Demon #1

I've felt pain quite like this before. And that's not to say that I haven't gone through a break up. Or that I haven't had some sort of heartbreak. But to know that it was caused by your own demons and a coping mechanism gone wrong...That's what sucks. To know you unintentionally caused the person you care about the most so much pain that they don't want to be with you anymore. And then wanting to fix it. The lack of control someone has in a breakup- that's what sucks the most. Knowing that you would do anything to restore to factory settings, but there's another person involved, and nothing is ever that easy. 

I didn't realize how bad it had gotten this time. How far down the hole I had slipped. I thought I was handling it. And, for the most part, I was. But then I started to fight with him. And suddenly, the person who had managed to talk me off the ledge was the ledge. And eventually, I jumped. And I broke him. 

I broke him in the worst way possible. I broke him to the point that I couldn't heal him. And I want to. I want to be the one to fix him so much. But I can't. And I'm terrified that it'll be some other girl, at some other time who gets that privilege. And I don't want that. Because when we were good, we were great. We fit together so naturally. Things made sense, talking was easy, our relationship was the most simple thing in my life. I felt home with him. And then I set the house on fire and cried about the mess I made. 

I guess I'm more like my past than I'd like to admit. I tried to manipulate what cannot be manipulated. And that's not who I want to be. The battle between who I want to be and the demon of my biological makeup is the worst one I've ever faced. And I let my guard down long enough for the demon to break free and destroy who I wanted to be. It's an ugly thing when your demons win. It's even uglier when you know they're there, and you give into their vices long enough to lose the battle to them. 

And I'm sorry. 

I cannot say enough how sorry I am. But I will fight to find myself and who I want to be again. I just hope that one day, you'll still want her. 

In memoriam: Jeremy Osmond-Bailey.

Jeremy, you seemed so happy this year. You felt better than you had felt in a long time, and you said that. You had so much life left to live, and you were living it. You had so many people helping you- whether you knew it or not. They were there for you, they wanted you to succeed. You may have made some mistakes, but who hasn't? Life isn't about being perfect, it's about making mistakes and learning from them to make yourself better for the next time around. I know you thought that you would just be forgotten, unimportant, and that life would go on as if nothing had happened. But you were wrong. Life may go on, but it's different now. There's a piece of the puzzle missing now. You will not be forgotten. Who could possibly think to forget you? You impacted more people in more ways than you think. Even those who barely knew you feel it. And none of us will have the answers as to why. What changed so quickly to make you decide to take your own life? That question will haunt too many of us. 

People say there are 5 stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. If this is the case, I felt them all at once this morning. In rapid succession the stages of grief hit my like a tidal wave. My ears didn't want to believe what they were being told- this couldn't have happened, it just didn't make sense, he was happier. And then, just as quickly as I denied the truth, I was angry. So angry. I wanted to scream about how selfish he was for doing it. That he was an idiot, how could he leave all of his friends and family behind like that? Then, I immediately thought that if I just fell back asleep, I'd wake up and it wouldn't have happened. Everything would be back to how it should be- he'd still be here. But that wasn't going to happen. And that hit me harder than the news itself did. It was real. It actually happened, and that couldn't be changed. It happened and that was that.

But none of that makes accepting such a sudden death any easier. None of that makes suicide make sense. None of us will understand why it happened. None of us will ever be able to make sense of it. He didn't want to talk to us anymore. He was gone before his life was even over, the decision already made. Nothing any of us said would have made any difference, and we can't blame ourselves for that.

It's never a joyous occasion to lose someone. Especially someone who suffered so much in silence that they felt taking their own life was the only way out. But we have to find a way to build off of this. Let this draw us closer, and not take for granted the relationship we had with him, and the ones we have with others. To keep living, to honor him by fighting the good fight, that's the best way to remember him.