I first met S when I was in my last stint in treatment, in December of 2006. She was a smart and witty 15 year old that had braces and a fantastic weave.
And she’s not here anymore. And it makes me sick.
My favorite thing about S was that she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. In the eating disorder world, so many of us don’t want to make waves, we don’t want to speak up because we value other’s feelings before our own. But not S. She’d speak up if you ticked her off, or if you were breaking some rule at CFC, she’d march right up to you and tell you to knock it off. I used to laugh and roll my eyes at W, because there was little S telling everybody what to do. But she did it because it was right and it was brave and because nobody else dared to do it.
I think about S being gone, about what an incredibly beautiful and talented 16 year old she is. I think about the world not having her anymore. I think about the things she’ll never do, about the family she leaves behind. I think about how lucky I was to know her for the three months we lived with each other 24/7. I think about all the weight she gained in treatment, and I think about how hard it was for her (and me), and I think about us rooting each other on. I think about the strides she made in therapy. I think about when she learned to smile again.
But mostly I think that I hate this murderous eating disorder. I hate that S felt so desperate, so scared, and so loathsome of the life she lead that she felt she had no other option than to leave.
It terrifies me because I realize it could be any one of us. I just got off the phone with my best friend, W, and she was sobbing, and I was empty, devoid of any more tears. We told each other we loved each other, over and over, as if it might be the last time. We cannot let the ED win, let the depression and anxiety that sometimes seems to rule our lives conquer. We are beautiful, intelligent, sane, wacky, flawed individuals. We are good people. We deserve to take up space in this world.
S will be missed. But her life was not in vain. I know that. I hope that she can know that, too.
Friday, September 26, 2008
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13 comments:
I'm sorry, Brie. Sometimes that's all there is to say.
Oh, Brie. I'm sending lots of good thoughts and big big hugs.
Take care.
love, kristin
wow...this is so difficult to cope with and impossible to try to make sense of. it always hurts to see people taken before their time and in cases like this it evokes such anger as well and the mixture of emotion can be so overwhelming...when i've been in this situation i just try to use the anger to propel myself forward in recovery, and fight that much harder. take care. you're in my thoughts.
Brie, this is just tragic and I'm so sorry. I hope that you can take the feelings that have come up from this and use it to spur on your own recovery.
Be well. I love you mucho.
JB
Brie, how truly sad this is. Your post was beautiful in honoring your friend. I know you were that goose trying to help her fly again. My thoughts are with you, your friend, and her family.
Brie, S was amazing. I was in there with her this past time, and she was so freaking amazing. I love her so much. She was funny, sensitive, on the ball, out spoken, just S you know. I always wanted a little sister and S was someone I wanted to say was mine. When I found out I didn't know what to do. Someone I had become so close to was gone and I didn't find out til like 3 months after it had happend. Then I started to look back and wish I was a better friend. When the e-mails randomly stopped why didn't I coax more. But it really opens my eyes, the pain S being gone because ED took her and the pain if I let ED do the same would cause others. I ran that LOVE YOUR BODY race partially for her. She was in my thoughts the whole time. I thought bout her with every racing stride. She is someone I feel honored to have in my life.
I am so sorry Brie. I have never lost a friend to ED (and I hope I never do)... at least, I don't think I have, I didn't keep in touch with the girls from Rogers because my life was a mess and I didn't want that mess to affect them. It pains me when I think that one or more of them might be dead right now. I wish I'd kept in touch with them, messy life or no messy life. I am sorry your friend died. She was so young, and makes me hate ED even more for taking yet another bright, incredible person away from this world.
I'm really sorry to hear about your friend and your grief, and I'm sending hugs and thoughts your way.
[i'm so sorry.
and i'm sorry it was via text.
i feel like a jerk.]
Lana, you're not a jerk. I'm just glad I found out.
Brie,
I miss her so much too. I think of her often and remeber her so dearly. On the days that I struggle most, I think of her, and allow that to push me forward in recovery instead of stepping backwards into the ed, depression, hopelessness and lonliness. Her death was not in vain; I refuse to let it be. Though she is gone and can never be replaced, let's let her be a source of motivation for us all.
Sorry, who's S?
Keely, out of respect for S, I'm not going to publicly announce her identity. I can tell you privately over email if you'd like, but I don't think you ever met her - when we were in treatment, she wasn't there - it was my next time. At any rate, shoot me an email if you wanna know.
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