In the previous post this one takes its name from, I wrote briefly about my struggles with the Monster known as Depression. Specifically, I wrote about looking into the abyss and coming back out of it, and why I came back out of it. What I didn't touch upon was how I came up out of it, and to do that, it requires going back to a very dark place in my timeline.
It's a year and change removed from my short stint in Post-Secondary Education. I'm in my room back home, glaring at the ceiling, mouth agape. I am wasting away. I am a failure. I've just made the decision to die.
And if I'd had access to a weapon, I absolutely would be dead right now. There are several reasons why I'm still alive and writing this right now. Not the least is the thought of how broken my family would be to find me that way and the fear of my baby brother cursing my name everyday for the rest of his life. But in that specific moment, even those thoughts weren't enough to quell the screaming need in my bones for my pain and suffering to END. I would have. But then, I got a message.
This message was from someone that readers may know as Lunchbox but whom I know as Isaac. I had his number, of course. We'd known each other since High School, but the idea of reaching out to him had never even crossed my mind, because I wasn't trying to reach out to anyone. Not my mother, not my former teacher, no one. He called with a word, and then with a job. He didn't know what was wrong with me at the time, but he knew I wasn't well at all. What I needed was something to do and he supplied that without pause or question.
In the depths of my despair - when thoughts of self-harm were the loudest - he would talk for hours, on the job and off, until I could breathe easy and rest without the fear of regressing. I don't feel it's an exaggeration to say that Lunchbox saved my life. Without his intervention, who knows how low I would have gone. There may have been no returning for me. Since then, we've watched and reviewed countless movies together, and written some, too.
Given the recent and very sad news, I felt a responsibility to share this message with you, as well as say thank you to my best friend, which I don't do nearly enough.
Most people know the Suicide Prevention Hotline. Those who are suffering a Depression should know now that it shouldn't be suffered alone. By some miracle I survived alone for three years, but that isn't the point. The point is I should have never done it to begin with. I should have reached out, but instead, I suffered in silence and that was the biggest mistake I could have made. It almost cost me everything.
For anyone else, on the outside looking in, you may be confused or conflicted about just what you could possibly do to help someone who has abandoned their will to keep living. Simpy put: talk to them. Not about how they're feeling. Not about if they're happy today. Just talk. It can be about your favorite team or TV show. It can be about something stupid that doesn't matter at all. Anything you can do to reinstate a sense of normalcy in their lives can only help them.
And you must be patient. The healing process is a journey, not a destination. The Depressed person in your life will not make it easy. Because mental illness is not easy. In some cases, the person will never not be unhappy, but that doesn't mean they have to be unwell. You don't have to talk to them everyday, but be consistent. Be a positive outside force in their life. That way, when the internal forces threaten them with all-consuming darkness, they will see your light and move toward it. And when they do reach out, be sure you are waiting and ready to grab hold and pull them to the surface.
My friend saved my life, and I'll be thankful for it with every day I have left on this Earth.
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