Depressions are silent killers, but I have found a very effective way of dealing with depression which I would like to share with you guys. It worked for me, and I believe it would work for you too. it is as simple as hiring male companions. Yes, you read me right, it is that simple.
If you have been in the position where you lost a loved one, it would be easy for you to understand the meaning of depression. I had a boyfriend whom I loved so much. We were planning to get married. Then there was this emergency, and he was drafted to keep the peace. A very young and fine lieutenant, the best I have ever seen.
His image still haunts my dreams, the way he bent forward and kissed my forehead before embarking on that ill-fated mission. Throughout the days of his absence, I dreamed of him, fantasized about our honeymoon and how we would have strong males who would also serve in the army. My dreams and fantasies were never to be. They were ambushed by the local rebels and slaughtered like animals.
The gory pictures of his mutilated body have refused to leave my memory ever since I set my eyes on it. I wished I never saw it, but I was thankful I did. That picture sent me down a path of depression. My dreams were shattered. I was helpless and hopeless. I didn’t see any reason to live on.
The problem I have with mourners is that some of them talk too much. I know they are trying to be nice, to say things that would make you feel better at times of grief but they often end up ruining everything. The words hit you in a way they never intended.
Imagine a lady came into my room where I was rolled up on my bed and said, “You are hurting yourself. No amount of grief would bring him back.” How is this supposed to make me feel better?
The male companions that come in once in a while, usually casual friends and colleagues at work were pickier with their words. They made sure they used words that didn’t undermine your feeling but rather encouraged you to move on.
I was glad when the number of mourners began to decline, but with every one-less person around, the more loneliness crept into the room to take their place. When I was left with my best friend, Tasha, I felt helpless each time she left for work. I felt like someone abandoned in the middle of the desert with sandstorms blowing from every corner.
Each time she returned, I would hug her tight for minutes, refusing to pull away. I never failed to tell her how I felt about her absence and presence. Really, she is the only person I don’t struggle to impress. I know she understood exactly how I felt even if I did not explain to her over and over. Tasha was the kind of person that was sensitive to the feeling and needs of others.
“I am scared each time I walk out that door,” Tasha began to say, “because I am scared that you would do something crazy.”
I started to protest, but she was firm with her words, “I think it is time to call in professional male companions.”
I was a little annoyed because I didn’t want any other person around. I enjoyed our company, the two of us. Tasha insisted that I get male companions and to match action with words; she hired one the next day.
The first few days I spent with male companions brought back a lot of memories about my dead fiancée. Each time my eyes fell on their rippling muscles or six packs, images will begin to flood back. I protested to Tasha that I didn’t want any more male companions, but she insisted that they will keep coming till I was back to life.
One thing I appreciated about the male companions is that they were not like the regular mourners that flooded my home earlier. They gave you ample space to grieve without saying words that sound as if they were judging you. They played the role of companions.
People don’t get it, what grievers often need are companions. Someone that will be just there not necessarily talking but doing the little errands like bringing coffee to the griever or stretching their hands to offer them a clean handkerchief when their eyes are heavy.
I am glad to have a friend to have a friend like Tasha who knows exactly what I needed. Gradually I got over the death of my fiancée and fell in love again. It is a pity I am not allowed to love this lovely guy that has been my companion, but I know he has a bright future ahead of him.