WHY...

This one isn’t going to be real easy to write.  But perhaps it will help me as well. 

I remember when I first started blogging (per Sisters request), she didn’t like when I exposed myself to the world and shared my ups and downs and put myself out there for the world to see…but it is who I am.  I have no secrets.  I lived way too many years with them.  It is no way to live.  That was the purpose of the blog no?  It is a diary of sorts.  Sure I want to write about other things but myself, but it was supposed to be an outlet for me.  And in order to express myself, I had to also share myself.  The good, the bad and the ugly.  I am not afraid of the world seeing that.  Maybe that makes me not like most people, but then again, it is ok to be different.

I really do not know many details and am not about to pretend I do.  The world lost a young lady yesterday who clearly thought that not living in this world would be easier than whatever she was going through.  That young lady for all intents and purposes was my nephew’s first “girlfriend.”  So although I did not personally know her, this hit close to home.  On so many levels.

We live in a world where if those around us cannot “see” our pain, we are obviously not in any.  What a horribly wrong assumption to make.  For anyone.  It couldn’t be more wrong.

If you have never suffered from depression, kudos to you.  I don’t believe any of us have ever been exempt from it though.  At some point, in your life, you will go through it.  Over a partner, over money, over death of a loved one, over a divorce, over cheating, over a bad grade, over being bullied…the list goes on.  Some people go in and out of it like a wave does on the shore.  In. Out.  For others it isn’t that easy.  There is a commercial out there about a depression medication that says “depression hurts.”  Unless you have truly been in it, where it doesn’t ebb and flow so easily, no truer words are spoken.  It hurts like hell.

I was born and raised Catholic.  And was taught many moons ago that you could not be given a funeral or a proper Catholic burial if you committed suicide.  That one's life is the property of God and a gift to the world, and to destroy that life is to wrongly assert dominion over what is God's and is a tragic loss of hope.  I believe the thoughts have changed, I could be wrong.  I believe the Church does pray for those souls who feel like taking their own life is their only answer.  I am not in any position to say what is right or what is wrong.  I just know that I pray to a God that loves us all, no matter what choices we make. 

I first learned I “suffered” from depression my freshman year of college.  I will not go into the details of what happened to bring this to fruition, but if doing so would help someone else, I would do so in a heartbeat.  I inflicted self-pain, I didn’t harm anyone else.  But it was a rude awakening and I was very lucky that a medical professional at that time knew “what it was.”  In 1990, being depressed was quite “taboo.”  Something was terribly wrong with someone who had to be on “anti-depression” medicine.  At this time in my life it was an insurmountable mountain.  I was trying to adjust to college life…I was away from home for the first time…my parents were discussing divorce…I didn’t understand what was different about me…it felt like it just kept piling.  This age period in your life is terribly hard.  Trying to find your “place” in the world.  So I guess in a way, you could say I was saved this night, when without knowing it, I cried out for help, and thank God people heard me. 

I am not afraid to say I have needed anti-depressants since then.  We have a family history of depression on my mother’s side.  Mostly the women.  But it is there.  I honestly do not care what people think about that.  I have not been on medication for that many years.  Like the tide, it has ebbed and flowed as well.  It took many more years to realize the big culprit was PMDD (feel free to Google it) but about once a month I become a hormonal mess.  Once we got that dialed in, I could breathe again.

I am also not afraid to say that there have been many times that I thought not being in this world would be easier.  Ironically those times came as I got older and the hormones became more prevalent.  I have been in some really dark places.  Really dark.  I have hit rock bottom more than once.  There was a period during my ownership of the bar, which I can honestly say, was the darkest of my life.  A lot of major things were taking place in my life, all negative and the weight of that got too much to bear.  I made a lot of idol threats…threats I wish I would take back, however, to be honest, making the threats meant I didn’t have the guts (for lack of a better term) to go through with something like that.  I guess it was moments like those that I am blessed that I wear my heart on my sleeve and not bottle things up inside.  The person, who generally goes through with such a thing, doesn’t broadcast it.  It’s the last person you expect. 

The point is I am not proud to be able to say I could get to a place that dark.  A place where it hurt to breathe.  Everything hurt.  Even the hair on my head.  It is not a fun place to be.  And unless you have been there it is very easy to say, really, really stupid things like “don’t be selfish,” “why would you do that to the people that love you,” “what could possibly be that bad,” etc.  A depressed person doesn’t want judged.  Or compared to.  Or shown how bad things can really be.  When you are in that “space” there is nothing worse.  It can be the stupidest thing (to others) that causes you to get there.  Quite possibly the worst thing a person can do to a depressed person…to say their reasons for being sad are stupid.  Anything that causes a person to hurt is not stupid. No matter how trivial it may seem to others.

I cannot imagine what this family is going through right now.  I cannot imagine the questions that are being asked, how it could have been prevented.  She was 18 years old.  Would have been 19 the 29^th of this month.  And it is Christmas, of all holidays.  How can anything be that bad?  Who told her life, wasn’t worth the fight?  Because they were wrong.  There are very few things anyone can say to her siblings and parents that will make this better.  And for a very long time they will be in shock.  I don’t understand a lot of things.  I do understand depression.  And I understand that the hardest part in all of this, is knowing that she didn’t feel like anyone else did understand what she was feeling.  You cannot unless you have been there. 

If you have anyone in your life who tells you they are down, or who are unhappy, for whatever reason, just listen.  Don’t minimize it.  Don’t make light of it.  Don’t treat them like fools for not being able to sort it out.  Just listen.  Besides a hug, it truly is the best gift you can give.  If you cannot bring yourself to do so, find someone who can.  It is not what she said that needed heard, it’s what she didn’t say.  And because she didn’t outwardly have a gash in her head, or a broken arm, she couldn’t possibly have been hurting.  Wrong.  A broken arm probably would have been easier to heal.

SJ, I didn’t personally know you, but I hope you have found the peace you needed.  I am so very sorry that you felt so alone. I am sorry that you felt you had to leave the stage in the "middle of your song."