Happy enough
So …
Not only did a beloved colleague leave this earth on Saturday, but it appears a friend from high school took his own life somewhere between yesterday and today.
The latter is unconfirmed at this point, but I know. I always wondered. I watched his Facebook posts and knew he had a dark sense of humor. But I always wondered whether he were masking something deeper. Yet, I know how annoyed I get every time I say something dark and suddenly everyone jumps on suicide watch. So I never really probed.
I guess I should have.
I’m in the throes of a very acute depression. Look, I know things aren’t great. But I know they’re really not all THAT bad either. All this death isn’t really helping matters, but it’s only the cherry on top of a shit sundae at this point.
The friend we learned about today … damn. Actually a nice, good-looking guy who plays in a band. I ran into him a couple years ago at a hardware store called Busy Beaver. My mother had been scared out of her wits by a giant beaver cut-out and told my friend, who was ringing us up, “Your beaver scared me!”
He and I had a good laugh. Go, Mom. 🙂 He looked good. (I’m a sucker for the long-haired dudes.) He seemed happy enough, working a less-than-stimulating job that freed up his nights to play in his band.
Happy enough, indeed. Aren’t we all, though?
And now I’m seeing all these trite, trite messages posted on his Facebook wall. Sure, you can tell the heartfelt ones. He had some good friends, you can tell. But all the bullshit about “it gets better” and “I wish you would have called me,” I have to say, “Really?”
I mean, when I get down in the dumps and I get those lines, I roll my eyes. Fuck you, you don’t know the whole story. Screw you, just let me work out my sadness and I’ll be OK. Or, really, happy-positive “it’ll be OK” person? Are you just gonna shit some sunshine my way and keep on flying so you don’t have to hear what may or may not be behind whatever hunk of crap I spewed at a particular moment?
I’m not saying this about my friends, mind you. Just, when you open yourself up via social media, you get those people who don’t know you and never will … people who pat themselves on the back for crapping out some platitude … people who credit themselves with saving you from some abyss that you may not even have been contemplating?
I know, I’m going all over the place here. Yes, I have depression and it’s a little more intense right now than usual. No, I’m not jumping off the balcony. Yes, I’m going to say I’m ready to jump. Maybe I’ve contemplated it. No, I could not hoist my pudgy pork roast butt over the railing right now. Yes, I’m hanging in there for better days. No, I don’t know when they’re coming. Yes, I’ve talked to God about everything, and thanked Him for all His grace up till now and the grace I’ll receive in the future.
Anyway, I guess what I AM saying is that I’ve never been one to say the right thing to someone’s family when they die, because I don’t know what to say. Nor have I been particularly good at mitigating suicidal thoughts of others. I’m the friend you call when you want to vent about how bad things are without me interrupting too much. I’ll shoulder the load with you. I’ll share my hope that this ain’t as good as it gets. And I’ll tell you I love you no matter what your heart says to do, and that my phone is on any old time you need it.
A friend recently mused to me that she’s never really witnessed anyone showing me any sort of kindness. That made me sad. (Like I wasn’t already.) But I didn’t have the words at the time to say, no actually, I’ve gotten more favor than I’ve ever admitted. Sure, I’ve got shat upon … more than my fair share, there. But the blessings balance everything else out. You just tend to remember the hurts more because they seem to last longer.
Anyway, I like that “happy enough” thing. Between last night and today, three friends called out of the blue to give me an “atta girl.” They know me. They know I’m super-sensitive these days. They also don’t b.s. me. They’re not telling me “it’ll get better.” They’re telling me, “You will make it better.” We know the hand of fate is just as likely to deliver a bitchslap as it does a pat on the back. All we can do is buck up and live to tell our story one more day.
As one friend said, “Each day is wonderful. Some are more so than others.” I liked that.
Today is less wonderful than others. But it’s not terrible. Like I said, I heard from some wonderful people from my past, and not just by phone but also e-mail. The extended family is drawing closer together again. We lost one of our own and we need to know the others are OK.
And now, the high school friend. I don’t think I could have said or done anything to change his mind. But my heart does wonder whether I could have done something … stayed in touch or said a kind word that would have changed everything.
Naturally, I know there’s no turning back now and, even so, nothing little would have changed such a big outcome.
I’m just feeling small and helpless tonight, partially about the events in my own life but mostly about Everything Else. I can change my destiny. I still have time and the ability. Maybe I’ll never be ecstatic about my life. But happy’s OK. I’ll take it.
I’ve often said that I decided to move to Florida in big part because we lost Leanne. Now that we’ve lost Chip and Lynn, maybe I’ve just found my reasons to fight to stay. I love it here. I want to make it here. I’m tired of running away. I’m perfectly happy where I am. Now all I need is that thing to fight for that will keep me where I finally and truly want to be.