Depressed? Please read.

My experience with death has been limited, especially as a 40 year old.  But that I have experienced is deeply impactful, as I'm sure it is with everyone.  

Before 2011, my only real loss (luckily) was my Great Grandmother, who lived a long life of 100+ years.  As sad as it is to say goodbye to anyone, when GG has lived 100+ years, you figured, "yep, that's about right, she had a good life."  Now, that in and of itself may sound callous when you refer to the dead, but it's also how we cope with this natural cycle.  

In the aforementioned year, I lost my college roommate and best friend, 13 years after college.  He and I had gotten into Naval flight school after college - a goal of mine from age 13 - on the same day we also passed our U.S. Coast Guard test for our 3rd Mate's license. It was the best day.  My father picked us up and we ditched the rest of the day's classes to drink beer and celebrate.  But, to most people's surprise, I chose not to go active duty and instead took my commission in the Navy Reserve (orders for flight school didn't actually kick in until you showed up for day 1) and a job in the private sector.  He reported to Pensacola in July 1998 and eventually got his wings of gold after years of intensive training.  I was proud of my best friend.  Shortly after that, he went back to New York for another classmate's wedding and ended up getting hit by a car while crossing the street.  The police responded and wrote the accident up as a homicide, as they didn't think he was going to make it.  But he did.

Fast forward a few years.  My friend was still in the Navy, but had been grounded due to the head injury he received in the accident (meaning he never flew again) and became understandably depressed.  But as he did, my buddy rallied and fought with all of his might to better himself.  He met a Navy doctor.  They married.  I was happy, he was happy.  I still remember a Facebook post of his, "I love my wife, I love my life." Then, the call.

Out of nowhere I received the phone call from his wife's mother informing me my friend was gone.  One day after Valentine's Day.  When I learned how it happened, I couldn't believe it.  My best friend, the life of the party, the one that made everyone laugh, was dead by his own hand.  No more phone calls, no more Facebook comments telling me how I "better get my ass out to San Diego to visit" (damn, I'm sorry I never did). Instead, I hopped on a plane and met my friends, most of whom I hadn't seen in over a decade, and we memorialized our loss.  I was asked to give a speech - a eulogy of sorts.  It wasn't the easiest thing to do, but I did it and cried the whole way through. 

That has by far been the hardest thing I've ever had to deal with.  I still tear up writing these words.  I want to know more.  What happened?  Was it just the head injury? Troubled marriage?  Trouble sleeping?  Why didn't you call me?  Why didn't you call me!!?!?!  WHY DIDN'T YOU CALL ME?!?!?!?!??!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

Unfortunately I know there will be more experiences like this.  It's life.  Death is a part of life.  I just hope that my future losses are the "expected" ones.  Old family members dying in their beds surrounded by all of us who love them.  

I wish this for everyone, although I know it's unrealistic.  And by God, if you're so depressed that you're thinking about ending your life, call someone.  Call anyone.  If you've hit the bottom so hard that you think that suicide is your only option, the only way to go, even though you can't see it, is up!  Reach out for help.  You're not alone. Someone, somewhere, will write similar words in a therapeutic effort to lessen their pain over losing you if you go through with it.  

Sorry, I didn't mean for this story to become what it has, but then again, life is unpredictable sometimes.  Remember that.