L. I. F. E. of P’s: Promises, but broken

Dear reader,

When someone suffers from a mental illness, they often have to go above and beyond to prove that they suffer from that mental illness. Because they are suffering from a burden already, they may decide that the burden of proof is something they do not want to bear as well. Sometimes they will tell one or two people and that will be enough for them. It is hard to know how each person deals with mental illness because even though it can be labeled the same: depression, anxiety, borderline personality disorder, PTSD, etc. it looks differently for each person with the same diagnosis. Our traumas, our love, everything we have gone through shapes everything about us. It’s why some people that suffer from depression choose to end their life and some don’t.

Alexandra Marie “Luna” Rezac.

My best friend in high school.

Cheerful, happy-go-lucky, loving, and caring.

She took her own life because like me, she suffered from depression in silence. It was actually one of the things that brought us together, aside from musicals, art, and technology. We met during our first period class the first day of high school and become best friends quickly. It turned out we had half of the same classes for the next few years. Although I started out in the theatre magnet program and accidentally got pulled out my second year, Alex and I remained just as close.

We bonded over so many things over the years. We shared so much, including some things we promised to take to the grave for each other. From day 1 I felt safe enough to tell her about my depression. Once she felt safe enough to tell me she had the same feelings, she made promise to take it to the grave. I kept that promise. Until today. And for the past 5.5 years I have been kick myself on a regular basis for it.

After Alex attempted to take her own life, she was rushed to the hospital. I was so relieved to see that she was still okay but I knew I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore. But then. She passed away from complications. Rather quickly. All over Facebook there came pouring in posts about how happy she had been and how no one had seen it coming. No one had any idea that she was so sad. No one had any clue she was depressed. She always seemed so happy. Why? She was such a light in so many lives. It made no sense to anyone.

But I knew. I have known for years. It made sense to me. I had seen the darkness. I had held her when she cried. I had comforted her on bad days. I had always known. And I had never told anyone. It was my fault. I could have helped. I could have stopped this. I could have kept this bubbly, happy light in everyone’s life. But I was selfish. I wanted to keep my promises. I wanted to keep my friendship pure. And now, on a regular basis, I find myself thinking of Alex; hating and blaming myself for not preventing such a tragedy that has affected so many lives.

I had the proof, dear reader. And I did nothing with it. I hid it away from the world. I was selfish with it. Because of that, a precious life has ended.

Because of my guilt, because I had the proof, and because I have my own burdens, I keep pushing through my own depression. I don’t want Alex’s life to have lost meaning because I fucked up. I have to live for her now. Plus, she loved Galaxy. They never got to meet, but Alex got to see pictures of her. Galaxy is my child and I could never leave her; but doubly so, knowing that I have to give her the love and pets from two people.

I know I screwed up by not telling anyone about Alex’s depression. But I also know that I still wouldn’t have told anyone else about it. It wasn’t my information to tell. It still isn’t. I actually asked her family for permission to share this post because it’s the closest I can get to asking her.

But I wish I would have encouraged her to seek more help outside of just tell me. I wish I would have given her more resources or snuck information into more conversations. I wish I could go back and do more. But I can’t. All I can do is live my life for her. And apologize a million times over to her parents and everyone else that I took her from.

I’m so sorry. I miss her too. She was my first real best friend. I love her. I will never forget her. I fight my own demons daily for her. That was another promise we had made to each other. To try our hardest, to keep fighting.

This is the only photo I have of us together, from her 19th birthday celebration. Today is her birthday. She would have been 31. Instead, I light a candle and add her photo to my memorial altar.