Heavy Heart

My heart is heavy today, for no known reason. I’m unsure if I had the chance to grieve or if I’m just coping until I hit rock bottom and the cold harsh reality.

I went to see you today, and you weren’t there. A pile of dirt covers where you lay, the snow covered where you lay. The cold ground, the blistering cold wind, but I still stayed with you for an hour. Crying, talking to you with no response. It may be a trend of mine until I figure out how to heal the brokenness. I listened to your songs and one of your favourite songs.

I’m not mad or angry at you, I’m sad. I’m pissed that mental illness goes so deep into the pits of hell that it would push someone to that breaking point. To that point of pure brokenness and despair where you feel like all hope is lost and there’s no way to recover. I hate what they did to you, I hate the system failed you and didn’t take care of you properly.

I’m trying to make sense of all of this, I’m trying to be strong like you would want. I’m trying to find a silver lining. Maybe he silver lining is simply knowing how many people you touched and how many people you continue to touch. I miss you so much and I love you very much. You are so loved and missed beyond what you can imagine.

All I could think about today was our conversations and the memories that we have. I found out what really happened today and my heart is breaking. I have a heaviness lying on my heart today and I have no one to even talk to about this and that’s the saddest part for me. Reminiscing on the memories and talking about you to people close to me seems so sad but so healing at the same time.

We know this wasn’t you and this wasn’t your proper state of mind. The system failed you and that breaks my heart even more. You told me to write whenever and that’s what I’m doing whether it’s politically incorrect or not, it’s healing and helpful. Knowing there’s no judgements on how I’m feeling because no one else can justify those feelings. I’ve shared some recent writings and they’ve said the same things you have.

I have confidence and peace knowing you’re watching over me and many others. Though I can’t communicate with you, I feel like I’m saying what you wish you could say. The system sucks and the system failed you and I wish the stigma against mental illness didn’t exist. If they did their job, you’d still be here.

I understand why you may have chosen not to come back. I understand whole heartedly that you were tired, frustrated, angry, and confused about what was taking place in your mind. I understand you didn’t want to come back to that same hell you wanted so desperately to escape. I understand. What I don’t understand is how and why the system failed you.

I’m trying to be strong and positive for you, but my heart is aching. Aching with such disappointment, anger, and hatred to the system. Not to you. I understand you were tired of fighting a seemingly never ending battle, I get it, I truly do and you know I do. I wish I could have spoken to you once last time. Not the last time I didn’t know was the last time. I wish there was 1 more letter, 1 more minute, 1 more day, but there wasn’t and there never will be again. I’ll love you forever and always and I’ll always remember you. Until we meet again, continue to watch over us all as we continue to live on through you.