Compassion Gets Compromised

Thoughts I thought I should write down, can't sleep, seem to be sneezing and waking my husband so up I get.
Recent comments/discussions replaying. The topic of suicide. A friend of someone dear to me is conjectured to have completed, in the face of their own loss. The dear one is mad at said dead person. I have encountered that anger (from others) many times in my experience. I wonder about its true nomenclature. Anger and grief are close allies inherent any loss. Anger is after all just a feeling, not an act. But the phrase "mad at" it's directional, a vector of feeling, and one perhaps not so kind. Anger and fear are allies as well. My own perspective is one of curiosity as well as judgment. Who knows why really a person chooses to die, I only know what draws me to this. And some of the reasons I don't take death's hand are because of how my dear ones will respond. Yet I feel such anger myself that others have the "nerve" to be "mad at" someone who has no doubt wrestled in silence with great difficulty (or calm certitude). "mad at" the "giving up". People hope against hope that someone they care for will not die but to actively seek death brings its own new subset of complex feelings. We all try to understand but when it comes to hurts of the minds our compassion gets compromised. Depression has been described to me as a rebellion against a world unbalanced by hurt and by some seen as a political act. i can see that somewhat but it's also a mind that's suffering, like a troubled other, more understood organ. Depression's capacity however is infinitely more destructive. Our minds oversee everything, our minds are in charge of absolute every function of the body so when there is trouble in the big house any other part of the body can be affected, infected. So I see it as more cancerous than cancer, more insert adjectified illness here than said illness. We do that don't we; turn nouns into verbs all the time.

Another recent discussion wrt dreams: me telling someone about a particularly scary, fanciful, bizarre night excursion. The listener started to analyse my dream, with great confidence it seemed to me, that theirs was the definitive meaning.  So my response is not to tell them any more of my dreams. I was particularly resistant to their interpretation, I hadn't asked for it yet it was not merely offered but insisted upon. A gesture of caring, of fixing. It was frustrating but I guess they were just trying to help. Someone else's version of what will fix things rarely does it because they do not have all of the pertinent info at hand, don't have access to the big picture, they are not the expert, yet off they frequently go, I know cause I do it all the time. And they have also decided I am to read a particular book and I have just need to either keep an open mind and read it, because there is always something new to learn or say no thank you. It's an odd catch, I would love to feel fixed as in, some semblance of normalcy but what does that mean, is there peace for any of us? Or just different levels of denial. But I do not wish to be someone's project. I really feel appreciative of someone who is willing to listen without then launching into fix mode, that is a rare skill.

The above notwithstanding I am worried, I am eating my feelings like crazy, stuffing whatever I can find that is foodlike into my mouth. Feeling bloated. Maybe I am very afraid about this upcoming neurofeedback stuff. That's understandable, I am human after all (despite what seems like evidence to the contrary) and like everyone else I fear the unknown, fear what I cannot control. It's kind of a leap of some magnitude. I won't say faith because that word is too loaded.