So this is hard for me to write and has weighed heavy on me, part of the reason making a new post was hard because this topic was on my mind, so I keep putting it off and putting it off. I have kept this in me for too long and shoved this to the back and buried it because I didn’t want to face it. To everyone this is about suicide so if affected by triggers please stop reading.
Scott,
You may be gone but you are far from being forgotten. After you died I haven’t been the same. I miss our talks and arguments about anything from religion to the state of the world and being dads. I miss hearing about your plans for the future and your adventures and trips with friends. And you brought me out of my shell more than a lot of people in my life ever had. You made me feel invited and a part of your family, never asking anything of me other than friendship, which also was a rarity for me. We were very different in many ways but you built me up. We even talked about me going on one of these trips with you.
And every year that passes brings me more reminders, more memories of conversations that we had. I can’t even think of how many times I have wanted to text you about something that happened or to bounce an idea off you and have to remember you are gone. I’m horrible with perception of time, things that are tied to emotions seem to lose their timeline in your mind, something that happened years ago feels like yesterday. And because of that you my friend feel like we just haven’t talked in a few weeks instead of it being 5 years. So I am left with putting this letter out there for you and hope where ever you are when we leave this world you see it.
I have been so fucking pissed off for so long now because you fucking left me. Yes I am being selfish on that thought and not everyone else that you left but me. How fucking dare you do that me. You showed me (along with some others) that I didn’t have to pretend to be someone I wasn’t. You fucking believed in me and gave me hope to open up about who I really am and to not let my negative thoughts grab ahold of me. You were the person that I could vent to, someone I could actually talk to and ask for an unbiased opinion. You would always give the unbiased and what you really thought taking me into consideration and how my brain works because your mind worked like mine does in a lot of ways. I’ve been angry that I lost that hope and sense of family when you died. I was angry about not having your input on things. But most of all I was angry that I was going down a similar path and you weren’t there to keep me from doing it. When you killed yourself, you in a sense invalidated everything you built up, for a little while I had a support network from some of the people close to you and few friends but of course life goes on and you have to learn to surf the tides of grief alone. I slowly lost it all, my writing started going away, I lost what confidence I built up, I lost hope to see a silver lining. I fucked up A LOT brother.
I made a lot of mistakes, started bringing myself around and working on me to be better. I achieved some things, some things worked out because one of our conversations actually worked out and we are engaged but there was a lot of bad before that happened and since. I turned to drinking too much, too often. I used it to numb myself from my feelings, to try and shut that fucker up in head. Sometimes it worked but overall all it did was ruin shit left and right. And since I was high functioning I got away with it for a long time and no one had the guts to challenge me on it, at least until my son did but by then I had fucked up so much shit man. I am still trying to fix things with my fiancee and my son.
I still don’t know why you took your life that night, what was in that head that was weighing it down so much that you did it, but I understand in my own way. I’ve been on the edge with the steel in my hand and have even said “Why the fuck not, Scott was positive so often and he lost the battle so why keep fighting” and in other ways I was killing myself just slower, drinking more, not eating like I should, smoking more, saying fuck it to meds for a few days if I forget them. I just didn’t care if I lived or died anymore. No one could see it from my eyes, no one can see it from my brain and my heart.
But we can’t undo what we have done, I can’t undo the last 5 years and go back and talk to about it. Because I understand more now, I can see how we didn’t know to ask the right questions or maybe we would have gotten you to talk instead of bottling it up. I understand because I have been there and in most regards I am still there, doing the same of holding in what is bothering you in because it’s your burden to carry. To take the burden from others without a word, to listen but sometimes not be heard when you speak. To over extend yourself and always put everyone else first. So yeah brother I can understand how you can drown in it all. It’s taken me too long to get here but we both know I’m a stubborn ass so I shouldn’t be surprised.
But I have let go of that anger and still have some of the grief but it is not hurting as much as it used to. Finally getting some therapy and help to deal with my issues, so now you are my reminder of why not to think about leaving. I am channeling my inner writer again as you can see here. Even finding my voice in some art. I still miss you brother and our talks and wish you were here to see who I will be without all the trauma affecting me. But I guess you will just have to read these from where ever you are and see.
Love you brother and will always remember you