Letter to Brian: December 20, 2024

Dear Brian,

Well, I turned 50 this year. Who’d a thunk it, eh? I’d say it’s a miracle, but that doesn’t feel true. It’s more like 10,000 little miracles that got me this far. Somehow I’ve managed to survive my own brain… which seemingly came with the factory setting of “self destruct.” I have to actively choose life everyday and that has been more difficult than I’m comfortable admitting. I realize that “continuing to exist” is a pretty low bar, but I’m really proud of myself for clearing it everyday. My mind is the most inhospitable place.  I’m trying so, so hard to make it less so but I’m an incredibly slow learner, it would seem. Well that, and my brain is continually slipping back into that unfortunate, default factory setting.

Last weekend I was binge-watching my latest hyperfixation show, a true crime series called “Evil Lives Here” that chronicles the experiences of people who have suffered violently at the hands of really terrible men. One line in particular really triggered me. A woman who had been shot multiple times by her brother and wasn’t expected to survive said, “I’m so incredibly grateful to be alive.” I started to sob. I realized what I was experiencing at that moment was grief.  Grief that I don’t ever recall a time in my life where I wasn’t at minimum passively suicidal… or at worst, actively suicidal and making plans. It’s always been there. I imagine it must be such a lovely feeling to be fully present and connected to life here on Earth, but I’ve never known that feeling. I’ve always felt like an outsider that really doesn’t belong here. At a benefits meeting at my job when I was 24, they were discussing retirement savings and I completely tuned out and declined to sign up for a 401K plan for years and years because I truly believed I wouldn’t survive my illness long enough to require any retirement savings.  And truthfully, I’m not in a good position where that’s concerned yet today, because that same voice continues to speak up against bothering to save.

The last 2 years have brought some additional sadness that has been difficult for me to navigate. People don’t talk about friendship breakups very often but they should… I’ve found them to be more painful than the loss of romantic relationships. I had what I thought to be one of my closest friends move 4 hours away and I only found out through social media the night before the big move. My feelings were deeply hurt because that told me she did not want me to be a part of her future. If I had done something wrong, that wasn’t shared with me so I could make amends for it. Another of my closest friends realized it would be beneficial to her life if I wasn’t as much of a participant in it any longer. It took a lot of tearful nights to process those losses because I have such a deep fear of abandonment. I internalized those losses because I’m obviously the common denominator so my assumption is that there’s just something about me that repels people. But I’m gently reminding myself that not all relationships are meant to last and I’m grateful for the closeness and community that those two relationships offered me for 8 years. I appreciate the coping tools I’ve learned so far and I treasure the kindness of the friends who stay even when I go dark. I know it’s not easy to have a friend like me who is incapable of seeing her own worth and who is basically inconsolable when her demons hop in the driver’s seat.

This summer brought another difficult loss. I had been dating a very sweet man for the better part of 2 years and he died by suicide in June. Tim and I met in July of 2022 when I, for whatever reason, decided to try out online dating again for an incredibly brief period of time. We matched and messaged a bit and then decided to speak on the phone. He had such a gentle voice and spirit that I immediately connected to. After talking for a bit, we realized that we had both lost a sibling to suicide– he had also lost his younger brother many years ago. We both also had survived a suicide attempt of our own. Tim was a former firefighter/paramedic who retired early due to severe PTSD and was very focused on improving his own mental health and I admired that so much about him. Our first date was absolutely lovely.  We met for breakfast and when I tell you that I saw stars the moment we first met face to face, I mean it. It felt like a jolt of straight up soul recognition and I literally thought to myself, “Oh, it’s you!!” I somehow recognized that his presence in my life was supposed to happen. Our second date was a road trip to a cute town 5 hours away! That date lasted 36 amazing hours– we were great road trip partners and never lacked for conversation. This will sound pretty woo-woo and all, but there were times during that drive when I’d look over at TIm and I can’t explain it, but I felt your energy stronger than ever. It made me wonder if you had a hand in us meeting one another. We enjoyed hiking together, doing puzzles, enjoying music and backyard fires and I especially loved that when we ate dinner together we made a point to eat at the dining room table and really talk. He was so connected to his emotions and was so present during those conversations and that made him even more special to me. He made me feel so beautiful and smart and funny and I’m so deeply sad that he’s gone but am immensely grateful for the experience that I shared with him. 

I’ve heard that our souls choose a particular life to experience on Earth before we are born… and that the struggles we experience serve the purpose of teaching us something that we need to know. The positive side of my mental illness is that I believe it has made me more compassionate and empathetic.  The downside? Every single day I have to combat that voice that wants to die. I’m learning to manage the illness better than I did when I was younger. I’m prioritizing my own well being over people pleasing, I’m saying no more and just overall making better choices based on how I’m feeling. I’m keeping my social circle small, I’m getting out for daily walks, getting enough sleep, avoiding people who are not beneficial to my feeling of safety or who disrespect my boundaries, paying attention to what kind of material I’m ingesting on TV when I’m feeling vulnerable and I’ve made my cute little house a place I truly love to be! I had only a few self harm episodes in the last year, but I’m still struggling a great deal with regards to my relationship with food and that is one of my biggest challenges currently. But one day at a time, right? I’m also learning that I just don’t think I’m meant to be partnered with someone. I absolutely adore living alone and the lack of stress from the tensions of an intimate relationship is a definite positive for me. I don’t miss the company of a man, I feel my life is made better without one, honestly.

I miss you and Moooooomie so much this time of year. I still talk to you both everyday, my wish is that you can feel my love from this side of the veil.

Love Always,
Laura