She’s dead. It’s strange how those two small words are so much harder to say than, ‘She passed away’ or ‘She didn’t make it’. The power of words, and how they impact all of us differently is very evident to me right now. I have not written much of anything since she died as words keep seeming to fail me. Now that I am trying, it’s hard, but nothing in life is easy. Not in my life anyway. Losing her has put a lot of things in perspective, and I hope to work through the tough situations I’ve had in my life that I have let control me, and caused me to lose who I am. I was already lost before she died, and I am even more so now that she is gone.
I was already off work for about 2 weeks, and had a stay at Lindner Center of Hope, to deal with my depression and anxiety. I was let out Thursday night. We texted on Friday and the last thing we said was ‘I love you’. She texted me again Saturday about what to wear to her boyfriends charity boxing event that evening, and I agreed that sometimes you need another girl to help you pick something to wear. The last text I got from her, the last one I will ever get, was ‘I know…’, and those two equally small words will stay with me forever in more ways than one. First, I keep thinking if anyone of us wanted to say something to her like, ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘I love you’ or ‘I miss you’…her answer would always be ‘I know…’. Second, I have ‘I know…’ now tattooed on my left hip with cherry blossom tree branches coming from it across my back to my right shoulder. I choose that tree as it only blooms for a short period of time, and symbolizes how overwhelmingly beautiful life can be but also tragically short. If I needed any indication that I choose the right tattoo it came in the form of a small bottle of hand sanitizer in some of her things I got from her mom, and it was Japanese Cherry Blossom scent. We take signs anywhere we can get them sometimes.
On Sunday morning, March 2, 2014, I got a call from one of my current roommates, Dan. I wasn’t doing much of anything, and when I answered the first thing he said was, “I have some bad news. I don’t know the details, but I thought you would want to know.”
All I could say was, “Okay,” having no clue what could be coming next.
He said, “Lauren was in a car accident last night, and she passed away.”
My only reply before I started crying was, “What?”
I was in shock. He had to get back to work, but I thanked him for calling and telling me.
The second I hung up the phone I fell to the floor sobbing, and I screamed.
“AMANDA…CHRIS…I NEED YOU…” was all I could get out to my other two roommates. Chris hadn’t heard me, but Amanda did and as I told her what Dan had just called to tell me I felt like someone was ripping out my heart. She tried to comfort me, but I had forgotten in that moment my son was in the other room watching a movie. He had heard me too. Avery came running in the room crying. Amanda tried to calm him down and get him to go back in the living room. He was having none of that.
He sat down on my lap, looked me in the eyes, and said, “Don’t be sad, be happy.” Something Lauren would have said. ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oo4OnQpwjkc ;https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i0A3-wc0rpw ) I had already learned in the 3 ½ years since I had him how to control my emotions in front of him, so I pulled myself together. I told myself I could break down once he went in his room for nap time. I decided that I needed to call some of our friends, since I know if they knew before me they would call me. As word got out the calls and text became endless. We all wanted details, what happened? I didn’t have that yet. I kept waiting for someone to call me and tell me it was a mistake, someone got it wrong. But it was real. It is real.
Nothing will bring her back, but anything we can do in her memory keeps us going. Lauren was one of my best friends for the past 10 years. We dated brothers, we lived together in our early 20’s, we worked together in our mid 20’s, she was in the delivery room when my son was born, and we had seen each other through a lot. She was there for me right up until the end…
“Two Songs For The World’s End
I
Bombs ripen on the leafless tree
under which the children play.
And there my darling all alone
dances in the spying day.
I gave her nerves to feel her pain,
I put her mortal beauty on.
I taught her love that hate might find,
its black work the easier done.
I sent her out alone to play;
and I must watch, and I must hear,
how underneath the leafless tree,
the children dance and sing with Fear.
II
Lighted by the rage of time
where the blind and dying weep,
in my shadow take your sleep,
though wakeful I.
Sleep unhearing while I pray –
Should the red tent of the sky
fall to fold your time away,
wake to weep before you die.
Die believing all is true
that love your maker said to you
Still believe
that had you lived you would have found
love, world, sight, sound,
sorrow, beauty – all true.
Grieve for death your moment – grieve.
The world, the lover you must take,
is the murderer you will meet.
But if you die before you wake
never think death sweet.”
― Judith A. Wright, Collected Poems, 1942 1970
I was already having trouble sleeping, but then I am having to take 50mg of Benadryl (which a lot of antihistamines help people sleep and are actually what is in most sleep aids), and 20mgs of Melatonin (the highest recommended dose approved by the FDA) just to sleep at night. I had to remember to eat, or have someone remind me. I started smoking again, which I had given up until recently except for occasional ones I might bum off my roommate Chris. I have made a deal with one of Lauren’s brothers, Michael (and also from her Dad’s advice to decide one day to quit and throw them away), to quit smoking again. I texted Michael that I ran out the other day, and haven’t had the heart to tell him that I bought another pack today. It won’t be easy, and I may backslide, but I intent to keep my promise. (Since I have told him and he is still supporting me on ‘re-quitting’!)
Lauren was one of a few people who knew about everything I have been through in my life, and was one of those who encouraged me to write about it. I had a really good group counseling session, and I decided on my drive home that I was ready to start writing again. Not the fiction stuff I normally write, or the fantasy novel I have written and don’t like; but something real. I write this not only for Lauren, as she will come up in a lot of my memories over the past 10 years and is a way of remembering her; but also for myself and my son so I can deal with my depression and anxiety in a constructive way. I do not know who would actually want to read this, but I hope to bring awareness to mental health. I want to tell my story so people know what it is like to be someone that others tend to label as ‘Crazy’.
Since I’m going to tell my story I thought I’d began when I was born. A few events may be off a year or so as our memory does tend to fail us as we get older, though I did talk with my mother to make it as accurate as possible. A few things have also been changed, but only to protect certain peoples identity. So here is where my life begins: 31 Years in 31 Chapters.
A Perspective On Life 