Issue 12: If You Are Disappearing, Read This.
Or if you’re busy with adulthood and don’t know how to tell your parents
You can write an epistle. If your parents are baby boomers or late millennials, they most likely enjoy reading long messages on WhatsApp. They want you to write them something very long that they will have to press ‘Read more’ twice. It gives them joy, knowing that you value them enough to write something that long. You know how you send something long to your Gen Z friends and they say, “Can you please summarise this?” Or you send them a seven-minute voice note and they block you because why are you sending a podcast to them on WhatsApp? Your parents will never do that. They want the long voice notes. They want to hear your voice for seven and a half minutes. They want to read your epistle in their DM. So yes, if you’re busy with adulthood and you don’t know how to tell your parents, write them an epistle.
In the epistle, talk about everything that is bothering you, as much as you are open to sharing. Mention familiar struggles. Tell them electricity bills are crazy. Tell them gas is now so expensive. Ask them how they did during their time. Let them remember how difficult adulting was for them so they can understand your present pain. They will read it. And then they will call you after so they can know you are still alive and doing well because that is what parents do. If you’re not ready for calls just yet, you can include it in your epistle. Tell them they should reply you on WhatsApp since you’re not open to calls for now. They may understand this and not call. But if your parents are anything like mine, they will most likely still call.
This issue of the ER Club is going to be a short one. I am writing this because my friend, SJ, says to always show up. She says, it does not have to be a hundred every time but you have to always show up. Even if it is just a twenty or a fifty or a ten, just show up. So yeah, this issue is me showing you and sharing something I should be telling myself in the mirror. Here’s what I mean:
My phone has been on airplane mode for days now and no, I am not on an airplane. There is no reason for my phone to be on airplane mode. But I am constantly getting tired and calls stress me out. Not picking is an option but even seeing the missed calls lined up in red in my call log feels scary, like tiny drops of blood on white tiles. They remind me that I am not doing something right. So yeah, I put my phone on airplane mode. That way, I don’t even know who is calling to begin with. I also went ahead to archive all my chats on WhatsApp. I did not know this feature even existed but in my desperation for quiet, I found it. If I knew earlier, I would have put it to use months ago. I have also decided to mute most status updates on my WhatsApp. I rarely check WhatsApp status updates anyway but seeing all those updates there is quite disturbing - which is really confusing since I always post like forty updates a day whenever I am online. But right now, I really just need the quiet.
I don’t know how to explain this to anyone. Z asks me what my worst qualities are and I ask my friends and four of them said in almost the same words, “You disappear.’ This is true, I disappear. I am not even going to deny it. Faith says the problem is not with disappearing but not telling people who care about you that you are disappearing. He’s not wrong. He reminds me of the song, Slow Fade by Casting Crowns. The lines:
It's a slow fade / When you give yourself away / It's a slow fade / When black and white have turned to grey / And thoughts invade, choices made / A price will be paid / When you give yourself away
It’s never one thing that makes you disappear. It’s never in an instant. It’s the combination of everything to the point where you say, okay, enough is enough.
If you’re disappearing your parents are worried. You can write them an epistle. You can even call them if that’s your kind of thing and let them know you won’t be as available as before. If you can’t talk to them, you can tell your siblings or a close family member. You can let at least one person know that, hey, this is what’s happening. That way, if your parents are so so worried, other family members can calm them down.
I should mention here that I initially wrote this as a letter to myself, to gain the courage to pick up a call from home after missing many calls for like three days now. Then it occurred to me that, if I am feeling this way, there are probably more people out there like me. So if this piece has not given you the solution to your problem, maybe it can put up a mirror, and instead of seeing yourself alone, disappearing, you can see the rest of us there with you, letting you know that you are not alone.
If this makes sense to you, share it with others. If it does not, share it with someone you think might be disappearing. It may help them feel seen. Also, share with your WhatsApp contacts. Apparently, a lot of folks come from there so yeah, share screenshots and share links to your status. I won’t see it but others will.
The essay I am sharing today is from a Letter series I just discovered on The Guardian. It is titled, ‘A letter to… my stepdad, who stepped up.’
In the letter, the writer talks about how their relationship with their stepdad evolved from that of dislike to complete admiration and love. I read it and I almost shed tears. Stories like this make me cry. I have no idea why. The letter is not so related to today’s issue but at least it highlights the love between the stepdad and the writer within the context of the family: that should count for something.
Here is an excerpt from the essay:
To read the full essay titled ‘A letter to… my stepdad, who stepped up’, tap here. I really hope you enjoy it as much as I did and that you share it with your loved ones.
Thank you for reading my newsletter. It matters to me that you did. Make sure you subscribe if you haven’t yet. If you’re sharing on Twitter, use the hashtag #TheERclub so I can see it. Also, read this post on meeting people in the middle so you can know how to understand a disappearing friend.
I wish you sunshine and rain this week. ❤️
I don't disappear. Maybe that's my problem.
Thank you for this. Now I know it's not a bad thing to disappear. Everywhere is just sooooooooo noisy. The peace and quiet is so much needed. I'd do it again😂