Studio 505 is the name of the building where I work. When my wife and I bought this house in 2021, we hired Andrew, an ambitious crew chief, to build a studio on the property. It is a fully-functioning multitrack music studio as well as the place I see patients.
Andrew came to us highly recommended, and over the course of the building’s construction we became friendly.
I saw him today, as I have another, much smaller project for him. I drove to his house and was warmly welcomed. We caught up, and instead of waiting for the inevitable questions about the kids, I chose to address our estrangement early in the conversation. A father himself, he was engaged and sympathetic. He’d noticed that I’m 20 pounds lighter now, and I explained that this was the result of estrangement-related stress, and not a workout or diet.
He’s genuine and caring, and I felt comfortable explaining that I experienced a short period of suicidal ideation not long after the estrangement began.
It’s not an easy thing to discuss with anyone, and I certainly don’t tend to burden people with such a topic in short conversations.
Without hesitating, he told me, “If you’re in that position again, you call me. We can hang out. I can distract you or I can talk about it with you, whatever you need. But you call me.” His manner was insistent, and he said it again before I left. I know he meant it.
That moment of connection was one I won’t forget. Just to have someone I like but hadn’t seen in 3 years make such an offer meant more than I can put into words. He didn’t claim to have a solution, a cure, or a magical potion to make it go away. What he had was genuineness and willingness to connect.
It’s why we have peer support meetings. I’m not anyone’s guru or miracle maker. I believe, believe in the value and power of connecting with caring people. I thank Andrew for it, and I thank all our group members for it.
