I don’t want to be writing this post. Truth is, this is all a bunch of bullshit.
Just over a week ago, my best friend of almost 20 years lost her husband to suicide.
As my husband pointed out, John was without a doubt one of the kindest, most caring people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. He was the first man that treated Rachel the way she deserved to be treated and there was no question the connection they had.
I am devastated beyond belief for her, for the loss of their shared future.
Depression is a lying, manipulative murderer.
As you do, I’m stuck in a state of disbelief, questioning, and anger. Logically I know there was nothing any of us could have done, but it also doesn’t stop the what-if’s. All I can do now is mourn the loss and be there for my friend as much as possible. But it just doesn’t feel like enough. I wish I could wave a magic wand and make this better. I hate feeling so helpless.
It also brings up guilt, having experienced depression so suffocating myself. To know I almost reached that point myself. To know I made Bill fear for my life, and to see the repercussions of it so close to home… It really just shows how illogical depression is. That scares the shit out of me.
I don’t really know how to end this, outside of saying I will miss you John. I will miss your terrible puns, your genuine excitement and compassion, your obvious love for my best friend. I’ll see you on the flipside, if there is one.