Loss

Loss…an experienced void, a hole, a missing of once what was.

This occurrence an ever-present self-evident reality for us all.

How we handle loss, although easy to say and hard to do, is up to us individually and alone. Similar to a dynamic I call The Damn Issue Isn’t the Fricking Problem, loss affects us mostly by way of how we respond to it.

Respond to it…will we face it, will we sit with it?

Will we look at it, will we talk to it?

Will we not avoid it, will we write about it?

Will we develop patience for it, dropping our judgments and perhaps even learning from it?

Will we return to it time and again, even when we don’t want to, even after we’ve already had enough?

Will we, will we try?

Will we try and keep trying, trying to face our hurt, damn the tears, will we try to not back down?

Will we try to rise and continue despite our emptiness?

Will we aim our try so to tower above what drags us down, hence being so brave, so bold, so cocky?

I hope so. I hope this for you, and I hope this for me.

Sometimes we hurt too much, sometimes our pain too hard, sometimes our suffer too awful.

Sometimes, sometimes we can’t, we just can’t do it.

And if we get to the point of hopelessness and giving up, I think that’s ok.

It’s ok.

It’s ok, it’s ok, it’s really ok. We’re allowed. We’re allowed to feel what we feel.

No one else can feel our feels. No one truthfully understands our agitation of all that burns below.

No one grasps our desperateness, not the crippling non-forgiveness of self, nor the deflation of soul.

We feel what we feel, we think what we think, we believe what we believe and we do what we do alone.

No one else is us, therefore no one can claim to know our inners and why, no one no how.

It’s an acceptance of truth, it’s a compassion for self.

It’s a tenderness, it’s an allowance.

It’s ok, it’s ok, it’s really ok, I love you no matter what.

At times we feel we’re done, we think no options exist, we see nothing but dead-ends.

At times we think we’re done, those times we find ourselves stuck in darkness.

We find ourselves stuck, yet a spindly string dangles overhead.

If giving up but forgetting to tell anyone we’re through, well, factually then, it’s not over.

If our breath breathes, even begrudgingly, if our breath breathes it’s not over.

It’s not fricking over, not yet, we’re still here, maybe not here emotionally but still here in frame.

Still here, least the faint shell of our humanoid machine still here.

Still here and I for one try to stand even when wrecked.

I try to stand and say fuck death, yeah, fuck that fucking fucker.

While I can, long as my breath breathes I choose to try, hard as it is I choose to try, well, I try to try.

I refuse, I refuse to remain adrift in a sea of mediocrity, I lead with intention, I try to rise, I try to try.

I choose to try and keep trying. I choose to bleed and keep bleeding. I choose to cry and keep crying.

Fuck ‘em, those who say I should be happy, those who say to stop talking about the darkness.

I choose life, I choose truth, I choose to try, I choose to try and be willing to endure all to come.

I choose, least for today, I choose to put forth my best prepared shoe of intent, and if just for today.

Oh sure yes and honestly, I have not always held such resolve, not always such drive, but I do today.

Soaking abottom the swamp of my own shallow pool of despair, I tempted death more times than ten.

I had given up yet not brave enough to choke myself out or eat that bullet, more times than ten.

More than should be permitted I approached the end of end lines, thus finding no new routes.

More than should be allowed I found no escapable exits, and reached for the needle.

And then, dang, and then, something shifted, something changed, I yanked on the overhead string.

The dim lit overhead wakened me, and some sort of shine crept across the darkened floor.

Some slight path shone a way, a way towards a new me, least for a while.

Least for a while I afforded a stay of self-execution, meaning I found reason to dream, to hope, to try.

To try, to try because it was possible, not likely but possible, it was possible for me to rise once more.

To rise and try to walk, to take one step and see where it leads me, then another, and another.

Under my own power another still, finally finding myself somewhere, somewhere odd scary and loud.

But somewhere, somewhere there I was.

Opening my veritable mind’s eye I began to see, I saw myself, saw myself not nowhere but somewhere.

When courageous enough to open my eyes from behind the lens of truth, I can stand tall to see.

I see more of what’s to come ahead of me, and I stand taller than all left behind me.

Eyes up, I try again and again to go and keep going, to not get snarled in my own entanglement of lies.

I try avoiding the lies I am not good enough, that no new paths are out there for me.

I try to clear the fog of disbelief and begin, fuck the naysayers and just be me.  

Standing in my own shoes, I try to drop all put-down lies of self, rising to just be me, be me here now.

Six years ago today on September 11th we lost our dear Lexie DeLaRue, my lovely niece, beloved daughter of my favorite and middle sister Beth. Lexie fought a long hard battle, but finally won the war against the monsters in her head. Lexie was not a mess, no way, she was not crazy, not at all, she was not without options nor was she talentless, forget that shit. Lexie was superbly skilled and engaging, and beautifully creative. Lexie was all of that and more, yet also she was unhappy. She was unhappy beyond her try. Lexie was hurt more than she allowed herself to feel, and that’s ok. It’s ok, it’s really ok. Lexie lived her life her way, until she couldn’t, and that’s ok. It’s a loss but it’s ok because it happened and she chose her final walk down her own lane. It’s ok because it happened and I love Lexie for true. I love Lexie for true, for all she felt, for all she did, and all she was. I remember fondly the once-was of Lexie, and I judge her not for eating her shotgun at 25 years young. It’s ok, it’s really ok. It’s ok because I love Lexie no matter what. Today I share these words so to help. Lexie was an artist, a poet, an entrepreneur, a horse whisperer, a daughter, a sister, a niece, an aunt, and more. Lexie wanted to publish her poetry so to help others suffering amid their darkness. Tragically Lexie’s poetry has gone missing, and I fear it lost forever. So, here I share her lasting note of why, which still sits on Facebook, her goodbye letter she left, just before she said her final goodnight to us all. I share this so to help, to show some of what we all might feel, to spread some more of Lexie about the land, and so to help.

Something I do…when losing someone I write them a letter, a pen and paper letter. I write them to say what I have to say, because of unfinished business. After my mother was locked away from our family forever when I was four years young, I later wrote a letter explaining my loss to her. I never delivered it. I wrote my father a letter when he died in 2008, and I wrote my homeless paranoid schizophrenic mother a letter when she died in 2012. I wrote Lexie a letter when she died in 2017, and I wrote my best friend Glenn Thomas a letter when he died in 2021. The letters have proven to be extremely therapeutic. In past years since losing Lexie, I have previously shared my goodbye Lexie letter but today, I share her letter here, not mine.

It is with great sadness and also great relief that I am writing this letter to you all today, my friends and my family, whom I care for greatly. I am writing to inform you of my decision to end my own life.

My twenty five years on this Earth have been brimming with happiness, friendship, and love. I have known life in it's greatest moments, when all is well and the world is good. I have also known life for it's darker times, through all the sadness and heartbreak and pain that it has to offer. I have travelled, I have found my home, and my life has been a beautiful anthology of memories for me to cling to in my darkest hours.

It was not in a dark moment that I came to this decision. It was not a decision I made lightly, impulsively, thoughtlessly. This is not a decision of suffering, but of solace. I have thought about suicide for nearly a decade, planned it for the last four years. It is a choice I have made for myself, in my own right, in sound mind and body.

I have thought of ending my life many times, but always found something to look forward to, some better tomorrow to search for. My thoughts were my darkest secret, my best kept confidence. They gave me hope though troubled times, that the pain would one day end.

I made the decision long ago to end my life when I was ready, when my fighting had been done and my life had been lived to the fullest. Only when I found true happiness could I accept my own death, only when I knew it was out there, and it was real.

My life has not always been a happy one. My monsters follow me everywhere, but now they are silenced. It was not by the fault of my friends that I made this choice, the people I love have been there for me through thick and thin, light and dark, happy and sad. My friends have made me stronger, and I do not wish to be mourned.

Miss me, remember me, but do not cry for me. Sadness is my only regret, and hurting those I love is what has kept me from this choice for so long. No person other than myself is responsible or to blame for my final decision. The people close to me were my greatest strengths, my wonderful reasons to live, my friends and family made my life bright and wonderful, and no single person could have changed my plans.

I have felt my end crawling ever closer, death waiting for me just above the horizon of each rising sun. I go to my end peacefully, and content. The thought of meeting my death on my own terms, at my own chosen time, is my own last attempt of peace. I have lived my life for the people around me, I have stayed strong for everyone else. I choose death, and it is a choice I make for myself, and it is a choice I am happy with.

I love you all so much, those people who have been my friends, my family, my motivation and my strength. My own mind has been my prison, and with one last sunset I finally find my freedom. I am so sorry for the pain I have caused. I will watch the sun go down on a beautiful life, I will one last time turn out the light, look to the stars and say goodnight.