Touchy subject?

I was running at lunch with some friends, all much younger than I when they started talking about a marine that committed suicide.  He was 25 years old.  Brought back memories of all the war stories I heard when I ran with an older group of gentlemen over 20 years ago.  In the 1980s, I heard many stories about "that damb war".  Between these runners, I heard more horror stories than I had seen in the movies.  One runner had a limp and about 25 percent of his left butt cheek blown away by an explosion "he will never forget." One had a missing lung from a bullet.  

I never lived those horrendous activities as I lived in an era where there was no war.  Although, through them, I still have some real impacting thoughts.  For a 21-year-old who grew up in rural North Dakota, these stories were like those things society packs into video games.  People lose sense of reality at times.  We read so much fiction that things that were repulsive thoughts in 1950 are commonplace today.

As the conversation went on, they started talking about suicide statistics.  Jan stated she read that in 50 years, the rate for 20 to 24-year-olds has doubled (I looked it up, 6.2 per 1,000 in 1950 to 12.1 per 1,000 in 2000).  Then she said it still does not come close to my (Londell's) age group.  We started to discuss why this is a fact.  That is when I talked more than the rest.  I explained how this has been a tough year for me.  I explained how, at 40, things change.  Reading glasses we made fun of were now needed, sleeping became more difficult, and so on…  As I spoke, it was rather depressing.  

The conversation turned to goals and objectives and the meaning of life. We discussed how our goals and objectives in life change. As kids, we have goals of playing with toys and friends. As teens, we have goals for our first love. As college students, we look for fame and fortune. As parents, we strive to raise decent human beings, and then… I had to think, then…

When parenting is gone, we lose purpose if we do not formulate new goals.  Without purpose, we lose hope; without hope, we lose desire.  Really was thought-provoking.  Made me think back to the time when I got divorced years ago.  I was a little depressed and sought help.  I wrote a story that I have come to appreciate. It describes strangely finding purpose.  I wanted to share it with those who read this blog...  The story goes:

I currently have this chair in my living room, and I hate it. It's ugly and big and takes up too much space. And every time I sit back and lean in it, it damages the wall behind it. I've wasted so much time, money, and energy looking for and buying chairs for that corner of my living room. I've bought ones that look good - but don't last, I've had sturdy ones that just don't look good with the style of my living room, I gotten them straight off the show-room floor - but they become outdated pretty quick. 

What I want is a comfortable chair that looks nice too. Something that adds to the decor of my living room. You know, the kind of chair that when you're having a shitty day, in the back of my mind, I know that my chair will be there when I get home, for me to lounge and relax in. Where I can throw my legs over the arm of it and read a good book or work for hours comfortably. Yet, it still looks good too, like when company comes over, I don't have to dress it up with a throw pillow or anything, it's fine the way it is. Also, it doesn't need constant maintenance, and there is no need for weekly polish or scotch guard treatments. But like I said, right now, I have this terrible chair in my living room that I need to get rid of this chair. 

But there's a problem. My son likes that chair; it has sentimental value to him. So I can't just take it to the dump. I'm going to have to store it in the shed or something so my son can play with it when he wants to. But it's cumbersome and complicated to move, and I still need to move it out of my living room. 

Then, the other day, I was at an antique store, not even looking for a chair, and I saw this one that I liked. I thought, damn, I'm not even looking for a chair right now. I am still determining where I'd put it. But I really like this chair. It has a unique look. It had a classic frame and was well-made. I even like the upholstery, and I would like to take it home and see how it looks in my living room. 

Then these two guys walk in work suits walk up to me and say, "Sorry sir, I hope you're not lookin' to buy this chair 'cause it's not for sale." They go on and tell me, "See the shop owner here? Well, he's a bit of a perfectionist, and we came here today to pick up this chair and take it to our warehouse so it can be polished and refinished." The guys go on, telling me how funny it is that the shop owner always does this and that usually what the customers like about the furniture are the flaws, you know, that used look, gives it character. And how often the items get all scratched up on the way back to the store anyway. The guys tell me they have that chair today, but if I am interested, I may want to check back when it's fixed up. 

But the storeowner has two other stores, so there's selling where this chair will end up. I laugh to myself. The guys then tell me that I look a little tired from shopping, and they still have some forms to fill out, so why don't I sit in that chair and try it out for a few minutes while they finish their paperwork? That sounds like a good idea, so I will sit in it. This chair is comfortable; I like it so far. 

Then I remembered it didn't matter because I still had that big, ugly chair in my living room. Even after I got it out, I still had to repair the damage to the wall behind it and paint where I'd cleaned up the wall. And well, this chair is here today. Remember, it's for sale anyway. 

I tell my therapist this, and she says, "How about not having a chair in your living room for now?". "Yeah, I agree". I think I will get some good artwork to hang on the wall for that corner of my living room for now." And" art is good. I really can sit on the floor and enjoy the art. Life can go on without a chair. However, there will be a chair that I will grow old in and, with some luck, die smiling in it.

End of story…

I did buy the art after writing the story.  Still have it on the wall.  It reminds me of those hard emotional times I had back then and the thought-provoking events in my life.  I am proud that suicide was not one of the thoughts, but I felt I had an understanding of what it is like to be lost.  I can not imagine the hell the war was for those running buddies of mine.  I often wonder if those runs and openly discussing those issues was the best therapy for them.  I know, when I dumped during my runs or got dumped on during the runs, I or someone else really felt better afterward!

It reminds me that we can never succeed dwelling on our failures if we do not look for new opportunities to grow, which requires the risk of failure.   Matthew Keith Groves states, "Winners lose much more often than losers.  So, if you keep losing but you're trying, keep it up!  You You'ret on track."

Ca "ry on!