Happy Fucking New Year. Good riddance to the worst fucking year of my life. I’m not really one to believe that a new year brings good beginnings, as I know you can change your life at any given moment, but this one felt a bit better. Nothing worse could happen to this family, right?
Happy Fucking New Year. I woke up on the second day of our ‘fresh start’ to my sister crying, trying to tell me something. I was still half groggy from sleep, only half able to decipher what she was saying; he’s gone. He’s gone. What in the world could have happened?
Do the rest of the family know? How do we tell them? Do we wait until they get to Sydney? Could we have changed something? We saw him just a week ago.
A week ago.
How does that feel like a whole lifetime ago?
How are the boys? Are we going to see them?
Four months ago, we were in this place; people didn’t know what to say to us, to comfort us, to console us. What do we even say now? Nothing sounds right.
“I’m here for you”? — that saying has since void of all meaning.
Happy Fucking New Year. The whole family’s together again. We stand in a group, tearstained faces and all.
“Let’s not meet like this again.”
“Please, next time ensure it’s a wedding.”
There are still so many questions left unanswered. No one can imagine the demons he was facing, every day. He had faced adversities we would never even dream of facing.
It hurts my heart that some people still don’t understand the concept of depression. How hard the battle can be with yourself. It sickens me that no one has the patience to deal with someone who is just sad.
We didn’t ask, ARE YOU OK? Because he was with us, he was laughing, we were happy. We were a family; we were together, we were stronger, we had faced the worst of it. Hadn’t we?
You can beat yourself up with ‘if only’s and ‘why didn’t I?’s, but there is no turning back. There is no changing what happened. He’s gone, but he’s still with us in the same way Mum is; just because they left the world in different ways, does not make his presence in our memories any less distinct.
I wish he could have seen himself through it. I wish he had have stayed a little longer with us, I wish we could have helped him.
But if we weren’t to know, how were we supposed to help? If we didn’t ask, how were we supposed to get answers?
The key to it all is education. Opening your mind up. The stigma needs to go. The snide remarks, the unfunny comments. The sheer closed-mindedness that still exists, even in some of our youth today. Depression is as much an illness as cancer is. It’s killing the people we love.
I don’t give a fuck if you feel like you shouldn’t be feeling like that. If ‘nothing that bad’ has ever happened to you. If you feel it, you feel it. And it’s okay. Just talk to someone, and get the help you need.
R U OK?
Lifeline Australia 13 11 14
24 year old writer, just trying to find her way through the world through words and funny anecdotes.