Why

This is a letter I wrote a few years ago, for a friend of mine who ended his life when we were 19 years old. I’m hoping that sending this out into the universe will help me let go.

Dear M,

You were one of my closest friends that year.

Standing on the balcony, without looking at me, you told me that you were in love with me. I didn’t know what to say. I just didn’t feel the same way. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I knew I didn’t want to lie to you either. I told you the truth, and I could see the disappointment and hurt all over your face. When you walked away, I wanted to come after you, but I didn’t.

You were in the house right across from me. Before I fell asleep that night, I thought of you. I didn’t know that it would be your last night. Why didn’t I come see you? I should have come to you.

But I never got a second chance.

Why couldn’t I tell how you were feeling? I’m usually good at seeing beyond masks. So then why couldn’t I see past yours?

I’m so angry with you. Why didn’t you talk to me and tell me what was wrong? Why did you leave me behind? It’s not fair.

I had just been dealing with my dad’s suicide attempts. And then you went and succeeded. How was I supposed to feel when I had just lost a few of the most important people in my life over a 2 year period before meeting you, and had to deal with my dad, and then you?

But how can I be mad at you when I have been wanting to take my own life since I was a little girl? That makes me a hypocrite. But I never followed through. I stayed when every part of me wanted to leave this life. Why couldn’t you? Why did you have to leave? Sometimes I hate you.

I couldn’t even look your parents in their eyes at your funeral. How could I tell them that I was the reason you were gone? Because that’s how I felt at the time. That maybe I was the reason you finally gave up. Sometimes I still feel like that. It seems like the only explanation. I couldn’t bear to look at your picture. I just sat there. Numb. Empty.

I was so angry the day after you left, when they told us all that God had called you home. I wanted to stand up and yell at them. How dare they say that! That was the beginning of the end of my journey of faith. I know you would probably be disappointed, but I just can’t believe in a god that allows so much injustice and suffering.

Everyone else seemed to be over it after a few days, and carried on as if it had never happened. But I just couldn’t. Nothing felt real, and everything was a blur for the next few months. Life seemed to go on around me, people talking and laughing, my best friend didn’t even know how much I was struggling. I couldn’t talk about you. I wasn’t interested in anything. The voices all around me, seemed like they were miles away.

My heart is broken today.
Never again will I see your warm smile.
Never again will I hear your contagious laughter.

You were only 19. Your whole life was ahead of you.
You’ll never get to see another sunrise or sunset.
You’ll never get to feel the cool breeze on your skin.
You’ll never get to see the beauty of a baby being born.
You’ll never get to see the random acts of kindness that warm the soul.
You’ll never get to experience the love you deserved.

I’m so sorry for letting you down.

I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.

You’ll always have a space in my heart.

Love,
Rayne

When Denial Dies

Underneath the thin layer of denial, lies the truth which we already know, but choose not to see.

All it took was one look. One look to rip the skin away, revealing the hideous veins underneath.

Forcing the truth into the harsh glare of the light. A light which blinds me. Not the light at the end of a tunnel. Rather, standing on my knees in the tunnel. The harsh headlights of a car coming speeding towards me, with no intention of stopping.

The force as it hits. Images flashing through my mind. Only it’s not my life flashing before my eyes, because it’s not over yet.

Lying there. Broken bones, leaving me unable to move. Blood wrapping itself around me, like a blanket, leaving my soul empty and dry. Wanting to die. Yet knowing I will live.

I Tried. I’m Trying.

Where did I go?
I’m a stranger.

Waking up in the morning. Sitting outside with my coffee. Trying to be mindful and focus on the quiet and the cold air on my skin. Telling myself over and over again. “Today is going to be a good day”.
I’m trying.

The positive voice having been drowned out hour by hour. Exhausted with the effort of trying to keep it alive throughout the day. Going to sleep at night. Wishing not to wake up. I tried.

Wanting to join in the conversation. Can’t make sense of what they’re saying. Sounding so far away. Wanting to connect. Afraid to connect. I smile anyway, not hearing a word.
But I’m trying.

A touch on my back by someone non threatening. My blood running cold. Fear taking over. Backing away. The shock on his face. Wanting to apologize. The words wouldn’t come.
I tried.

I did all my work today. How? I have no memory of having done any of it. But I did it.
I’m still trying.

Emotionally empty. A thick fog surrounding me. Yet acutely aware of the physical. Feeling sick. Have to get up and move. Body aching.
I tried.

Cold inside. Frozen. Sitting in the sun. But the rays can’t penetrate.
I’m trying.

Getting confused about everything. Struggling to remember even why I’m doing what I’m doing in a given moment. Everything a blur. Doing grounding work. But I can’t focus.
I tried.

This heart, once so full of love and care. Now feels like a shadow. Maybe it’s been ripped out. Needing to find the light again. But it’s gone.
I’m trying.

I wanted to make her proud of me. Believe in me. Doing all the things we spoke about. I failed at it all.
At least I tried.

“Just keep breathing.” Breathing hurts.
But I’m trying.

I don’t want to be touched. I don’t want to be loved. I don’t want anything from anyone. I don’t want me.

Trying to be inspiring. Positive. Full of light. Love. But I can’t. Not today. I just don’t care.

Wanting to curl up on the cold floor. Just lay there for an eternity.

I don’t have the energy to think of suicide.

But that doesn’t mean that I don’t want to die.

My ‘Dear Death‘ post now feels like a distant memory. I’m writing a new letter. A simple one.

Dear Life
Let me go.

Dear Death

Dear Death,

You may think you’ve won. You tried to beat me down. You sent all the storms you could throw at me, trying to get me to give up. You knocked me down, you bruised me, but I got up again. You almost had me a few times, but I defeated you over and over again.

You sent an army. But I have something you’ll never have. I have Love. Love stood by my side. I was never alone.

You’re angry with me. Well, I’m angry too.

But I will use this anger to show you just how strong I am. To continue fighting your darkness.

You can throw all the bad memories and nightmares at me that you want. But I won’t give up. I may fall apart, I might break, but give up… I won’t give you the satisfaction. The power.

I may be overwhelmed and broken right now, but I will not give in to you. I will not be kept down. I will rise again, and when I do I’m going to take the world by storm.

One day you’ll get what you want. But not today.

Today I choose Life.