Jet Lagged Thoughts on a Sunday Morning in London
I landed in London on a Sunday morning, two days after news that Anthony Bourdain, talented writer, chef and travel icon had killed himself in hotel room. Shock was with everyone. Weeks before, the world had learned that Kate Spade, famous designer had committed suicide. Lots of discussion about money and happiness has happened since.
With the time change, it was 3am in Boston, and 8am in London. Too early to check into our hotel room, too exhausted to walk or really go anywhere, we decided to hop on one of those giant tour buses that takes you around the city, with a recording in your ear telling you where you are and why what you’re looking at is important. These bus tours are a skimming of all of what makes London great. We rolled past Buckingham Palace, The Tower of London, Tower Bridge, Parliament, statues, train stations and shopping centers. In my jet lagged haze, I sat quietly and took it all in. Even though it was a Sunday morning, there was plenty of people watching to be had. Tourists meandering and locals with heads down, sure of their destination. It was a perched, rolling spot of quiet voyerism in this city I had never been in before. I could see everyone, but no one really looked up and saw me. It felt kind of great to be unseen, but seeing all, alone in my curiosity.
People watching at Waterloo Station.
This all blended into a diluted thought, that suddenly brought me to this celebrity chef traveler I had never met. I wondered about his loneliness and past demons that probably haunted him always, despite his success, family life and other outward trappings. In this small moment, on a giant tourist bus, I had a sliver of empathy run through me about how good it must have felt to be in a place where no one really knew you. You don’t have a past in a city you’ve never been in. No one knows your mistakes and failings when you land somewhere foreign for the first time. That cloak of stranger must have felt good to a man like Bourdain. And as soon as that moment of isolated delight hit me, I felt severe sadness and loneliness. How empty it must have felt to be constantly in a city where no one knows your past or who you are, or what you like or don’t like, all those things that make you you. Traveling around with a camera crew and your own private demons.
“TRAVEL ISN’T ALWAYS PRETTY. IT ISN’T ALWAYS COMFORTABLE. SOMETIMES IT HURTS. IT EVEN BREAKS YOUR HEART. BUT THAT’S OKAY. THE JOURNEY CHANGES YOU. IT SHOULD CHANGE YOU.”
It’s slightly uncomfortable to admit crying over someone you’ve never met, but there I was, with a jet-lagged hangover, wiping a silent tear over this man’s death. The truth is, it wasn’t a tear for him alone, it was emotion for all of us who think suffering in silence is better than admitting “weakness” or risk being looked at as less than. Those that seemingly have it all, and are embarrassed to tell anyone how much they are suffering. I wondered how many people were in my life, this very moment in real and utter pain and cannot bring themselves to tell anyone about it.
I have loved ones in my life who have depression. It’s real. It’s not a myth or something you snap out of. I hope this is becoming more apparent. No amount of money or fame or social status keeps mental illness away. We don’t keep a life threatening medical illness from people we love. We usually do everything we can to fight it. Let us do the same for mental illnesses. If you are fortunate enough to not have a mental illness, make sure you speak up and let those around you know you are an ally. Become a safe space for the hurt and suffering. Take down your own shiny exterior once in a while and let people know you are flawed and make mistakes and are sometimes anxious and do not have it all figured out. I’ll start: I sometimes question my biggest decisions in life. Like, if I made the right one. The big ones. Sometimes it swallows my brain for an entire day and I lose all productivity and motivation to get anything done.
Big sighs and warm baths at the end of the day help.
Let love, empathy and understanding create a community of healers and the healed.
Life isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts. It even breaks your heart. But that’s okay. The journey changes you. It should change you.
If you or someone you know is considering suicide, please contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255)
