![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Again, I think for the first time in, well, forever, I'll be sleeping peacefully. My new therapy sessions start this coming Wednesday. As a final thanks and farewell to the late and great Joshua Moats, I visited his "Mental Healthish Things" thread on Comic Fury's forums. I came across a recent post from moderator Shuffle, and here's what she wrote:
"It feels like everyone was going through a level of hell before JM passed, and their passing made things blow up.
I've been exhausted. Too exhausted to even wash a load of laundry. I know for me, it'll be a lot of processing, and while I knew JM, I wasn't close to them. I would have loved to be, but it didn't happen.
And I think that's okay, because I know they had more than enough close friends, all of whom seem to have been amazing. It wasn't anyone's fault. This is not something we need to blame anyone for. It is a tragedy, and it hurts, but I don't think of it as anyone's fault.
I am also coming to terms that I can't do it all. I really can't. I can only do my best and keep trying, and that's okay. I tend to put a lot of pressure on myself. My standards for me are higher than my standards for anyone else. I think that's a common thing to do, but I think a lot of us need to give ourselves more slack (I think MB said that earlier). It's okay to rest. It's okay to cry. It's okay to hit a pillow. It's okay to grieve.
My form of grief now is similar to how I felt when my dad passed (funny, JM's passing was so close to the 10th anniversary of my dad's passing) and it's like... I haven't cried much, and I'll probably only have a few more crying sessions. But it feels like, in my experience (and I understand this is not universal) when someone in my life passes, I feel the love they left behind. And I want that for every one of you as well. I want you all to see the good that they tried to give.
Really absorb the stories about JM's kindness, and fun personality, and the lessons they shared. Feel how so many users, even ones who basically never comment, were respectful and expressed care, condolences, and kindness when JM passed.
When my dad passed, we'd talk about the good times. We knew there were dark sides to my dad, but we all said that if he could have stayed, he would have. I think the same of JM. If they could have stayed, they would have. I don't know why they felt dying was the best way for them. But they did, and not only is it never going to be my place to judge, I think they went about it in a way that was gentle and kind to as many people as possible.
They acted out of kindness to the very end. And I can't be mad at them for that.
That's how I see it. I see nothing but kindness in the way they lived their life, and I do see they did their best with the hand they were dealt. I see them for their kindness. That's how I want to remember them, and I hope you can join me in remembering them for the good times."
After reading this, I think I've achieved some sense of closure regarding JM's departure and my subsequent mental breakdown/third (or was it fourth?) descent into suicidal ideations. JM passed, and as a result, a large portion of me did, too. I had to come to grips with the fact that much of my inner child died in childhood, but that I couldn't really grieve its loss until we lost Joshua. This was compounded by the loss of my uncle to suicide about 1 and a half years ago, the resulting void of which was still gripping my heart even after I thought I bade him farewell last year in February.
Though it feels like I've reached the acceptance phase, I know the hole left from these losses will never be filled. That's impossible, and it's wishful thinking. I'll miss JM, my uncle, and my lost childhood forever, and it's not something I'm happy to say. But hopefully, as I realized before, my strength from all of this will make me more self-aware, and as a result, better equipped to continue serving and inspiring others. Its my life's mission, and I can't champion it if I'm forever lost.
Let's follow JM's example of kindness and show what unconditional love and kindness can do.
"It feels like everyone was going through a level of hell before JM passed, and their passing made things blow up.
I've been exhausted. Too exhausted to even wash a load of laundry. I know for me, it'll be a lot of processing, and while I knew JM, I wasn't close to them. I would have loved to be, but it didn't happen.
And I think that's okay, because I know they had more than enough close friends, all of whom seem to have been amazing. It wasn't anyone's fault. This is not something we need to blame anyone for. It is a tragedy, and it hurts, but I don't think of it as anyone's fault.
I am also coming to terms that I can't do it all. I really can't. I can only do my best and keep trying, and that's okay. I tend to put a lot of pressure on myself. My standards for me are higher than my standards for anyone else. I think that's a common thing to do, but I think a lot of us need to give ourselves more slack (I think MB said that earlier). It's okay to rest. It's okay to cry. It's okay to hit a pillow. It's okay to grieve.
My form of grief now is similar to how I felt when my dad passed (funny, JM's passing was so close to the 10th anniversary of my dad's passing) and it's like... I haven't cried much, and I'll probably only have a few more crying sessions. But it feels like, in my experience (and I understand this is not universal) when someone in my life passes, I feel the love they left behind. And I want that for every one of you as well. I want you all to see the good that they tried to give.
Really absorb the stories about JM's kindness, and fun personality, and the lessons they shared. Feel how so many users, even ones who basically never comment, were respectful and expressed care, condolences, and kindness when JM passed.
When my dad passed, we'd talk about the good times. We knew there were dark sides to my dad, but we all said that if he could have stayed, he would have. I think the same of JM. If they could have stayed, they would have. I don't know why they felt dying was the best way for them. But they did, and not only is it never going to be my place to judge, I think they went about it in a way that was gentle and kind to as many people as possible.
They acted out of kindness to the very end. And I can't be mad at them for that.
That's how I see it. I see nothing but kindness in the way they lived their life, and I do see they did their best with the hand they were dealt. I see them for their kindness. That's how I want to remember them, and I hope you can join me in remembering them for the good times."
After reading this, I think I've achieved some sense of closure regarding JM's departure and my subsequent mental breakdown/third (or was it fourth?) descent into suicidal ideations. JM passed, and as a result, a large portion of me did, too. I had to come to grips with the fact that much of my inner child died in childhood, but that I couldn't really grieve its loss until we lost Joshua. This was compounded by the loss of my uncle to suicide about 1 and a half years ago, the resulting void of which was still gripping my heart even after I thought I bade him farewell last year in February.
Though it feels like I've reached the acceptance phase, I know the hole left from these losses will never be filled. That's impossible, and it's wishful thinking. I'll miss JM, my uncle, and my lost childhood forever, and it's not something I'm happy to say. But hopefully, as I realized before, my strength from all of this will make me more self-aware, and as a result, better equipped to continue serving and inspiring others. Its my life's mission, and I can't champion it if I'm forever lost.
Let's follow JM's example of kindness and show what unconditional love and kindness can do.
