She was a light. Not the kind that lit up a room, as the cliche goes. She was more like a flashlight. The sort of light that leaves its holder in darkness while shining brightly and intentionally for others. That was her.
Fun. Spunky. Beautiful. Outwardly radiating light as reflective as the sun while standing, like a shadow, in the darkness– a darkness only she could see and feel.
She had two sides— the side that was balanced and loved– the real and truest side. And the side that lied to her to make her believe she wasn’t enough and that things would never get better.
The other day, that side finally won. And with that win came destruction and devastation to everyone that knows her.
She took her life.
She left early.
She was consumed by the lies of the darkness and the cruel untruths it silently spoke to her.
And now you can feel the guilt seeping out of the tears of each person that remains. The kind of guilt that says, could I have saved her? Could someone have saved her? Could I have said more, or did more, or changed this unimaginable outcome? The kind of guilt that clings to you like skin and makes your grief that much harder to carry.
The harsh reality is that you can’t tether someone to this earth when their soul is aching for eternity and peace in a way we cannot see or comprehend. Sometimes, you cannot save people no matter how hard you try.
She left early.
She said goodbye before anyone was ready.
And now she is gone.
And now we all see the darkness and the despair because we’re seated in it, unable to turn away from the realities of this moment. So we’ll pay our respects, and we’ll pray, and hug, and cry.
And we’ll never again be able to deny the power of pain.
988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline
