We live in a world where we put on the best face and put our best foot forward. Appearances are valued and we don't like to let people in enough to really know us. I am guilty of not being open with my friends about what troubles me, and I know I am not unique.
We are afraid. Afraid to share what is hurting us. Why is this so? Why can't we feel comfortable turning to our friends and family when we are hurting most? Even when we do, we don't often share the full story. At least that is what I believe to be true. It is too embarrassing to share that we are far from perfect. It is too scary to show how vulnerable we can be. When our minds betray us, we more often hide away than we ask for help. I know so few friends who are strong enough or brave enough to really ask for help. Most can't, or don't know how.
Every person I know or have known, has some level of "mental illness". Be it a case of the blues, anxiety, depression, schizophrenia, PTSD, dementia, or any other mental 'disorder'. Why are we unable to share these things? I certainly have battled anxiety and depression, and I am not unique. Mental illness is just that - an illness. An illness that should be treated properly, followed up on, and people with this family of illness should be considered no different than those with another type of illness. We don't shun diabetics, we don't shy away from talking to people with crones disease, so why do we get so funky when it comes to dealing with mental illness? Mental illness can be fatal if left untreated. This is as serious as any other disease.
Why am I posting about this today? Today I learned that yet another person we care about has died. My heart is broken for the family, and for the pain that our friend was in that led them to the conclusion that death was the option. This should never be an option, but when you are so trapped in your mind that it seems the only safe way out, it becomes the culmination of the illness. I do not believe this friend chose to die. I don't believe it is a choice, any more than when a stroke victim doesn't survive - it is a disease that can kill. We need to be able to talk about it, and to be there for our friends and family. I am so sad for our friend, for their family, and for the pain that brought this friend to such a heartbreaking end.
I don't know the whole story. I am sure there is much to it that I don't know. I am sure I will learn more as the week goes on. With that said, I wish you peace, old friend. If you could not find it in this life, I truly hope you find it in the next. You will be missed in this one. This I know.
