Living in the Shadows

I was talking to a friend via email yesterday afternoon about this blog and how I have handled the tragedy of losing my friend. There is one aspect I haven't seen coming, and it may even seem minor to the overall picture of my friend's death, but it may become a big issue for me as a survivor - I am not speaking to anyone. I have found it very hard to reach out to my friends. I guess you can say I have put myself out to them through this forum, but I mean the daily conversations I had in the past are not there right now. I can't help but feel every text or phone call I want to make will be about him. I am not sure if anybody wants to discuss it or not. I am worried about dominating the conversation with talk, debate, thoughts, and emotions about the suicide. I am not sure if I would come across negatively or pathetic to them, either.

But I guess that is why I have the friends I have. Another problem I have is that one of my main friends is also the one who found him. After sorting through all the aforementioned thoughts above I then think that my feelings about it are miniscule compared to what must be running through his mind. I know I should not think like that, but I cannot help it. I feel okay with having the feelings thoughts and emotions I have about my friend to myself, but I don't know why I have some worry about reaching out to anybody else. Several people, even those from my periphery have reached out to me making sure I'm okay or that I am feeling well.

It is so tough to want to meet up with my friends when I can still feel the coldness of his hand in mine. Every cold blast of winter wind makes that a difficult reminder of when I was at my weakest during his viewing. In his letter to me and our friends, he ended it with "Party on brothers." I've written that before, and it makes me mad. I'm supposed to party with your "brothers" because you are gone? I am sure that is what you want us to do rather than mull over you. I understand you felt the way you felt about yourself as you prepared to leave us. I cannot speak for everybody, but I know you were not a burden. Your pain and situation was far from a burden. And now you have put that burden on other people, that I am supposed to party with. Unfortunately, this is what I want to discuss with my friends. Goddammit, I can't even talk to the people I normally would.

This is extremely aggravating. I am fortunate enough to have wedding/bachelor party for one of my friends coming up next month, so hopefully there will be enough going on to allow me to "party on." Until then I don't know what to do. I know some of my friends have problems expressing or accepting their emotions. I wish I could tell them everything they feel will be okay. Those people I worry about, and I would have to tell them if I felt they were, and who wants to hear that while trying to "party on?" I certainly wouldn't if I were them.

I have, fortunately found greater comfort in my home, where my girlfriend accepted me at my saddest and allowed me to cry into her shoulder, and understands a little more now when I discuss the mental illness my friend had as well as relating with my own struggles. My son, I've learned once again how to cherish him and make sure I provide the best father figure I possibly can to him. They both help my days and weeks move on better and better, but that's about the end of all the socializing I can take. I expressed these thoughts to her before, and she would tell me there is no need for me to have to share these feelings with other people; that I did not have to bring it up, but if I could not ignore it then maybe I needed more time. It is so shocking to me how I went from the uttermost confidence to this self-questioning person, doubting my own intentions and giving myself unnecessary guilts.

One thing I do know for a fact is that time indeed heals all wounds. Just because I heal, doesn't mean I was not hurt, doesn't mean I don't have some form of scar to bear. These are okay. I am healing, in my own way. I just am trying to avoid reopening the wound, I guess. Maybe once in a while it is okay to open up the wound to show somebody how deeply I was hurt? Perhaps they wouldn't feel so bad if they had the same size wound, and they could show me, then we make sure each other heals, and takes care of that wound. Sometimes the wounds we get in life are where we can't see them, and we need another person to help us cover them, treat them, and heal them.

Thank you for reading.

I'm a survivor

It sounds cheesy, yes. But it is true. I've survived many things in my life, including a battle with depression. As I have said before on here it is a battle, not just for today, but forever. I am depressed my friend is gone. He will never be replaced, no matter how many other friends I may have. I just had a lengthy conversation with somebody very close to my friend. We exchanged things neither of us knew about the situation. I needed to come on here and find a way to collect myself.

One thing I kept reiterating in my side of the conversation is that my friend had some deep seeded emotional strife. When these things finally come to fruition into the front of his mind, everything else that was bad happening to him would make that weight heavier and heavier. We both took some form of comfort in knowing that he isn't suffering anymore, but that is not an excuse for his action. 

The other end of the conversation included a lot of "What did I do, what could I have done differently?" type questions. These questions are further proof to me that he had no other recourse, in his mind. Again, that is not a valid reason to me and those that knew him and lost him. A person in a rational state of mind can see there are other choices, other alternatives to coping with the pain. It is just that every person in his life wanted to see him get better. Some of them know little of mental illness while others heard and felt his pain. It is a broad spectrum amongst people I know. I know some are still mad at him, but I don't know if I can hold on to that feeling. I am forever grateful for the things he did for me as a friend, as a brother. I am forever grateful for the memories, even if the person I saw and spoke to over the past couple months wasn't the person I knew all these years. Or was he really that person? I know when I began opening up to my friends, some had no ideas. Others just gloss over it when I relate a similar story about myself. But they only knew what I wanted them to know. So did he.

I would say that this is something that would get better with time after the dust settles. The problem is my friend created a cloud of dust that disappears when I finally close my eyes for the last time. But I have learned how to see through the dust. How to breath the dust and filter it for myself. I have learned that it is okay to sometime get some of that dust in my eye that only the tears can get out, or the dust that makes me choke and cough is a reminder that I am alive and still have a purpose to fulfill while I am.

Finding a friend

Yesterday I had the privilege of working with one of my favorite contractors. I do environmental work checking out conditions under the ground. We have a set of drillers we prefer, and I worked with one yesterday I met a few years ago. We have worked together several times over the years to the point of becoming friends. Some contractors, you can talk about your life, others you know more intimately you can talk about LIFE. Unfortunately for the driller, his wife committed suicide late last year. She left him and their 3 and 2 year old children behind. From hearsay, I heard that she had battled demons and must have finally had enough. I called him yesterday to give him directions to the site. After we got the necessities out of the way, I gave my condolences about his wife. His response, in his typical southern drawl, was "Yeah man that sucked." I told him I recently lost one of my greatest friends in the same manner. He essentially offered back the same exact condolences, along with "and I really don't know what else to say." Neither did I. I was looking forward to the day I would work with the driller again so that I could share the experience. I thought though that perhaps I would feel guilty as I only lost a friend while he lost his wife and mother of his children.

Then when I was at home trying to find some laughs on Facebook, a man I knew from mostly the high school years sent me a message, expressing his condolences for the loss of my friend. I knew it was a matter of time before I had a conversation with him. A few years back, his father committed suicide, most likely due to the depression he suffered after losing one of his younger sons to suicide. This man had two younger brothers, who were twins. He told me the brother that passed had his demons and was part of a long term problem and his father's passing was more like a reaction. I always heard of this news, but to actually hear (or in this case read) it from him, especially at this time, made my heart ache.

However, one thing I learned from talking with these two people - no matter the relationship of the person you lost, those who have lost recognize that it is significant, regardless of the relationship. I always wondered what the man from high school I haven't spoken to in forever would feel like my loss was of any significance compared to his. Or that my driller friend would shrug off my loss. When I was chatting with them, never once in my 15 minute conversation on Facebook or my 8 hour day with the driller did we ever once tell each other how to feel, rather talked about how we feel. The driller was talking about the ways he was moving on, dwelling very little on the loss of his wife, and at one point I could see, and he later admitted, he was getting sad. I don't know the topic, but he said, "that was mommy, ya know?" The strange part to me was then asking me how I enjoyed being the "dad" to a son my significant other had before I met her. The driller is trying to date, and he was actively seeking my advice on how the step-parent relationship blossomed, as that is a concern he must now have. I explained my thoughts on it, and our conversations overall that day were not necessarily negative or positive - just flatline on facts and fact-of-the-matter explanation of feelings. While this wasn't necessarily a "fun" day, it was the most relaxed day of work in a long time (even before the suicide) that I enjoyed. The driller is a few months past his loss, and I hope to be at his point in the near future. Even as he returned to work, was finding a way to raise his kids, and resume his love life, he will always be and showed that he is impacted severely by his loss. The conversation I had on Facebook showed me that even after years, the hurt can be as real and significant as it was in the beginning. But it will be okay to have those emotions/feelings.

It is odd to think this way, but when this happened, despite many of my friends experiencing the same loss and even compared to my two friends who found the body, I felt alone. I still do sometimes. People saw me very upset at the viewing. Some of them showed anger, some showed courage, and others showed sadness. All I know, seeing my friend, my brother, in a casket, eyes shut, seeing a man who had encouraged me keep my head up and my life was better than I knew it, couldn't tell himself the same. I couldn't prove it to him. None of us could. When everybody reached out, I don't know if it was because they looked out to me for guidance, or if they reached out to make sure I was okay. I admit, I try to be as stoic as possible, but the ones who really know me know that I wear my emotions on my sleeve. In fact I could probably package up my emotions and present them to you upon meeting for the first time. Who knows.

When I decided to start this forum I had no idea if I would have one post or post every day. I still don't. All I know is I wrote down everything I felt Saturday night after the funeral. While most of my friends were hanging out at the bar down the street, I had opted to follow through with my pre-made plans of going away for the rest of the weekend with my girlfriend and son. I held them and enjoyed every second I could have with them. But, when they went to sleep, I could not. I sat out in her aunt's kitchen trying to find stories from other suicide survivors. That's the term used for people like us. I don't think it was the content of what I was reading, but as I read more and more I cried more and more. It was a different kind of sadness. One I couldn't wake up my girlfriend to seek relief for. She had been there already for me at the funeral and let cry in her arms, without judgement. A friend later did the same as I walked out of the room one last time. It was some form of sadness that I needed to find a way to direct or else I would never get to sleep, and perhaps become to overrun with it all.

I had my first post completed, reading several times to myself. As I was driving home on Sunday night, listening to the song "No Good, Mr. Holden" by the band Graveyard, the chorus kicked in for the second time of the song. There is a long build up, and I can't tell for sure, but the singer is either experience his own depression issues or those of somebody else, or perhaps a similar loss. The buildup goes through somebody being tortured in a mental and emotional way, more instruments kick in, the song gets a little heavier, it is building to a monumental moment as the singer than blasts "Change is all I want but I can't do it alllll." I lost it. It is at the 3:40 mark of the song. I love this song so much, more so since my friend's passing. It makes me sad, it makes me happy to be alive, it makes me mad, and most importantly it makes me feel like I am alive. I don't know why, just can't explain it. It is the most emotionally impactful song to me since I first heard "Freebird." I realized at that moment that I had to share my thoughts.

I write another blog, mostly about my life, trying to make light of certain things. I hadn't written since I heard of my friend's passing. I never spoke a word of it on Facebook or Twitter. I had a long day of work on this past Monday that gave me all the relief in the world, so I decided to write about it. I titled it "Moving On..." I had a brief blurb about this site with a clickable link, sure to not mention about my friend's suicide, his name, or details. I always post my blog posts on Facebook or Twitter after I am done. When I clicked on the site the next day to put up another post, I saw that 100 people had viewed it. I have never in my life generated anything that ever moved like that. It had more hits in that one day than the original post I put the link to had garnered.

The point of this, I know you are out there. I know you miss a him or her that was important in your life. I know that person you miss was somebody's father/son/brother/husband/boyfriend/friend or somebody's mother/daughter/sister/wife/girlfriend/friend. I didn't actively seek out the people I talked to yesterday, but I am glad I had the chance to. To hear other perspectives from people who don't have mixed feelings at the moment about my friend was a relief. It was a great perspective. I hope that if I never ever in my life met you and you happened across this Site, I can do the same for you.

Thank you.

Why? (As in why did you do it and why didn't I help)

That is the ultimate question I am sure many of you want to ask the person you lost and I heard many people ask themselves. I know between my group of friends, he had some form of contact with people who cared. I talked to him maybe once a week, trying to give him some affirmation that his life was going to be okay and that he needed to get himself better to be the better man and best man possible. His circumstances were pretty severe at the time, and I would hear from a friend who knew of sudden developments that had occurred that would wreck any man. The day I heard that he had lost a significant portion of his life, I wanted to ask him "How ya doin man? Hope you're feeling better." But I knew how he was doing. I knew it was not good. So I asked myself last week "Why didn't I show him I cared? Why didn't I reassure him everything was going to once again be okay? I knew he would not believe me, or worse yet he would not listen.

I know some people were telling him to "Get over it", and I agree to that to a point. Everyone handles a major loss differently. The negatives in his life, they were always there. They must have been in a deep dark place in his heart. We discussed it. I was telling him that years ago, my first psychologist told me that every time you experience something associated with negativity or depressing or tragic, the brain releases a little more serotonin than usual. That's an enzyme within the brain that is secreted to help regulate mood. His issues stemming from deep inside were already bringing him down. Then when everything in his family life fell apart there must have been an enormous release within. All that did was cause more negativity and depressing thoughts to deal with. Yet he was starting to tell me why. His own "why" of the genesis of his feelings. I will tell you, the circumstances he was facing were because of reasons he could never express. I can empathize that the sudden realization of the things that came from deep within are like a crushing blow. I got to a point before that being stuck in traffic would have me dangerously worked up. The stuff I admitted to my marriage counselor at that point were enough to get me immediate help. The thoughts and actions of my friend resulted in people getting him the immediate help he required. You can always lead the horse to water but you cannot always make him drink.

Another why I ask myself is "why did I have to choose a side?" I knew my friend for the majority of my life, and his wife a recent addition that made him better. She is a great and strong woman from what I have seen. I know a couple of our friends were playing both sides of the sword. I never knew of the issues that came up between him and his wife until one night in October I heard my friend, his voice shaking with emotions, tell me his pain. I was so confused. I instantly reattached to him. I did not choose a side as in to defend my friend but rather to help him deal. Perhaps the saying is absolutely true,  like attracts like. He knew every struggle I had and he would be a voice of reason with his get over it because you are better than that mentality. I knew he needed to hear the same from me.

So that leads me to another why- why didn't he listen to me?!?!

That's the toughest one right there for me. I will never know now if he ever understood a single word I said. If he ever knew talking out these thoughts would help him organize them, and help him heal internally. I will never know if it mattered to him that I had been in his shoes in the past, and he helped give me the strength.  Why now did you have to transfer the pain you kept to yourself to the hundreds of people who love you? I know that when you hurt mentally you can either get proper help, make a physical pain to distract you, or make sure the mental pain would be erased. The only even the slightest bit of comfort I take in his death is knowing that he isn't in pain anymore.

Then the questions come fast and furious...

Why did you have to give me your pain?

Why did you have to pop up in my head now during certain songs I once truly enjoyed?

Why could i not repay the ultimate favor to you?

These questions have no answer. They will never be answered. I cannot even speculate what the answer would have been. I shouldn't. I realized that at his viewing, when I was quietly whispering "Why, man? Why?" I could write a book of questions for you, but it would only be half full now.

This blog, this gutting of my feelings like this, I am sure is not a lot of fun to read. It is not fun to write that's for sure. I was able to conquer yesterday, though. Today I hope will be at least eaqually as easy to conquer. To all my friends who read this, and to any other stranger out there on the internet, time will heal us. I have heale dfrom many wounds, internally and externally after enough time. Just remember that when it feels like you won't heal, there is somebody like me who wants to see you heal.

Looking to lighten my heavy heart

It has now been 3 days since his funeral, seven days since I gathered with my friends, eight days since I heard the news, and possibly 10 days since his passing. It is surreal. I can probably count these days for the rest of my life.

I will not mention my friend's name. That is for my social media contributions to society. If you read this and want to share something, don't feel you have to say a name. I by no means am looking to dwell on the collective thoughts pertaining to anyone person. That is for private. It is rather to express the feelings of mourning, loss, anger, guilt, and an unending sadness that comes from a loss by suicide. The important thing is I need a forum to talk. A place to turn my tears into something beneficial and not a pity party. Hopefully, somebody stumbled upon this site and can relate, in some way shape or form, and understand they are not alone. That the roller coaster of feelings is inevitable, and acceptable.

The person I lost was not my hands down best friend, but he was one of my greatest friends. He was not related to me in anyway other than being the same age and from the same school, but we treated each other like brothers. I obviously did not commit my life to him, but his family was (and is) my family. That is how my friends and I view each other. I saw a lot of people for the first time in years over the past week. But I wish it would have been because they chose to get together and were not forced. Any old grudges seemed to have been forgotten or forgiven. Any distance between us was reduced to the space needed at most for a handshake. I saw people who have had their own struggles, some in secret, some not, stand before me as normal people.

I am not sure the enormity of this situation has even fully hit me yet. I am still in shock. I have had my struggles, which go back to as early as I can remember. The man I saw on Saturday was one of the reasons I can fight the good fight for myself. He was (and still is) a part of my self strength, my mental and emotional muscles. I can't say that I HAVE suffered from depression, but rather I suffer from depression. However I have found my ways to cope and overcome. Life isn't a battle you win one time, it is one you must face all the time. At my lowest, deepest, darkest bottom, he was there for me. I tried to repay the favor. Tried to tell him how much I knew it would hurt. His circumstances were able to be overcome, and I thought he would.

Just when I start to remember him for what I he did for me, I start to get mad at what he has done. I guess that is why I am creating this forum. Every 13.7 minutes, a person commits suicide. It is the 10th ranked cause of death in the United States. According to a 2010 report from the American Association of Suicidology, 38,364 people die from it. According to this same report, at least 6 people are intimately affected by a suicide, or at least 230,184. I am sure it is more than that, as I saw maybe about 100 people pass in and out of the funeral home, weeping, or just standing outside the room, speechless, and couldn't go in. There was family left behind who could not get in to the country to see him one last time. There was his mother losing herself in my shoulder. There were people who refused to go.

All the emotions that can go through one's mind are strong enough to confuse anybody. They tear me up inside, but hopefully I can find some form of healing and resolution on my friend's passing.

Please, feel free to comment, share your own personal story, or any thoughts. Anything not directed towards this topic will be removed, so you can feel comfortable sharing here. I am not a psychologist, nor do I want to be, but I am hear to listen as you certainly have for me if you got to this point. As this time passes by, I will write more. I already feel like today can be a slightly better day than yesterday.

Thank you.