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.