The Conversation I Didn't Know I Needed With Josh

Josh has been my workmate for a couple of years now. He’s one of those guys who quietly became a real friend at some point, and I looked back and went, "hang on a minute, he's a proper mate" well after the fact. My car died on the side of the road once in the middle of nowhere and he drove twenty miles to come and pick me up.

"You good?" he just asked when he pulled up

"Yeah. Just gutted."

"Don't be such an idiot. Get in."

And I wasn’t late for work on that day.

Last week we were working late on some project, and the after-hours quiet had descended on the office. That’s not like 2 pm with everyone in the office when you can’t even talk politics. Our conversation somehow meandered onto a girl I used to date. I told him that we hadn't spoken in five years and the last I'd heard she was married and doing alright. But then, a couple of months ago, I was scrolling through Facebook and saw condolences on her TL, and my stomach just dropped out from under me.

I did some asking around a mutual friend. It seemed everyone else knew what I hadn’t found out yet.
"She took her own life," she told me. "After the divorce. He made it really tough for her."

I'm not going into the specifics of the marriage and what she went through. What really sticks in my mind is the fact that I actually knew her, we actually had a connection, and I let five whole years go by without sending a single text to check in

"You didn't know," Josh said.

"That's not the point, I could've looked her up."

"Could've. Not the same as did, though. You didn't do anything wrong not knowing"

I said I wasn't so sure about that. He just sat there quietly for a second or two, then said something.

"Last summer I tried to kill myself"

I just stared at him. "What on earth"

"I planned it, made sure it would work, and left a note. Obviously it didn't work, though"

"Josh"

"I am seriously fine now," he said all this in a flat tone, like he was just going through a form "I just wanted to let you know, since you just told me about her," he said and shook his head.

I didn't say a word for far too long. I genuinely had no idea what on earth to say to that. A big part of me wanted to know why and another part of me was terrified that asking the question would just unravel months of him putting things back together on his own.

"Why are you telling me this now?" I tried to ask after a long silence

"Because you just told me you regret not knowing about her sooner." He shrugged. "Figured it'd be better if you knew now, rather than finding out by accident later"

I still don't know what was going through his head that summer. Or maybe that's not mine to know unless he decides to tell me sometime.

Since that night, a gnawing loop has been playing in my head nonstop.

First, it's the guilt. Did I open floodgates by bringing up my ex? Would he have ever revealed that stuff to me if I hadn't gone and brought it up first? The truth is, I still have no idea.

But then there's the part where he talks about it all like it's water under the bridge and there's nothing left to say about it. But I've done my reading, and I know that the past doesn't always stay in the past... and to be honest, I'd rather be stuck in a bit of uncertainty than assume he's fine because that's just more comfortable for me to deal with.

The next day he told me I'd better stop worrying, as if he could read the whole show on my face.

"Someone has to," I said back

"I'm not her," he said softly, but it felt like a sledgehammer. "You don't have to save me," I guess he thought that'd soften the blow?

"Well, yeah I know that," I said, "but I still want to keep checking in"

"Fine," he said, "but don't make it awkward"

So I guess that's the deal now. I check in, I try not to make things weird, and some days I'm better at it than others. I just take it one conversation at a time and pray I'm not messing it all up.

What I do know is I'd rather feel a total idiot by checking in too much than lose someone the way I did lose her. I'd rather run the risk of saying something thoroughly awkward and have Josh give me the eye than just assume he's fine because it's easier for me to believe. I know all too well what it's like to stop keeping tabs on someone and then wonder if you might have missed your chance to help. I'm not going to risk making the same mistake twice.

Its suicide awareness month, and I needed to write this story.

If you've got a Josh in your life, you don't need a perfect line of dialogue. Just say the thing.

if you or someone you know is struggling, then help is out there.

In the States and Canada you can ring/text 988 at any time of day or night for the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline.

In the UK and Ireland the Samaritans are on 116 123 (it's free to call).

Elsewhere, findahelpline.com has a list of vetted crisis helplines for your country.

You don't need to say the right words. Just make the call.

"Don't make it weird" Josh said.

I'm trying mate. I'm trying.