“You’re like a knight in a suit of armor and from far away it looks all shiny and perfect. But when you get close, you see that it’s filled with cracks.”
 
I remember those words from college. A friend of mine (Tom Rhyne) said them to me the summer after my Junior year. I’ve carried those words with me for 18 years and counting.

At the time I took it as a disappointment. As a reflection of the fact that I had flaws, which I shouldn’t have. That I should be better, that I should work harder to be perfect and work harder at eliminating those flaws—of which I had and do still have many. I used that as motivation to strive harder, to push myself through rough times and keep on going in an attempt to be better.

I’ve also used it as an excuse to push people away and to bury stuff inside. Because it was more important to me that people saw the shiny armor rather than the cracks. Because—I believed—that’s what they needed or what they wanted to see. That was a form of strength. That was being a rock that people could cling to. That was being inspiration that helped others strive forward. That was being something that was helpful to others.

I frequently have debates with myself about admitting any form of weakness, even to my closest friends. It feels like burdening. It feels like putting stress on them. Their problems come first and it is more important that they know they have something they can cling to. Not to mention that our society strongly instills in us this desire to be independent, to be strong, that so many things are a weakness and that weakness is bad. In short, you always need to be “on”.

And I believe that gets magnified especially with social media. There is this desire to always post the good, the smart, the engaging, the uplifting. It is a case of putting your best foot forward and making sure that you are recognized for the awesome person you are.

It’s not quite an illusion. It isn’t a lie. You are still this person. It just isn’t the whole picture. It isn’t everything. There are parts that are buried that are hidden. But that doesn’t make it untrue. And on some days, it very much is true. On other days, you just gloss over the ugly bits.

Because I am familiar with this, I try very hard to be aware of it with others. Often times—not always—the people who are smiling the most, who are doing the most, who are never showing a negative side; they carry scars and chinks in their armor that they aren’t comfortable with showing. I deliberately try to look for those chinks, not to just gloss over them like it is so easy and so common to do. I make a concentrated effort to do this because they must be there. Maybe I do it because I want to be reassured that I’m not failing as much as I feel I am with my own flaws? Entirely possible that is the selfish motivation.

But here’s the key. Seeing them is important, but don’t call attention to them. I’ve learned that not everyone likes light shined on those imperfections. Some people do. Some will appreciate it and thank you for it. But for some, it will just be driving a knife into that opening. It’s different for each person, I think. And even then, it can be different for every flaw.

But I think by being aware of them, by looking for them, and realizing that they are there, I think that is important and a way to support those “knights in shining armor”. Because even rocks need a foundation to stand upon, and it doesn’t matter how big a rock is when waves keep crashing against it.

Erosion still happens.

Yesterday while I was on the way to practice for the Seattle Knights, I started having an asthma attack. It was at this point, several minutes from home, that I realized I left my inhaler behind and did not have it with me. This is not unusual; I do not need my inhaler often. I’ve had asthma my whole life and have learned both how it affects me and how to manage it. I know that if I stay calm, and avoid engaging in strenuous physical activity, I can get through it. I might have more than my fair share of coughing fits, but as long as I focus on breathing and stay relaxed, it will go away. My asthma is exercise-induced. Since I was going to be sitting the car driving for at least twenty more minutes, this was not going to be a problem. I did exactly as I had taught myself to do, staying calm and taking the deepest breaths I could manage. By the time that I got to the armory, my breathing was back to normal and I could once again fill my lungs to capacity.
 
This incident brought up a memory from when I was training in a dojo several years ago. I was sparring and I noticed that my asthma was starting to trigger. I told the instructor that I needed to sit down and catch my breath. When he came over to ask me about it, I explained that I was having an asthma attack and that I needed to sit and not be active for a while in order to get my breathing under control. I wanted to make sure he knew that I wasn’t just taking a break, that I honestly couldn’t breathe. He asked if I needed my inhaler and I shook my head explaining that as long as I sat still, I would get it under control. His response surprised me.
 
“I always thought asthma was like that. You can get through it if you’re strong enough mentally.”
 
Because of his experience with me on that day, I am confident that I cemented his opinion on what asthma is. He had a preconceived notion (or perhaps it was based on experience, I do not know), and I served as another case to verify that definition. I think we as human beings like to define things solidly. We like to make a clear definition of what something is. It either IS something, or it IS NOT something. It is asthma or not, black or white. But here’s the thing – it isn’t black and white. It is not a binary decision, no matter how much we want it to be because of our natures.
 
I can get through most of my asthma attacks by sheer power of mental will. However, that is just my case. I know other people with asthma who are not quite so lucky and no sheer power of mental will alone will get them through an attack. Yes, I have asthma, but I do not have it in the same way or as strongly as others. It is not a bitwise decision; it is a greyscale one that has different degrees of severity. You cannot assume that someone else can easily overcome their asthma just because I can get through most of my attacks with a calm mind and focus.
 
And I think it is important to realize that this goes a step further. As I said, it is in our nature to want to define things and create bitwise categorizations. It is either A or B, yes or no, black or white. But that is often not the case. It should be no stretch of the imagination to think that this goes beyond the physical and treads into the category of mental state.
 
I have friends who are depressed to varying states. I have people in my life who have PTSD for different reasons and to different degrees. They respond to their triggers and pain differently. This is not a bitwise condition. Not all depression is the same. It is a greyscale. Just because one person can climb out of the mental hole they have fallen into does not mean another person can do it in the same way. It does not always look the same, and it is a mistake to assume it does.
 
I have seen people say that “So-and-so can’t be depressed, they don’t do X, Y, or Z.” That is a case of assigning your definition of depression to someone, something that falls into the bitwise trap I was mentioning before. Just because someone doesn’t fit your definition doesn’t mean that you have the authority to say whether or not they are depressed. It doesn’t matter if you know someone who is – heck, it doesn’t matter if you know ten people who are. Different people feel things to different degrees and it is not just a simple switch.
 
And here’s the thing. I also know people fall into that same trap when talking about themselves. “I can’t be depressed, I don’t do X, Y, or Z.” This is the exact same trap, just projecting it on yourself rather than someone else.
 
Remember, just because I have asthma and can breathe, doesn’t mean everyone else with asthma can. Or perhaps more pertinently: just because someone with asthma can’t breathe without an inhaler, doesn’t invalidate my asthma.