Ask For Help

I wanted this to have a better ending. 

It was my mistake really, I started writing in my head before the whole thing played out. I wanted it to be an inspiring story about people helping other people. Friends and even strangers coming together and using the connections and community of Twitter, Tumblr, and other social networks for honest-to-god good. Not changing your avatar to a different color good. Not retweeting something or using a hashtag to halfassedly “raise awareness” good, but actually saving a human life in real time when he really really desperately needed to be saved. I wanted to finish by daring you to refer to the people that I’ve met and connected with online as my “internet friends” as if they’re some sort of second class friends that I should be embarrassed about because goddammit I watched the internet save someone’s fucking life today. 

That’s not how this story ends. 

A man named Jeff killed himself today. I didn’t know him. I didn’t really even know OF him until he was already gone. But it hit my radar the way these things do and I can’t get it out of my head so I’m putting it all down here. 

He posted what was essentially a goodbye to the world on Tumblr and people that I know and care about on Twitter were talking about it. They were worried so by extension I was worried. They (and I swear I’m a half decent enough writer to know how clichéd this phrase sounds, but I honestly can’t think of a better way to describe it) sprang into action. Messages were relayed. Authorities were alerted. People shared any and all information that they had about his whereabouts. It was inspiring. I swear it made me believe way down in the deep parts of my head and heart that humanity as a whole isn’t as bad off as I think it is most days and that maybe we’ll figure out how to make it through the day without just positively fucking wrecking each other. A group of people, some of whom had never met face to face did everything they could to get to him in time. To save his life. 

They were too late. 

Watching it happen right in front of me on my screen and feeling totally helpless made me feel terrible. Thinking about how totally alone Jeff must have felt how powerless he must have been, how he got to a point where he just couldn’t fight anymore crushed me. Watching his friends react to the news as it spread broke my heart right in half. I sat at my desk at work with my hat pulled low to hide my eyes crying at the death of a man I’d never met. Trying to wrap my head around the depths of depression he found himself in. 

And look, I won’t tell you that I’ve been there. Not that close to the edge. I’m lucky enough to say that I can’t begin to fathom the depths of true depression or mental illness. At worst I’ve made nervous eye contact with the edge from across a very crowded room. A room crowded with friends and family and love and even some fear and pain and quite honestly a lot of shit that I haven’t done yet. A lot of questions I need answers to and a whole mess of plot lines in this big cosmic stage show that I certainly want to be around for when they wrap up. 

So I keep at it because I’m not done yet. Because I have shit to do and people that I care about to do it with. And if things get bad I know that I can ask for help and help will be provided. Because really, despite my near constant bitching about the human race in general and the designated hitter specifically, people have the capacity to be pretty fucking awesome if you just let them. I wish Jeff would have asked for help. I wish that his friends and family didn’t have to go through this. I wish that I didn’t know his cats’ fucking names. I hope he’s not hurting anymore and that he found peace. 

Mostly I hope that anyone else who finds themselves close to the edge asks, screams, and begs for help. It’s not easy. I get that. I’m a gold medal winner in being really shitty at asking for help. But you HAVE to do it because depression, mental illness, or whatever you want to call it is a mean, nasty, unrepentant motherfucker and it’s putting WAY too many hashmarks in the win column.  

Be healthy. Hug someone today. Never miss an opportunity to tell the people you love that they matter.  And please, please, PLEASE if you’re in trouble or if someone you know is in trouble beg, yell, scream, fight, punch, kick, and light shit on fire if necessary until someone pays attention. 

We have stuff to do and places to go and things to see I want every single goddamn one of you here with me to see what happens next. 

And one more thing: I DARE you to you to refer to the people that I’ve met and connected with online as my “internet friends” as if they’re some sort of second class friends that I should be embarrassed about because goddammit I saw good people come together and do absolutely everything they could to save someone’s life today. My heart stopped waiting for the next update while I begged the universe for good news. I cried for the friends and family of a man I’ve never met and I haven’t stopped thinking about this or the people involved or how they’re coping with everything all day and I won’t any time soon. These are people that I care about and I’m honored to call them my friends without any sort of qualifier or extra explanation. I love you guys, thank you for everything.