Last week was not a good week. A woman that I've known for 11 years committed suicide. She was young, only 32 years old. She had a promising career that was escalating rapidly. She was engaged to be married on May 29th to a guy that also worked at my company. Her fiance found out while he was at his bachelor's party 4 hours drive away. One can only imagine how he must have felt to hear this news.
The assumption around the company is that she battled with depression. If there was a note left we'll probably not know the details of it. It's bad enough that she did it.
When things like this happen one wonders why someone would do this. Depression has many levels and when one goes to this length to end their life they assuredly are at the highest level. We've all been depressed and most are able to recover from it.
What was she going through that she could not handle? Did she feel that she didn't have anyone to talk to? Was it something that someone said to trigger it? Again, I'll never have the answer for these questions.
As Black men we keep a lot of our feelings close to us. Are we suseptible to such depressions. Probably so. I used to have friends in the same city that I could talk to. Many have died and some have moved. I write in my blog to help me through the times when it's not convenient for those far away to listen.
I had a small disagreement with someone that I care about on the same day that I found out about this suicide. They had no idea. Would our conversation have been different had they known. I'm not sure. I do know that after the disagreement I was very perturbed. Depressed no. Saddened yes.
Perhaps it's the ones that we care about who are at fault for the depression that we feel. Is it that one doesn't feel safe to share what's on their mind? Do we quickly map out the conversation with those we care about in our minds, knowning that they won't give emotionally what's needed?
Scientifically, one might say that most suicides are caused by a chemical imbalance and should have been treated with regular medication. Probably so. After the medication has run it's alotted course, for those in need of it, I believe the conversations with those they care about come crashing back to haunt and taunt them? The disagreement I had keeps coming back to me.
Along with the disagreement this suicide news warranted me to drive to San Diego to find some solice. I didn't tell anyone what happened there. I didn't want forced empathy. I wanted to enjoy feeling safe and loved to gear me up for the memorial service tomorrow. This service won't be easy because the story of these lives held so much promise.
You never know how words affect anyone. Especially if they don't tell you. I hope this disagreement with my friend will be resolved with out pain. I don't know how I affected him, he doesn't know how he affected me.
All I know is that there is always a cause and effect.
I'm somewhere on an island 
