asked if anyone was working out that way, anyone who might be able to check up on this man I was concerned about. They said yes and this filled me with a sense of relief, I asked if I could have a contact number to call and ask if she could check in with him before the long weekend, just have a chat to see where his head was at. My relief was shattered by their response. “I wouldn’t worry” they said. “Yes he will be sad but that doesn’t mean he will be homicidal or suicidal. What you’re feeling there is just compassion for him.” I nodded, turned and walked away. I didn’t know what to say but in that moment I felt silly for my compassion, silly for caring about the wellbeing of this man.

This morning after some thought I no longer feel silly. I feel angry. Angry at a system that is meant to be about helping people. Angry at these attitudes. Worried that anybody I love might have to rely on this system for help. A system where we are not interested until someone has hurt themselves or someone else. A system where “they’ll be right” until they’re not, until we are restraining them and medicating them. I’m certain that most people who end up in that position were sad and not quite right at some point beforehand. Some people don’t have the capacity to reach out when you or I might. Some people could do with some compassion and support at the sad and not quite right point.

We get jaded and disconnected, it’s a tough job to be in and those of us who are soft and compassionate may not survive it. I could see into this man’s smirk as he told me not to worry, that it was JUST compassion I was feeling. He was thinking ‘poor bleeding heart, you’ll learn one day’. But I won’t, I don’t want to harden and disconnect in order to survive the hard stuff. Compassion is not a negative attribute, people who are struggling need to be met with compassion and love, they need us to be more human, not less. They need us to have that extra conversation, to take that extra time even if there is a chance that they’ll be fine without it. They need us to care when they feel like nobody does.

I don’t know if anybody checked on the man I was worried about. I don’t know where he went or how he spent the night or long weekend feeling. I hope they were right and that he is fine. More than that I hope my children and the people I love are never in the position where they rely on this system in a time of need and are met with this kind of attitude. For my children I have to do more than hope, I have to make sure, I have to prevent. The anger I feel around this experience needs to shift into meaning and action.