Grieving for a Friend

It's been a few days since I received the news of my friend.

She died by her own hand.

As I mourn for her, I find that I am angry. Angry that she put on a brave face, too brave to tell anyone that her world was so dark and scary. This hidden world that she would rather face alone because sharing the realities of her broken heart, her struggle to find inner peace, the frustration of  her brain that told her the pain was beyond anyone's help and her need to be free. I am angry because she lied. Lied well enough to give the friends closest to her a sense of security that she was fine, only to sneak out and finish what she was determined to do all along.

And I am angry because I'm sad, and it's easier to be mad then it is to shed tears and cry because I'm sad that I couldn't have done anything to stop her. I could have taken her to a safe place, a place that deals with suicidal people everyday. I could have told her how I understood why she wanted to end the pain, because my mom had attempted to do the same thing only a few weeks ago. I would have held her and told her that she didn't need to be so brave. That I wouldn't judge her for actually crying, or yelling, or screaming, or anything she wanted to tell me about the darkness that haunted her for so long. I would have told her that burdens were meant to be shared, and that keeping them to yourself is selfish. I would have told her that I understood her more than she believed.

This pain I feel for her loss makes me wonder if all my friends lie to me.

I'm an honest and very blunt person around my friends. I own my emotions and perhaps share them so often that they believe that I only focus on my own problems. But that's not true. I tell everyone everything because I believe in being real. I am human for pity's sake. I get angry, I get sad, I get hyper and giggly to the point I don't make sense anymore. I don't hide these moments of emotion because it would eat me up inside. How could my friends help me laugh about silly things if I didn't tell them? How could my friends be real friends if I didn't let them know that I felt overwhelmed and needed a break from the monotony?

But I wonder if owning up to my emotions comes across as being self centered. Sadly, I only live in my skin, so I can only see the world through my eyes. But I can learn how others see the world. That is why I love my friends. I love my friends who come from different backgrounds then I do, who have different personalities, lifestyles, and goals. Because I love them for who they are.

I wanted to share this because I want my friends to know that I am real and I love them. I am here for you. I will drive four hours at all hours of the night to hold you while you cry. I will send you cards to brighten your day. I will pray for you. I'd make you soup if you were sick, or babysit your children so you could have a date with hubby. You can call me at any time to tell me anything, I will listen because I love you. But I can't help you if don't allow me to.

That to me is the biggest act of betrayal. When my friends don't allow me to be a friend.

So yes, part of my grieving is the fact that I feel betrayed. Betrayed that a friend wasn't real with me.

Dear friends, whatever you're going through, whatever your circumstances, know that I love you. I do. We're all human, and life is a lot better with friends.