My friend died in a war.
I don’t know how to put it all down here. In fact, I have no intention of putting it all down here. But somehow I felt the need to put some verbage out there. Something… why? I’m not really writing about her. I’m writing about myself. Despite my refusal at so many twists and turns I have to acknowlege that somehow her story is inexstricably linked to mine. More like tangled or fused to mine.
Her war is now my war.
At the end of the day it was the lies that killed her. There were factors for her. There are factors for me. Biological factors. Social factors. Spiritual factors. But those aren’t what kill you. They are just places for the lies to get in.
I often think I would have been a woman who snuck out onto the battle field with the men. I would have charged. But this is not a war where the lines are neatly drawn. Where the sides are neatly labled and the banners flying high. It’s more like Vietnam. It’s hard to tell friend from enemy. I’m not talking about people. I’m talking about thoughts. It’s really hard to tell which thoughts will protect you and which one’s will stab you in the back the first chance they get.
Sometimes I think I’ve had so much time learning from her death that I’ve still never grieved it. Three years to the day. A blink and an eternity. But I’m still sifting through the ashes. The fallout.
I don’t believe that its a crap shoot. Sometime when we talk about depression as a disease it makes it sound like it’s cancer. Maybe you’ll get better. Maybe you won’t. I believe depression is a real thing. A real factor. Even a physical factor but I don’t believe that we’re left to chance. Like I’m left to chance. Maybe I’ll make it. Maybe I won’t. No that’s not a complete picture of what’s going on here.
The fact is there’s a war in my head. It’s the most complicated, icky, boggy mess I’ve ever encountered. At time I struggle to recognize friend from enemy. It’s one of the reasons I’ve determined to keep people around me and trust them when I just want to pull back and stick to what I can see. It’s hard to admit that sometimes my perception is terribly off. And it’s hard to trust others. But I don’t think I’ll ever win this war if I fight alone.
I don’t know where you are today. This is a selfish blog I know it. I didn’t write it to invoke sympathetic responses or to declare some holy resolution I’ve attained (But love is not a victory march. It’s a cold and it’s a broken halleluiah.) The resolution I feel is still a very fragile seed. I’m writing because I hope someone who doesn’t know me will read this. Someone who isn’t part of my life and trying to read through the lines to know what’s “actually” going on with me. Someone who is struggling with severe depression and despair… and I am screaming at the top of my lungs. REACH OUT!!!!!! Get other people in your head. Get them out on the battle field. Confess every morbid awful fear and thought you have. Let them sit beside you and sift it. Get a counsellor, get a pastor, get 70 year old person whose been through some stuff and still stayed soft and talk to them and listen. Oh, and get a doctor. A really good doctor. Get my doctor. She’s amazing.
The hardest thing is to trust someone else. Not being able to trust your own thoughts is perhaps the most scary and vulnerable place I’ve ever been and admitting that I’m there (even too myself) feels like dying. It feels like I can never come back from that reality. That if I can’t trust my thoughts now I’ll never be able to trust them and then I’ll never be at peace within myself. That can’t be true! We’re not at peace within ourselves now! We’re at war and if we are alone we are losing! Don’t fight alone.
Find people. Find God. Adopt a pet! Seriously, do anything other than nothing. The lies will kill you.
No more casualties of war.