I hadn’t posted about the deathaversary of Lauren this year because, honestly, I didn’t have it in me. Four years have passed since I received the early morning text message that she had killed her self, and that number was stinging all last week.
Four has always been my favorite number.
I was assigned to be “#4” in 4th grade and I loved the consistency of it. I loved that it was 2×2, the number of sides in a square, and a number frequently used. If you wanted to divide something evenly, you could cut it into fours. Clocks were divided into quarters, and quarters also made up school marking periods, percentages, sports games, and dollars.
Four has always made sense to me.
So why is it, four years later, I’m still left asking the same question about suicide: Why?
It’s also mind blowing to me that 4 years, the suggested length of a college education, have passed. She was my pseudo-mentor in my grad school program for education. This length of time, and its significance, to me, is surreal.
A lot of my blogger friends are grieving, as a well-known blogger from our community took her life last week. News of her death came a few days after the anniversary of Lauren’s, and, even though I didn’t know her, it stung like crazy. So many found themselves grieving as her face was plastered across the internet. God, how I feel for everyone that knew her.
Depression was a big part of my summer, with various people I love coping with depression in various ways. Some wrote about it. Some sought professional help. Some made decisions that led to having to seek help.
Luckily for me, they’re all still here.
Some people aren’t so lucky.
So, in honor of Lauren, in honor of those you love, please reach out and let people you know are suffering know that you love and care about them, and that their lives are worth it.
They might need to hear you say those words.