May 2005

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It is important, in the light of what follows, to tell you now that I am okay. I'm not fine, but the heaviness of the depression I was feeling when I wrote yesterday has lightened and been blurred into the regular stuff of a workweek. There are still the things on my "can't do list," but they are not so important right this minute.

Tonight my thoughts are with Patrick and his family, in the loss of a family friend. I happened to hear about this earlier today, not too long before I left for work. And it has been on my mind, in part because I have known Patrick's own story for a while now.

And Patrick's entry, with its juxtapositioning of what happened to the man he's calling Jayce with what nearly happened to him, is one of those entries that will stay with me a long time. It falls into the category of things I consider heartbreakingly beautiful.

After I read it I wrote to Patrick. I told him that every time I reread his story of that awful night, I learn a little more. I told him that every time I reread it, I am grateful. I am grateful that he lived to tell the story. I'm grateful that he's my friend. I'm grateful that he got the right help and the right medications.

At the same time, it scares the absolute hell out of me every time I read it, because it reminds me how close everyone who cares about him came to losing him. How awful the wrong doctor and the wrong meds were for him. How horrifying it must have been for him, and how alone against the enemy of depression he must have felt.

And it scares me to know how awful, horrifying things can be true for so many people.

Which brings me to this: the best thing I ever did was admit to myself and to people who care about me that I have a real problem with depression. It has kept me from feeling so alone against an enemy, on nights like last night. And it has made me realize that my life matters.

If you are depressed, my hope for you is that you find the help you need. Keep looking. Your life matters, too.