Why you’re gone, I’ll never know. The pain I feel, you’ll never know

Back in January of this year (2012) I lost one of my best friends. (Please read it all)

I have always struggled with my own depression since I was about 12 years old. Ironically, I was severely depressed about the prospect of death. I didn’t want it to happen, ever. I knew it would come one day as it does for all humans, but I didn’t want to accept that fact. I wallowed away for so long. Day after day I would come home from school and just fall asleep on the couch and do nothing. It took me nearly two years to come out of my severe depression, but when I did, I felt so free and good. I had accepted the fact that I will die one day and that I was only wasting my own time I have left worrying about the inevitable.

In my teenage years I had also come to accept that I was gay. There was some depression surrounding that as well, but nothing severe as I was okay with being gay.

After high school I moved back to my hometown to begin college. I ended up only going for one year before I decided to drop out until I could better afford to go. In that time I got a few different jobs. In 2008 I got a job in retail where I meet who would become one of my very best friends. We first met on my first day of work. I was being trained at the cash register. When my trainer went on break, she came up front to cover her break. She was very quiet and shy, as was I. After a few months we began talking more and more and soon we had become pretty good friends. She would tell me about things going on in her life at the moment. I would try to offer my insight and she did the same for me.

Our friendship kept growing over the next two years.

Last spring I mentioned that I really needed a new place to live. She and her boyfriend at the time offered to let me move in as a roommate as their previous roommates had moved out.

Only a few weeks after I had moved in did I learn the extent of her depression. I knew that she struggled with it, but I didn’t know how bad it really was. One day her boyfriend came to me worried because he didn’t know what to do anymore. He told me that she had gone out and bought a gun and was talking about suicide. We decided to have an intervention style talk, just the three of us. She broke down and told us that she just didnt feel emotions anymore other than being sad. We talked out some issues. We got her to agree to see the doctor about getting on some medication to treat the depression/sadness.

The doctor decided to put her on prozac. This only made the situation worse. She soon felt nothing at all and was almost like a zombie. I convinced her to go back because treating depression isnt easy and is very much a process of trial and error. People respond differently to treatments and medications than others. She didnt want to at first. She figured she was a lost cause, but she ultimately decided to go back. The doctor gave her a new medication and it was very effective.

She seemed to snap out of her depression over the following month. We began doing more things, being more social. Then she began drinking more too. She was going out every night. She began to make bizarre (for her) choices. She just up and dumped her boyfriend of nearly 3 years. She began seeing terrible guys. They were all out just to use her for sex, but she hoped that there would be more to their relationship. Each guy seemed to be worse than the last.

Finally it was late fall and she had begun seeing a married man. She seemed to think or at least hope that he’d leave his wife and family to be with her. She knew that I hated what she was doing, but she didnt care. We began to have a falling out as she was bringing this guy to our apartment often. My frustration with her lifestyle was beginning to show as I avoided her much of the time and locked myself up in my room.

Our mutual friends didn’t like to see us angry with each other so they urged me to talk to her and try to make things right as we had pretty much stopped speaking. I built up the courage and sat down with her one night and just began to speak my feelings. I kept my opinions to myself and acknowledged that her business was really none of my business. We talked out a few other issues we were having, but after that, it was like we were best buds again.

Her married man was gone out of the state for a few weeks so we did a lot of hanging out. Finally one day before Christmas she asked me to go with her to the pawn shop to get rid of her gun. I gladly went along. I thought it was a great step in the right direction. We got to the pawn shop and she sold it. I wanted to make plans with her for that night, but I noticed that she was texting the married guy. I peeked and saw that she was trying to get him to come over that night as he had just gotten back home. When he said he couldn’t, she turned to me and asked if I wanted to do something. I kinda felt like I was just plan B since plan A failed. It made me feel kinda bad, but I let it go.

Through January she kept bringing the married man over and she still knew I disapproved and I tried to explain to her that he was not going to leave his family.

Her birthday was on a Saturday towards the end of the month. We hung out and I got her an ice cream cake (her favorite). We had a good day, then that night she went out with a few other friends from work and the married man.

They came back home only a few hours later. Married man bought her a bottle of cup cake vodka. She was upset because one of our friends was not able to handle her liquor and was very drunk.

The next morning (sunday) I got up to drive her to work. As we left, our friend who got too drunk woke up and asked her if she was mad at her. She said “hell yeah I’m mad at you” then slammed the door. That was the last thing she said to our friend.

Later that night when she got home from work and I had gotten home from my grandparents and I was getting ready for bed, I heard a knock on my bedroom door. I heard her crying. I got dressed and found her crying on the edge of her bed. I asked what was wrong. She said that she was still sad. She was still depressed. She then asked me “Have you ever considered suicide as a realistic option?”

I told her no, then I asked if she was thinking about doing something stupid. She wouldn’t answer me. She just got up and walked to the bathroom to get a tissue. I asked again, still nothing. I was worried. It was like being thrown back to that first day when we had that intervention, except now I was alone,just me and her. I didnt want to jump to conclusions so I did the one thing I good at. I sat her down and we just began to talk about life. I encouraged her to just let out everything.

She told me so many things about her life and how she was feeling as a result. She expressed feeling alone with no one that loved her. She had no family. Her only relative she knew was her mom and her mom was mentally ill. I kept telling her that people do love her. I told her I did as well. She kept telling me her life story. Finally after hours of talking I got her laughing so I felt sucessfull in lightening the mood. I knew for certain that things were not fixed, but at least there was a little more light in the moment.

The next day (monday) she was so happy and joyful. I drove her to class and picked her up afterward. She was just so happy. I cant say that enough. I thought that our talk really had lifted a weight off her shoulders.

That night I told her I was going to bed around 8pm. She was in the livingroom watching NBC. The kitchen and living-room lights were on as I went to bed.

About 30 min later she knocked on me door and aksed “what are you doing?” I said I was going to bed and she just said “oh, okay.”

I woke up the next morning around 8am to the sound of the TV on in the living room. I got up and saw all the lights were on still and the Today show was on. I turned off the TV and looked around. She was no where to be found. Her coat, computer and phone was gone. I saw her purse laying on her bed along with a box and a few other things. Her wallet was lying on the couch. I thought it was strange, but I figured that she had gone for a walk to the library or something. I saw the top of her car in the driveway from over top the neighbors car.

I decided to go back to bed.

About 30 min later the door bell rang, over and over. I got up. It was the neighbor. I opened the door and he said “did you know your roommate is passed out in her car?”

I said no. I got on my shoes and went outside.

There she was, sitting in the drivers seat, wearing her coat with a small pink flower in her hair. She looked like she was asleep with her head against the window. I knocked on the window, but she didnt wake. I tried to open the door, but it was locked.

Suddenly fear filled my body. I had to see if she was asleep. I got down and looked at her eyes. They were not closed, but half open looking forward into nothingness. I began to panic. I called 911. I went inside the house and paced, then came back outside. The 911 operator told me not to try and open the car. I saw her computer, cell phone, and the empty bottle of vodka sitting in the passenger seat.

The sound of the sirens grew louder every second. In only minutes, firetrucks, an ambulance and police cars pulled up. The fire trucks created a barrier from curious neighbors. A EMT came up and busted out the back window with a huge mallet. The smell that rolled out was unbearable. Another EMT pulled me aside and said “I’m sure you know by now, she’s gone.”

I hadn’t accepted that fact yet. I felt as if something terrible had happened and that we had only moments to help her, but she was gone. When the EMT said it, it became real, FAST. I became hysterical. A police officer, neighbor, and EMT took me back into the apartment to calm me down.

There were so many emotions going through me. Panic, pain, confusion, and anger where the top ones.

The EMT asked where her room was. I led them in and under her purse was a notebook. It had the date of the night before written on it with a few pages of note. I couldn’t read it. Not yet. It was too much to take in. I felt responsible somehow because I was unable to help her and save her from herself. I felt like I made the ultimate failure. I felt that because I didnt do enough, a human life had ended.

I gave the notebook to the lead detective.

I kept asking when they were going to take her away because she was still sitting out in her car, dead with a white sheet over the car. I couldn’t bare to think she was still sitting there, undignified in the cold while police and EMT’s examined her, took photos and investigated. I wanted her to get to safety, away from prying eyes.

Finally around noon, they took her away and most of the police and EMT’s left. The air in the apartment was cold as the door was open most of the morning.

The head detective came inside and told me what happened. They had come to the conclusion that she had died from carbon monoxide poisoning. They had to wait for autopsy for the official word, but said that’s what the believed happened based on the evidence in her car and on the charcoal grill box on her bed along with the note and phone records.

The last officer left me with a crisis helpline card and made sure I had arrangements to leave and be with my family.

I wandered the apartment a little more before leaving. It felt empty and lonely. In the freezer her cake still sat there “Happy Birthday (name)”

I spent the days following crying and breaking the news. Her mother called me a few days later to tell me when the funeral was.

I went to her funeral on saturday. It was open casket. She was lying there, like she was asleep. It felt better to see her like that, in a more peaceful position than when I had last seen her. I spoke at the funeral and said my final goodbye.

To this day it hits me in all sorts of different ways. Writing this has even stirred up strong emotions, as if it were just this morning.

I understand things better now in retrospect.

She told me her life story (and in her note I read a month later) so that I would know and understand why she made the decision she made.

She was happy the day before because she had her mind made up and was at peace.

I realized that she had been doing a lot of house cleaning the months leading up to it because she was getting rid of her stuff. One night she basically threw out all her make up and perfumes. It didnt click in my mind at the time as a sign.

I know now that I did everything I could, but she just needed more than I could ever give.

Of course I wish I could have her back, but I try not to dwell on the bad anymore. I try my damnest to remember the good times.

I’ll love you forever! (You’re the sister I never had).