You Are Loved

I often have blog ideas rolling around in my head. Sometimes I write part or all of a piece and save it as a draft to be published at a yet to be determined time in the future or not at all. Sometimes I just need to get my snark out in writing before tucking it away, never to be seen again.

I've been so busy this last year, and I have a blog that I've started and stopped repeatedly about the business of busyness. I couldn't wrap my head around exactly what I wanted to say, but I'm struggling with what to say when people ask how life/work/etc is. My canned response is "busy" because it's true, and it's the first thing that pops into my head. But I don't want to live a life where my constant first thought is how busy I am.

This week's schedule is brutal. I have meetings layered on top of meetings. I have crises layered upon crises. I left City Hall last night after 9 p.m., and when my alarm went off at 4:45 for the gym I was feeling...well, busy. (And also exhausted). 

My husband called me during an early meeting, and I was surprised because he generally doesn't call often during the work day. I called him back after, and he informed me that a friend of ours had committed suicide. I bent forward in my desk chair, feeling nauseous, not even knowing how to react or take in this news.

This is the second time in the last few years I've had a friend take his own life, and it feels like being punched in the face. This wasn't a friend I saw every day, but he was someone who I'd grab drinks with and talk about politics or sports (his brother went to West Virginia so he was also a fan). He always had a huge smile. He was smart, witty, funny, sarcastic, and a seriously good human. He had just taken a new job a few weeks ago, and I texted him congratulations. We exchanged snarky, hilarious texts, and that was the last time I heard from him. 

I do not understand. My mind keeps running through these horrific morbid scenarios. I keep thinking of how his family must be feeling. I keep thinking of his new colleagues and the hole left there. I keep wondering why. Why was death a better alternative than whatever demons he was fighting? So many people love him. Why?

I have friends struggling with depression and anxiety, those brutal forces who rear their ugly heads and make amazing people question themselves and their worth. I hope that anyone reading this who thinks their life isn't worth living takes a minute. Talk to someone even if it's not someone you're extremely close to. Because I guarantee, I absolutely guarantee that you don't know how many people love you.

I know suicide is obscenely complicated, and there are never answers that make sense. And to him that was the only way out. I wish I could tell him how much everyone loves him. Today there are people who are heartbroken. This was not the only way. This couldn't have been the only way

I feel numb. After the news I looked at the blocks of my calendar and couldn't connect with the angst and stress I felt earlier in the day. It may have been months before I'd seen him again, but knowing that a friend is gone like that is shocking.

My friends no matter your life situation you are loved. Even in your darkest moments you are not alone. Call someone. Text someone. Reach out. The people who love you will love you despite your demons. Because we all have demons. All of us. You don't have to handle yours alone. Your battles were insurmountable to you my friend, and I hope you can rest easy now. 

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