This probably isn't the best topic for my first post, I promise these won't all be depressing. =]
February...
Oh what a month, most would think I hate this month because I am single and have never had a romantic Valentine. However it's so much more. February 14, 2006 my life changed forever. I spent the evening with my very close friends, having some drinks, laughing, watching intramural basketball games, and jamming to NKOTB. This is also the night my best friend took her life.
Of course now I look back at that night I see all the signs, I know, I know she had her mind made up, she would have done it no matter what, how was I supposed to know(?).
I have tremendous guilt. I knew she was depressed, she had mentioned in the past how she wasn't happy and how life would be easier dead, I'd cry with her and tell her how we'd get past this. Instead of not reporting it and knowing what to look for in suicidal people and their comments, I refused to believe that this was a reality. Or was it just me being naive? I can't get past how I kept thinking that night "what is wrong with her, something is not right". That day she did everything people who take their life do, she contacted all the people she held close in her heart told them how much she loved them, how proud she was of them. She also kept saying that she loved us so much, that she hoped nothing bad ever happens to us. That last part angers me, something bad did happen, she caused it to happen. All the events from the moment of finding out to watching her go in to the ground, are all a vivid blur. We had professors from the counseling program hold group counseling sessions. In one of the sessions, an old friend of McKaylee's put a lot of blame on me and my friends, she said it was our fault she did this. Because we were drinking, I now realize that of course this friend was angry, it is easier to put blame on someone instead of believing it was a choice the person chose. (I also know that the drinking more than likely made it easier for her to go through with it.)
Everyday that goes by, I am stuck with an inner struggle. I have accepted the fact that this was her choice, that I couldn't have changed anything. Yet I do have the what ifs, what if I had said something to someone, what if she had received the proper help, she'd still be here being goofy with me. Being my McKayKay .
But she isn't. So now while I feel constant hurt in my heart, I am so thankful that she was in my life. It really sucks though how the memories that stick out the most are of the last few hours we spent with her, and the events of her funeral. Some days it feels like this is all a dream I'll wake up not knowing the confusion and hurt of losing someone to suicide and my friend will call me just to make fun of my mom's accent, or to tell me she sharted, or pester me to cut her hair, or have me teach her how to wear mascara...
I am slowly changing my thinking and attempting to be thankful that I was one of the last people she wanted to spend time with before her end. I sometimes do wonder if I am actually starting to work through the different grief stages, or am I numbing myself of all of this, basically ignoring it ever happened. I do know that this year on February 14TH I'll still take a shot of Jack at 11:00pm, still be sad and still continue to dread this day, all while I honor her.
Until we meet again my friend!!
McKaylee Shaw Gilmore
7.17.1983-2.14.2006
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