Brian

I learned of the passing of a high school classmate today, Brian. He had apparently had some fairly serious emotional issues that remained unresolved over the past couple of years, had withdrawn in many ways from family and friends, and took his own life and that of his dog sometime last week. His body was discovered on Monday when his family sent the police to his apartment to investigate.

I didn't know him well at all, not even when we were in school together, but I remember him being a friendly person. I wish I could remember specific situations that characterized the kind of person he was, but I can't, so I will leave that to people who knew him well.

I think what it is about this news that really affects me is that I remember the feeling of being in a state of darkness for some time, really for about ten or even more years, and sensing that I was alienated from everyone and everything and really had no place in this world. I probably behaved rather normally for the time, being a teenager and then moving into my early to mid twenties, but inside I really did feel lost and disconnected. I sought counseling a number of times, and had one therapist with whom I really 'clicked'-- he was a grad student finishing his practice counseling at the VCU Center for Psychological Services and Development. Our sessions were taped, reviewed by my counselor and his supervisor, and erased. I didn't share everything with him, but he had such a caring heart and a gentle and thoughtful manner, I really felt I was making progress with him and I felt that normalcy was possible.

At the time, I was taking Western World Literature and we were reading T.S. Eliot's "The Waste Land," still one of my favorite literary works of all time. We discussed this poem, especially its themes of ending suffering by both opening one's heart and responding to the turbulence of life with steadfastness and grace (symbolized in the poem, among other things, by adjusting the rudder on one's own sailboat). Our sessions lasted several months, during which time we met one to two times a week. At the end of his student year, he notified me that he was terminating our sessions because he was finished with his practice counseling. This may have been my first opportunity to end a relationship gracefully. Our final sessions were really positive, and during our last session he gave me a small rubber stamp with an image of a sailboat. He reminded me that that image was so helpful, and so powerful; that no matter the state of the water-- turbulent, or choppy, or calm-- it's my own approach as the captain of my own vessel that determines whether I make it. My life didn't immediately improve-- there were and continue to be periods of darkness and trouble that remind me that I am never very far from that young and vulnerable girl-- but I have learned so much since that time and allowed myself to remain open to the possibility that I am not alone, no matter what-- and that the universe has lots to offer me in whatever time I have left in this life.

I wish Brian had found help the way I did.