Where the Light Is

"Gravity has taken better men than me. Just keep me where the light is." - John Mayer

One of my friends has been going through a hard time. I tried my best to help. A lot of us did. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough. He decided to take his own life.

I got the phone call at work. My first reaction was NO. It can't be true. My second reaction was just to start crying. Which I did all night, this morning and that's not over yet.

The whole reason I had decided to be so open on this blog was to raise awareness. Most of my life has been completely embarrassing. And putting it out there definitely does not benefit me in any way. But if I could help anyone - ex-JW, someone living with mental health issues - that's what I wanted to do.

Bell does a "Let's Talk" day every year to raise awareness for mental health issues. This is not a one day a year issue. It's great that they do that. And it's great that a lot of you out there support the charities that support these people. My people.

If you really want to help though, it takes more than writing a check. Or showing up at a fundraiser. It takes all of us to educate ourselves, to be alert to the warning signs, to make those one on one connections with the ones who suffer. Listen, be there for them, help them get the help they need.

This old school mentality has got to go and make room for awareness and acceptance. Some of the comments I've received in the past day just reinforced that for me. "He was so selfish." "Was he on drugs?"

I realize that drug and alcohol abuse can be factors in the equation sometimes, but not always. Sometimes people just get dealt a bad hand in life and they get very sad.

As far as the selfish comments go, yes, maybe it is selfish, but try looking at it from the other perspective. I've been through it. I've tried to kill myself. I wasn't trying to hurt anyone. I didn't send out angry messages or write a letter blaming anyone. Sometimes, we are pushed beyond our capacity for pain. When that happens, we can end up in a place where we never wanted to go. A dark place. Where there's no light at the end of the tunnel. Where the hurt is so bad, all we want is for it to stop. Where as much as we genuinely love the people in our life, we don't care anymore that they will cry tomorrow. It just needs to be over. For us.

I've been so lucky. The second time I became suicidal, I didn't just take four bottles of pills and go to bed. I asked for help and I had a network that rallied around me. A workplace that supported me. Aunts and Uncles to go home to, who took care of me until I was no longer a threat to myself. A $200/hour therapist who first cut his fees in half and then just treated me for free.

Not everyone is that lucky. Although my friend had loving friends, he obviously didn't have the support he needed. Over the past couple of weeks, he kept telling me how much he valued our friendship. He wasn't angry, he was just sad. He kept telling me how much he looked up to me, how strong he thought I was for getting through my challenges in life. How proud he was of me.

I've been where he was and I still misread the signs. I thought he was saying those things because I was inspiring him to get better. Now, I think it was because he didn't feel like he would ever get there.

All I'm asking of all of you out there is please, please be alert. 1 in 4 Canadians have suffered or are suffering from depression. Watch for the signs. Be patient and kind. Pick up the phone when they call even if you're rolling your eyes and thinking you don't want to listen to this story again. You just might save a life.

He called me on Wednesday. I was volunteering at a charity event all day. I didn't pick up, I thought, I'll just call him back later. Later was too late.

We all struggle with the back and forth between the light and the darkness. When you're in the light, shine it on others. That way, when you're in the dark, there will be someone around to show you the way back out.

Sullivan out.

Suck it up, Buttercup

January 28th was Bell "Let's Talk" day. I meant to write a blog about it but if you follow me regularly, you'll know I haven't been writing much these days. The statistics are...well..sad to be honest. Over 3 million Canadians are suffering from depression at this moment. One in five will experience it at some point in their lives. And I think the numbers are probably skewed because there is so much of a stigma attached to admitting you have a problem. 

Y'all know I went through it - to an extreme extent - myself. The last couple of years? My old friend hasn't really bothered me. The anxiety never went away. He's an asshole. The depression though, was gone. I never cried. I didn't feel sad any more than any "normal" person does. And there wasn't anything some Ben & Jerry's and a chat with a friend couldn't cure.

Last Saturday though, it came back. The pacing around the apartment at 4 am. The panic attacks. The constant crying. The events that triggered it - I should have seen it coming. But I didn't. I was in such a great place. I was getting up really early every morning. Taking the dog out. Doing yoga and practicing meditation. I felt between my job, my friends and having my JW family back in my life and me as part of theirs, I finally had everything I could have hoped for since I decided to walk away from that old life 5 years ago. 

That religion though is exactly like the song Hotel California. "You can check out any time you like but you can never leave." And unless you are very, very lucky, you cannot walk between the two worlds and think you can have both. I have been subject to a lot of criticism, a lot of hate on this blog for trying to do that. I understand why so many ex-jws are hurt. I understand why some of the people who are disfellowshipped would be upset with me for publicly not completely disassociating myself with that group. 

My girlfriend wasn't invited to her sister's 10 year anniversary party. My invitation was rescinded to my sister's wedding. Honestly? I didn't really want to go anyway. The thought of walking into a Kingdom Hall makes me need an Ativan. I did spend months though getting myself strong enough to do it - for her. Thus all the yoga, all the meditation, all the positive thinking. 

All families are a little bit crazy. Like it or not though, we are hardwired to love them. And I do. This hurts. It hurts like my heart was ripped out and chopped up in front of me. But I'm not angry. I'm sad. And I can't tell you how many people have caught me crying at my desk at work this week. 

You know what I've learned? That even when it gets this bad, I'll never try to hurt myself again. Because now, I know for a fact that it goes away. That soon, I'll feel better. Depression lies to us but if we know it's lying it takes away some of its power over us. My best friend is getting married in May, so I will have somewhere else to wear that really pretty dress I bought.

My friends, colleagues and non-JW family have rallied up and supported me this week. I have the kindest people in my life that I could wish for. My girlfriend immediately booked a ticket to Toronto so I won't be alone that weekend. Another friend begged me to come spend it with his family in Montreal. My family back home bought me a plane ticket since I've already booked that week off work. My roomate took down all the family pictures while I was at work until I feel like I can look at them again. 

So I'll suck it up. There's little things that help. I've been wearing the necklace my brother bought me - a cross with a switchblade in it. I've had two sessions with my therapist instead of one. This was not a stellar week. Next week? Will be better. :)

Sullivan out.