The Best of Friends
I never knew what I would encounter on any given day as I walked through the halls of my high school.
On the first day of my Freshmen year, I remember feeling self conscious and unsure of myself as I looked for my first class. It didn’t help matters any when one of the Seniors, thinking he was being cute, yelled out for all to hear, “Hey, little girl … Kindergarten is over there …” as he pointed across campus.
Laughter followed by those that overheard his remarks, and there was even some finger pointing as well. They acted as if they had never seen a short person before. I just kept right on walking, looking down so as not to make eye contact with anyone, especially those that were making fun of me.
As the school year progressed, I stayed mainly to myself. It was an awkward time in my life. I wanted so badly to “fit in” but couldn’t have stood out more!
Then, one day between classes, I saw a girl about the same height as me with long brown hair. She appeared to be new at the school, and she walked with that all familiar look just as I had on my very first day of high school. With her head down, trying not to be noticed, she’d glance up ever so often to see if anyone was watching.
I can’t remember who spoke first, but the “short” girl with long brown hair became my very best friend in the whole world! Her name was Robin.
When Robin entered my life, it didn’t matter that I no longer seemed to “fit in” with anyone else because I fit in with her!
We seemed to always be together. If I wasn’t at her house, she was at mine. We even got our very first job together in high school at a fast food restaurant. We did everything together!
I had never felt so accepted before or so much a part of something as I did when Robin and I became best friends. We could tell each other anything! We’d laugh at the silliest of things, even getting the case of the giggles just by looking at each other.
Ah, yes … I have fond memories of Robin.
We seemed inseparable … up until the point where she got her first really serious, steady boyfriend. We tried to still hang out and even double date, but Howard claimed the majority of her time. I was understanding, yet admittedly sad that it seemed I was losing my very best friend in the entire world … while she was gaining a relationship she poured her whole being into.
As time and circumstances would have it, we slowly drifted further apart. And, I returned to no longer fitting in with others.
After graduation, I received a phone call that I will never forget. The person on the other end of the line called to tell me that Robin was dead. She died in a car accident. I remember holding the phone but being completely frozen, unable to move. I managed to breathe, although I still am not sure how at that point in time. I listened to the words coming through the phone and into my ears, and yet, I was having trouble comprehending what the person was saying.
My best friend from high school was … gone.
Shortly thereafter, I received a phone call from Robin’s sister confirming the news. She was so much younger than us, yet she reached out to let me know what happened and of the funeral arrangements. Her family even offered to allow me to ride with them several hours away to where Robin would be laid to rest. I seriously contemplated but later denied their offer. I preferred to keep the memories of Robin alive from happier times, not to see her in a casket. It wasn’t long after this phone conversation with her sister that I received another phone call from a “friend” asking if I was going to the funeral. When I said, “No …” I received such judgment in return with the “How COULD you even think of not going to the funeral? You were her BEST FRIEND!” Oh yes, judgement is surely what I needed at a time like that! Even still, I was firm in my decision. To this day, I have not regretted it either.
A few weeks ago, Robin’s sister found me on Facebook! She sent me a message followed by a friend request. Tears welled up in my eyes as I read her message. She was only seven years old when I first met Robin and started going to her house. Little Charity would follow us around as she wanted to be included. I never had a younger sister – but an older one – so I thought it was cute having her follow us around. Robin was not entirely amused by it, though.
Charity and I talked in messages, and we shared memories of Robin. She and I both cried a little during our conversation.
One thing that Charity and I have in common now, and oh how I wish we didn’t, is the fact that both of us have lost our one and only sibling – our older sisters! I’d like to think that our sisters found each other in Heaven and are friends keeping each other company until we get there. My sister had a problem with fitting in as well, and I’d like to think that Robin helped her feel at ease and welcome in her presence just as I felt when we became fast friends years ago.
I never had a friend like Robin before, and I doubt I ever will again. I didn’t have very many female friends that I hung around because it seemed that drama followed. Imagine that – drama and teenage girls – yep, it is still that way today as I’ve watched my own daughter struggle to fit in and to escape the drama that other girls bring with them. During the better part of our friendship, though, it wasn’t like that with Robin at all. We truly were best friends!
As a forty-something year old adult woman, I still have feelings of not fitting in, and I doubt I’ll ever feel so at ease and have such peace within a friendship again as I had with Robin. Just when I started to feel sad about this again, I stumbled across a message that said, “I never intended for you to fit in. ~God” Wow. God really does know what you need, right when you need it. I feel like He honestly sent that message to me right when I needed it most today. Maybe I truly am not meant to fit in with others, for “fitting in” might mean going the way of the world instead of following Him. I’d rather NOT fit in then, instead, I’d rather stand out or just be a loner. At least with being a loner, there isn’t quite so much drama to deal with. At other times, I think it would be nice to have a friend to have lunch with or get together for some girl talk occasionally. I know deep in the back of my mind, though, that no one will ever fill the void that came about with losing my very best friend in the whole world.
Today has been filled with memories and a few tears. As I reflect, I am thankful for the “short” girl with long brown hair that allowed me to fit in with her during those rough high school years. We were, indeed, the best of friends, and oh the memories I will forever hold close to my heart!
In loving memory:
I Am Not Ashamed
On April 7, 2016, we would like to see #IAmNotAshamed trending all over social media. Why? Because, we would like to raise awareness for mental illness and suicide prevention. This is for any one that HAS a mental illness or has a friend or family member that they love with all of their heart that has a mental illness. This is also for any survivors of suicide loss. It is for anyone that has ever contemplated suicide, and it is to encourage others to reach out. You do NOT have to be silent any longer.
There was once a time when people were so ashamed if they were diagnosed with a mental illness. They felt as if society would shun them, and often times, they did due to not understanding mental illnesses. People were uneducated about them and afraid of what they did not understand. I have a friend right now who has been battling with her Bi-Polar diagnosis for YEARS. I’m talking 30 plus years. She knew early on that something wasn’t quite right, but she could not put her finger on it. After years of being misdiagnosed, often times being told that it was “all in her head” as if she were making it all up, she felt so much shame over what she was going through. When she was officially diagnosed and began treatment, she had a mixture of great relief tied in once more with a tremendous amount of shame. Yet, no one asks to be mentally ill no more than anyone asks to be Diabetic. Why, then, is it more acceptable in the world to be Diabetic, yet people who are suffering from mental illness hang their head low and are eat up with guilt and shame? No one ASKS for this. It is a hand that has been dealt to them, and they are trying to cope the best way they know how. It would help if society did not label them, shun them, or act as if they need to be locked away from the rest of the world forever. In some cases, there are individuals that do need supervision thus the need for special inpatient care. However, others are extremely high functioning individuals, just as my friend I was talking about earlier. She holds herself together quite well in public to the point that you would never even imagine that she has a mental illness. She is highly educated, having earned her Masters Degree, and she presents herself in a polite and dignified manner. Yet, inside, it is a constant struggle each and every day to get out of bed and simply function. WHY should she walk around full of shame over her diagnosis? She sought HELP, and that is the most important thing right there. Yes, she has a mental illness, but she sought help! AND she is on medicine now that they finally got her diagnosis right AND have the right combination of medicines in her system to help. She has to take medicine for the rest of her life, but she should not have to feel ashamed no more than a person taking medicine to maintain and help their diabetes.
A few years ago, a young lady that is very near and dear to my heart reached out for help! She was struggling with depression, and it took a LOT for her to admit this. I’ll never forget us driving down the road just randomly talking about anything and everything when she suddenly fell silent. I noticed her voice began to shake when she finally started to speak as she asked, “Does depression run in families?” I knew exactly why she asked this as her grandmother and aunt suffered with depression. I realized the seriousness of the situation and that she wouldn’t have just randomly asked this question. I eased into this subject matter, and soon she revealed her struggles. Little by little, she opened up. As she shared, I knew she needed to be seen by a medical professional immediately. I did not want to push her or scare her away, so I listened as she began opening up more and more. We talked for a long time, and finally I asked if she would be open to speaking to a healthcare professional. Thankfully, she was, and we made an appointment the very next day. I told her I’d go with her to the appointment, and I did. The doctor started her on anti depressants and referred her to a counselor. I went with her to the counselor’s appointment as well for moral support. She began taking the medicine daily and talking with the counselor on a weekly basis. She was so brave for admitting that she was struggling! She took such a courageous step in getting the help she needed! Today she is thriving and enjoying life to the fullest, and I couldn’t be more proud of her!
I also know someone that has a lot of anxiety. I used to be JUST like that, eat up with it at times. There was a time when I was ashamed of how out of control my anxiety would get, but then I realized that I had to get to the source of what was making me feel so anxious. The root cause was that I was in an unhealthy, toxic environment at work that was not helping. Actually, that is when the anxiety surfaced and grew worse. When I wasn’t working, I did not have the anxiety or panic attacks. But going into work each and every day to coworkers that took great pride in throwing things across my desk, placing things over what I was currently writing when I was on the phone with a client, and barging into my office unannounced making demands on me when I was working on payroll and confidential information … just to name a few of the things that I had to put up with on a daily basis … added to my anxiety to the point that I started to dread going into work because of what I knew I would face that day. I understand that counselors say that I was causing my own anxiety within myself when I would think of these situations or would be put in these types of situations. It was my thoughts about the situations that caused my anxiety, yet WHY did the people doing this NOT respect me enough to treat me BETTER? That is what I could not understand. I would never treat someone like this, and yet here I was subjected to it every … single … day! Monday through Friday of EVERY week! I thought I would give the people the benefit of the doubt as maybe, just maybe, they didn’t realize what they were doing or how they were coming across. Maybe they were just stressed and it was coming out in this way without their knowledge. However, when I spoke to them about it, they let me know that they were aware of how they were coming across yet did not care because their actions toward me were NOT going to change. So I was expected to continue to put up with this behavior? Ah, I think NOT! I tried to deal with it the best way I knew how because I LOVED my job. I did not enjoy being mistreated by my coworkers, but I enjoyed the work that I did. I had a counselor that I worked with tell me that if I can’t change the situation, I needed to change the way I viewed the situation. While it was true that I could not change my coworker’s actions and behavior toward me, I did have the power to change the situation. When you’re in an unhealthy, toxic environment that isn’t going to change – even after attempting to talk to management over it – the only choice you have is to stay and put up with it or LEAVE … and can you guess which one I chose to do? I LEFT! I took control of the situation when the individuals would not change, and I LEFT! I removed myself from that toxic environment. It took a lot for me to finally throw in the towel and say that I just would not subject myself to this treatment each and every day. BUT it has been one of the best things I could have done! It was only after watching Julie Robert’s movie, “Eat, Love, Pray,” that I came to realize that things needed to change in my life … and change they DID!! Why continue to go into a job where they treat you this way? The question of the century is: WHY wouldn’t management do anything about it? I have no idea, but that is why the bullies get worse! They are allowed to continue with their mistreatment of others because the “higher ups” won’t do a darn thing about it. I was once eat up with anxiety, taking anti-anxiety pills like they were candy to try to cope with the mistreatment from others. However, when I left that job, I NO LONGER had to take those pills! The anxiety seemed to fade away, and it was confirmation that what I did by quitting that job was the best thing for me and my family! There was once a time when I was ashamed that I had issues with anxiety, and I was told I was “too sensitive.” But, NO MORE! I speak freely of the anxiety that filled my body so that others will know that they can speak freely themselves! You do not have to remain a prisoner! I encourage you to reach out for help if you feel that you have an overwhelming amount of anxiety in your life. IF you need help coping, so be it! ASK for it! Even if you only have to take the medicine for a short amount of time, that is what it is there for!! You don’t have to worry about becoming dependent upon it. It can be used short term, and then you can taper off of it when it is no longer needed. I just praise God that I left that toxic work environment four years ago, and PRAISE GOD I haven’t taken an anti-anxiety pill since!
I also want to speak to you from the standpoint of being a survivor of suicide loss. My sister took her own life after suffering with Postpartum Depression. I feel that if my sister had been in her right mind, this never would have happened. She wouldn’t have intentionally inflicted this pain upon our family. She would not have left her two week old daughter without a mother. Had she been in her right mind, she would still be here. I believe that to this very day! My sister suffered – in silence – as most people do that have Postpartum Depression. They are so consumed with guilt and shame as this is supposed to be the happiest time in their lives when they have a little baby! Yet, they are truly struggling and are afraid to reach out for help. Oh how I wish my sister had reached out. I wish she had let us know before it had gotten to the point to where she felt helpless in her struggle. I wish she had let us get her help before she took matters into her own hands. If I could turn back the hands of time, she would still be here with us as I would have moved Heaven and Earth to get her help … if she had only reached out at that critical moment when she felt all hope was lost. I imagine she felt ashamed that when she should have been so overcome with joy, she was consumed with grief. Postpartum Depression is hard to understand, for the person going through it and the person watching their loved ones suffer. But, please know that you don’t have to be ashamed … if Postpartum Depression has touched your life, you don’t have to sit in silence. You don’t have to be a statistic. You don’t have to take matters into your hands. Help is available! Please talk to someone and let them know how you are truly struggling so you can get the help you need. IF you are a family member of someone that has just had a baby, please watch them carefully and be there … just be there with them and for them as much as possible. IF you notice ANYTHING out of the ordinary, don’t wait – get them help immediately. Be there for them and let them know that they do not need to be ashamed to ask for help.
That’s the point I want to make in this post today. It takes a very strong and courageous person to admit that they need help! There is NO shame … NONE whatsoever! HELP IS AVAILABLE! You do not have to suffer in silence. Please, reach out and get the help you need. Take that step! I did with my anxiety, and my friend did with her mental illness. Now, I encourage you to as well.
Will you join me and many others today? Stand up and say, “I am not ashamed!” In doing so, you just might be the encouragement that others need to prompt them to reach out for help! Get to talking about mental illness. Talk about anxiety and depression. Let’s also talk about Postpartum Depression. Let’s bring awareness to suicide prevention!
If you, yourself, are struggling, talk to a friend or loved one – ask for prayer from your pastor – and call your doctor to make an appointment. HELP IS AVAILABLE! Please, reach out!
#IAmNotAshamed
The Blues
Today I had the case of the blues. We had so much fun on Spring Break this past week that it was bound to happen, I suppose.
The house was too quiet with my husband returning to work, my oldest daughter returning to college and my youngest returning to school. I was left with just my doggies, who really are tremendous companions during the day, and my thoughts.
Thoughts are funny little creatures. I’d like to know what happens to send signals for the different thoughts that run through our heads on any given day. Why can’t we funnel in only good thoughts while not allowing bad thoughts to creep into the crevices of our minds and linger there?
For some reason today, my thoughts lingered to my sister and the day we lost her. She is never truly too far from my thoughts. I have pictures of her displayed proudly in my bedroom as well as in other areas of the house, so she is constantly “with” me.
I have a portrait of the two of us together right by my vanity. As I’m putting my makeup on in the mornings, I can glance over at the two of us pictured together in 1996. Never in my wildest dreams would I have ever imagined how the next five years would turn out. While smiling and laughing on a day that my parents requested we go for family portraits since we were adults, to heart breaking, life shattering pain that would follow just a few short years later.
I know for me, my life seemed to be in a whirlwind during that time period. I wonder some times if that is why I did not have a clue what was truly going on with my sister toward the end. For a time, I seemed consumed by the troubles in my life not realizing that her life wasn’t as picture perfect as it appeared on the outside.
One of the absolute happiest days of my life was the day I had my first child. Oh, 1997 was so amazingly beautiful as I welcomed my blonde haired, blue eyed darling into this world. The year of “firsts” was magical, and I enjoyed all things having to do with mother and child. I was basking in the happiness of motherhood as I rocked my little darling in my arms, singing to her as I smiled so proudly and thanked God for her.
The year 1998 brought about a divorce that I did not see coming, and the next two years seemed to drag on forever as we went through a long, drawn out court case. It was really supposed to be a “simple” divorce, but bitterness grew from my ex and it was anything but simple at that point. After swearing off men forever during this two year period, my divorce was finalized in 2000. Slowly, I allowed love to persuade me to give it another chance, and I soon began dating my now husband.
I felt like I was emerging after a horrible nightmare. The monsters chased me and tried to take me down over those two years, but in the end, evil did not win. I actually remember praying before going into the courtroom for the final hearing, “God, please do not let evil win.” And … He did not allow evilness to prevail. God saw me through that ordeal, and I knew that He would walk beside me no matter what I had to face in this life. Little did I know of what was on the horizon …
After feeling like a prisoner that had been held captive all of that time against her will, I was finally free …
Free at last, free at last … thank God, Almighty, I’m free at last! Yes, I did actually quote those words that went down in history from the late Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
One of my fondest memories is of the day my sister pulled into the parking lot at my workplace in her black Firebird. As I went out to greet her, she stood by her car like the cat that ate the canary. She handed me an item wrapped ever so nicely that I felt a tad bit guilty as I ripped open the paper. In her special way, she let me know she was pregnant by the silver baby picture frame I now held in my hands. Excitement came over me as I squealed loudly and then hugged her around her neck, holding her there for a few minutes as I smiled from ear to ear as we celebrated together.
She allowed me to be there for this very special moment in her life. The entire time she was pregnant, I got to be there as she told of the doctor appointments, the ultrasounds, and right up until she delivered my beautiful niece on a hot summer day in June of 2001.
And then … our world shattered two weeks later in July as my sister took her own life. Postpartum depression took it’s toll all too quickly and claimed another life. She had more than just a case of the blues, but no one truly knew how bad it was … until that day … when it was too late to do anything to save her.
I often wonder if I was too consumed in my own “stuff.” Guilt tries to creep in, and shame tries to take me down. Was I that self absorbed that I didn’t even notice? Or, did she truly just hide it that well. Honestly, not to let myself off the hook too easily (believe me, it has taken a LOT to get me to this place today as I did blame myself so much in the beginning), but when someone is planning, they are good at keeping that part hidden well. We never had a clue that she would ever do anything like this. Not in our worse nightmares would we ever have thought this of her. She was too brilliant, too full of love, and she had so much to live for!
I’m reminded that there is no condemnation in Christ. NONE. So when the devil tries to whisper in my ear all of these “shoulda – coulda – woulda’s” as my husband calls them … I have to squash every single one of those thoughts. I have to take each one and slay them as they try to enter in. I … can’t … I just can’t. After almost 15 years, I have managed to handle those thoughts as they assault me. There is no greater blaming than what a “survivor” does after they lose someone to suicide. I’m what is known as a survivor of suicide, one of the loved ones that was left behind. I “survived” while she did not. And there is a question as to why there, too. Why am I still here while she’s not? Then I am reminded that God has a purpose for my life.
There is purpose in the pain also.
It may be hard to understand why anyone has to go through losing a member of their family this way. But, if you can tell your story without it crippling you and bringing you to your knees, you know you have healed. This is me, telling my story.
Almost 15 years later, it hasn’t completely gone away, and it never will. I am not the same person I was back in 1998-2000 when I went through my horrible divorce, nor when I lost my sister to suicide in 2001. I have changed, I have grown, and I have had to learn to cope the best way I know how. God has carried me through each and every difficult, heart breaking, life shattering moment, too. This I know for certain.
Why did these thoughts all but consume me today? Coming off of a week of wonderful highs with my family, enjoying myself tremendously with my youngest daughter … the only thing I can think of is that my sister isn’t here to enjoy Spring Break with her daughter. She can’t do all of the fun things with her daughter that I have the pleasure of doing with mine, and that saddens me greatly.
I know that my niece wasn’t raised in the manner my sister would have wanted her raised in, and she has turned out differently than we envisioned. We love her, and we treasure the time that we do get to spend with her now. She’s quickly approaching 15 years of age, and she will have new freedom, too. She will be getting her driver’s permit, and she has plans to visit us when she does. Perhaps we will see her more often, and that will be a welcomed change!
All of these thoughts … and now I put them all to rest for the night. Tomorrow will be a new day, and I will focus on the good memories and let everything else go.
Bye bye, Blues.
.
