Mental Self Check

What do you think of when you think of a “dangerous” person? Is it a guy with a gun walking into a school? Is it a terrorist bent on destruction? There are many images your mind can conjure up, but I doubt they match my version of a dangerous person.

A dangerous person, in my mind, is someone you rarely think about. It’s the person who seems like they have it all together. They have a job, pay their bills, and when you hang out with them, you would never think anything is wrong.

This person is dangerous because they think their pain is radioactive and that the only way to shield those they love is with a lead curtain of silence. They think their pain is too much, too jagged, too awful for anyone else to see. So they try to wall it off, build a castle around it in their mind, and hope that the pain will somehow dissipate on its own.

These were my thoughts. I didn’t think anyone could come near me. So I put on a strong face, laughed when it hurt, and hoped no one would see through the cracks in my mask. But something happened recently that forced me to reach out. And that was when I discovered the truth in my lies.

The truth is that I am resilient. The lie was that I thought that was enough. I thought if I simply swallowed it all and kept going, I could pretend I wasn’t struggling. What I learned recently is that no one is that strong. Everyone needs other people. I cannot live on an island anymore. And as scary as it will be to let other people in, I know that is the only way.

The “dangerous” person is dangerous to themselves. Eventually, their strength can fade. Their will could break. And because of their isolation, there will not be anyone there to help them pick up the pieces. I know because I lived this.

But I was lucky. I had family and friends who helped me see through the fog—people I could lean on when I was tapped out.

What is the answer? What is the antidote for the “dangerous” person? For me, it was a mountain of pain, but I don’t think that is necessary. I believe knowing that they are not alone and that others feel this way could help. But at the end of the day, they must decide to open up. And that is a hard thing to do because they must become vulnerable, which can feel like weakness at first. But it was in my weakness that I found my greatest source of strength: the love other people have for me.