Shamelessly stolen from Facebook
I've started and restarted and erased and started again and deleted and read other posts and closed other posts and I just don't know (I hate that I just don't know).
I don't understand.
I knew you hurt. I knew you struggled. I knew you had your demons. But I didn't know (I hate that I didn't know).
I refused to believe it.
As I waited for confirmation (nonononono), to find out it was true (nonononono), to learn it wasn't just some kind of fucked up joke (nonononono), I rocked back and forth chanting my nonononono mantra like some kind of talisman with the power to FIX everything.
It didn't work (I h.a.t.e. that it didn't work).
I had therapy the evening I found out we'd lost you. I went in there a hot mess: she took one look at me and said, "You're not okay," and I lost it. Again. (I spent a couple of hours bursting into sobs, scaring the shit out of the poor dog who could do nothing more than lie at my feet and whimper in solidarity. Thank god for him.)
I told her I didn't feel I had the right to grieve, since I didn't know you-know you, that my grief was selfish. Grief's funny that way, though: it sneaks up on you in ways you don't expect in moments you don't see coming. And just like everyone grieves differently, everyone affects people differently, like you did, Stacy.
I told her that perhaps the worst thing about suicide is that we wait until it's too late to tell the person how much they meant to us, what a difference they made in our lives, how much they mattered, how much we loved them (I hate that I waited). Sadly, I've seen it more times than I care to count, and all I've ever been able to think was, "God. If you could only SEE how much love there is for you here." That being said, this is partially our... fault. I'm not saying it's our fault someone makes the decision to die by suicide; however, it's kinda our fault for not being more forthcoming with kind, loving words until after the fact.
We discussed the decision you made and how undoubtedly this wasn't a decision you didn't come to lightly, that whether or not I liked your choice, it was one to respect because it was yours. I didn't walk your path. I didn't wear your shoes. I didn't fight your demons. I cannot judge your decision.
"You still have work to do. You’re still letting Them win. You will stop this, but you will never forget.Your wise words ring true. I only wish they had returned to you in time (I hate that you didn't somehow magically stumble upon this and that it didn't somehow magically make everything better). I hope to hell you have found peace - that's all I want for you now.
You will suffer loss of people you love; a loss to death, argument or time. You will be, at times, so consumed with grief that you don’t think you can go on, that going on without your loved one isn’t even worth it. You will get through it. Cry, let yourself grieve. The tears will stop, I promise. It will take some time, but you will find peace in the memories. You will know that they are always with you, that you’re never without them in your heart." From Stacy's letter to herself 20 years in the future - this is a hard read.
I'll never forget you, Stacy Fucking Campbell.
Love always and forever,
Chibi Fucking Jeebs
*Please don't get your knickers in a twist: this was a running joke she had with more than one person.