“I’m like a fucking lighthouse keeper. Out here on my own…keeping this flame burning. Of course, when anyone sees a lighthouse, they steer clear, don’t they?”
I am a lighthouse keeper. Remembrance is good. A death grip on the past is not.
I may have put most of the pictures away, but I’ve kept the invisible flame of remembrance fully lit in the front of my mind. But is the flame really that invisible? Surely other people can see it, feel it–see the light that signals “stay away”, “danger”, “healing in process”. Or more appropriately, “healing in recess”.
I used to think I was somehow tainted, the label of “suicide survivor” written across my forehead. I imagined that even complete strangers could see it. Whispers of “what is wrong with her?” “Oh did you know her boyfriend didn’t die from an illness or a car accident – he died from, shhh, suicide.” Who wants to get near the jagged rocks of all that pain?
All this of course was only in my own head. No one ever said anything even remotely like that to me. I imagined they were thinking it though. Your mind can lead you down some destructive paths of reasoning sometimes. But that is how I saw myself–branded, marked, scarred.
Eventually I realized I was completely wrong.
There was no label, no demarcation of taintedness. There was only the burning shrine in my mind, a lighthouse signaling the dangerous harbor of moored emotions that lie within.
Now, over four years later, tired from constantly stoking the coals and feeding the flame, I’ve realized I need to let go. Really let go, like a reformed hoarder getting rid of old newspapers. The papers have been read twice, three, four times even, so why hold on to them any longer?
Through a lot of trial and error I think I’m finally learning to discard the outer layers of negative emotions (anger, guilt, despondence) and just live with the tender center of warm-hearted remembrance.
And with that, my job as lighthouse keeper will hopefully now take on new meaning.
Instead of the lighthouse being a dire warning of my inner pain and baggage, I’d like it to be a symbol of encouragement. A signal to others living in the same torment that says “I empathize with you”. A signal that says I too have been through hell and back, and I’m here to listen to your story and hopefully help in any kind of way, however small.
You don’t have to suffer out there on the water alone. Follow the light, come ashore and find healing. You too can not only survive but thrive.
I know this because a beacon of light was there for me when I needed it most. A friend who had been through a similar situation reached out to me when I was going through my own hell. I owe my life to her because she saved me. With her kind words, sage advice, and warm consolation she helped me through the absolute darkest time of my life and saved my soul from withering away to nothing. She rescued me from dying on the inside. She is a true angel on Earth and to her I am eternally grateful. Her light indeed shines the brightest.
So you may be wondering where all this lighthouseness came from. Well, the quote at the beginning of this writing is from the show Peaky Blinders and is said by a character who lives alone on an estate after the death of her husband. Ever since I heard it, it stuck with me.
It made me sad at first. But in the probably too much thought I’ve given it since, I now feel happy.
I’m grateful to still be here. And not just here as a shell of myself, but really here. Living not just existing. I am beyond grateful and appreciative for the light that saved me and hopeful that God willing, my light can help others.
Even in the darkest fog of your life, there’s always a light to show you the way.
CM
3/1/21
This post is dedicated to a true inspiration, my dear friend Liz Sweeny who’s kindness, encouragement and compassion were a lighthouse for my soul.
