The Apology
Dear friends,
I am so sorry. So sorry that I could not be a stronger person. Sorry that I could not escape the demons in my head that mocked and taunted me on a daily basis. The pain I felt was indescribable. No, not the pain of the act itself, but the pain of enduring a hellish existence. From all outward appearances it seemed as though I had it all, but inside…inside was a twisted ugly knot of hate, sorrow, and disappointment directed towards myself. Often did I beat myself up far beyond what any person or bully could do. I recently failed to put enough postage on an important document to be sent out for work and it arrived late. I received a reprimand from my department head and then silently wept in my office for an hour. I just knew that everyone was looking at me and shaking their head in shame at my enormous blunder. They only sense of relief from that pain was the external pain I placed upon myself by driving staples into my upper thigh. You all may not be aware, but I have been on antidepressants on and off since the age of 16. While they do occasionally dull the pain, eventually this monster, this depression has taken over my mind body and spirit. I feel as though the only comfort and relief I can achieve is by leaving this earth. It's funny that I always thought suicide to be a selfish and cowardly act. But as the light in my life has become more and more overshadowed by darkness, I realize it is the only way for me to escape. So do not cry for me dear friends- know that I DID fight long and hard. I DID want to live. It's just that physically, I cannot go on. I want you all to know that I love you very much and have treasured our respective relationships.
Penny looked up from the letter she had been reading aloud at her circle of somber friends. Returning home from work that evening, she checked her mailbox before heading upstairs. Sifting through the usual bills, she came to an abrupt stop when she saw the return sender on a particular envelope. Her purse, jacket and remaining mail fell from her hands and she dropped to her knees right there in the lobby. Shakily, she texted the gang and told them what she had in her hand and to come over IMMEDIATELY. They had all arrived to her apartment in less than 20 minutes. And now as she stood before them reading this letter dated 2 weeks ago, she felt paralyzed in grief – her mouth no longer able to form the words printed on paper. Leonard, sensing her distress stood from his seat on the floor, walked over and gently extracted the paper from her hand. Clearing his throat he continued:
I know that we will all meet again someday. For throughout my entire 30 years I have never know friendship such as yours. Despite my withdrawal and isolation towards the end, that friendship did provide me with shining points of comfort. And so now I will bid you all adieu, and ask that you think fondly of me when you look up at the stars.
Yours truly,
Rajesh Ramayn Koothrapali
Leonard looked up from the letter at his friends who were now mostly openly weeping. Though Raj was buried over a week ago, the pain was still as fresh as the day they received the news that their dear friend took his own life. Bernadette was now cradling Howard's head against her chest as he sobbed, him taking his best friend's death hardest of everyone.
"I should have known! I was his best friend – how could I not know how badly depressed he was?"
No one quite knew how to answer but then Sheldon quietly spoke up.
"People who are depressed and suicidal can be very good at masking their turmoil. Rajesh, having had 14 years of practice, was likely very much an expert at it. I suppose so many years of pretending finally wore him down. He felt as though this was his only escape. There is no way you, me, or anyone else would have known. So to feel guilty would be counterproductive – this was NOT anyone's fault! We shall continue to honor his memory as we see fit and continue to live our lives with an exuberance and joy that he was unable to achieve."
"Yes, perhaps there are ways that we can help others like Rajesh," Amy agreed.
"I have a co-worker who volunteers at a crisis center a few times a month," Bernadette said. "She answer phone calls on a suicide hotline. Maybe we can look into something like that – helping people who feel like there are no other options."
The whole gang, even Sheldon, agreed to this opportunity to make a difference.
And their healing had slowly begun...
Author's Note
Sometimes a story enters my mind and practically writes itself. While terribly sad I also aimed to share some semblance of understanding that depression, while technically a mental ailment, can sometimes manifest itself into constant, physical and unbearable pain. And in this pain comes a lack of concern for those you leave behind should you contemplate suicide - or even a feeling that those you leave behind would be better off. But there IS a terrible aftermath of grief and what-if's to those who are left behind. So there is a definitive before and after - those on each side may take a closer look, gain some knowledge and understanding, and hopefully help someone or reach out for help themselves.
