To Maggie
I apologize if this seems presumptuous, given that I'm rather peripheral to the situation, but I've been wanting to sort through my thoughts on it.
To Maggie:
I first met you when Blayke brought you into the AOA, and shortly after you brought Tim in. Since I was in flux most of the time I'd known you--first with college, then working--I never knew you very well, but you always struck me as a sweet and lively person. It seemed that every time I saw you for the first time in awhile, you'd achieved some major milestone and been doing a bunch of cool things. On quest several years back, you mentioned that you'd been in the Army and had had a daughter. Then just a couple years ago, you'd married Matt, had another kid, and made a home out in the country. And the pixie cut was ravishing--it clearly showed the gray around your temples, displaying your few years past 30 as a badge of honor, part and parcel with your youthful demeanor and outlook.
Reading the many anecdotes on Matt's facebook post, I feel terribly shortchanged that I didn't know you better. I'm as agnostic about the concept of an afterlife as I am about God, but I hope that you have reached a sense of attainment that you maybe could not find in this life, and that at some point those who loved you will be able to share it with you.
To anyone else, myself included: I'm certain she wasn't casting a vote of no confidence in those who loved her. Depression is such a powerful illness that it can supersede appreciation of even the greatest blessings in one's life. As a college roommate of mine who suffers from depression once said, even when everything in your life is idyllic, all the i's are dotted and the t's are crossed, the desolation can still be there. Even a highly rational person can be overtaken by it.
Perhaps the cruelest thing is the sense that she ended up defining herself by despair, in stark contrast to the vivacity, talent, and love by which others knew her, and which undoubtedly made up the best experiences of her life. I suspect Maggie was one of those people for whom the light and dark were two sides of the same coin. A person of almost miraculous passion and energy, capable of both the greatest heights of euphoria and the most grueling depths of despondence. After all, all humans are fundamentally alone, locked inside their own minds. Even the deepest connections with lovers, family, and friends don't completely bridge the gap, but only give the temporary illusion of doing so. I think those with depression tend to feel this very powerfully, whether or not they're consciously aware of it, and it can cause a profound sense of alienation.
Still, while I've tried to reconcile the two in my mind, I find that on some level I can't. The contrast is irredeemable, and I guess one has to acknowledge the grief of it, be racked for it by a good long while, let it flow through you until it drains out into something more at peace. But I for one refuse to believe that Maggie negated or dishonored her life with her death. The demons were as much a part of her as the glittering facets. And the things she stood for, the people and things she loved--when we have a conviction, it becomes a thing in and of itself, intangible but real. It transcends time, so it stands beside her husband, her children, her brother, her parents, everyone she loved, even if she who created it is no longer here. I would bet money that her last thoughts, in addition to a desire to escape despair, were a mental broadcast of love to those she was leaving behind, a prayer that they would find healing and fulfillment. And if we have a sense that she is still with us in another form, why worry whether it's true or not? It's so deeply ingrained in Western society, and many others, that it's hard to shake off. So if it brings comfort, why not harbor it?
Whether Maggie still exists on another plane or is locked in time, I hope that those who have been most hurt by this find a way to make sense of her, and keep her present in their lives in a peaceful way. This is a prayer of hope for everyone in her radius. I love her, what little I knew of her, and I believe she accomplished something beautiful on this earth. All we can do is pick up the banner from her and keep trying.
To Maggie:
I first met you when Blayke brought you into the AOA, and shortly after you brought Tim in. Since I was in flux most of the time I'd known you--first with college, then working--I never knew you very well, but you always struck me as a sweet and lively person. It seemed that every time I saw you for the first time in awhile, you'd achieved some major milestone and been doing a bunch of cool things. On quest several years back, you mentioned that you'd been in the Army and had had a daughter. Then just a couple years ago, you'd married Matt, had another kid, and made a home out in the country. And the pixie cut was ravishing--it clearly showed the gray around your temples, displaying your few years past 30 as a badge of honor, part and parcel with your youthful demeanor and outlook.
Reading the many anecdotes on Matt's facebook post, I feel terribly shortchanged that I didn't know you better. I'm as agnostic about the concept of an afterlife as I am about God, but I hope that you have reached a sense of attainment that you maybe could not find in this life, and that at some point those who loved you will be able to share it with you.
To anyone else, myself included: I'm certain she wasn't casting a vote of no confidence in those who loved her. Depression is such a powerful illness that it can supersede appreciation of even the greatest blessings in one's life. As a college roommate of mine who suffers from depression once said, even when everything in your life is idyllic, all the i's are dotted and the t's are crossed, the desolation can still be there. Even a highly rational person can be overtaken by it.
Perhaps the cruelest thing is the sense that she ended up defining herself by despair, in stark contrast to the vivacity, talent, and love by which others knew her, and which undoubtedly made up the best experiences of her life. I suspect Maggie was one of those people for whom the light and dark were two sides of the same coin. A person of almost miraculous passion and energy, capable of both the greatest heights of euphoria and the most grueling depths of despondence. After all, all humans are fundamentally alone, locked inside their own minds. Even the deepest connections with lovers, family, and friends don't completely bridge the gap, but only give the temporary illusion of doing so. I think those with depression tend to feel this very powerfully, whether or not they're consciously aware of it, and it can cause a profound sense of alienation.
Still, while I've tried to reconcile the two in my mind, I find that on some level I can't. The contrast is irredeemable, and I guess one has to acknowledge the grief of it, be racked for it by a good long while, let it flow through you until it drains out into something more at peace. But I for one refuse to believe that Maggie negated or dishonored her life with her death. The demons were as much a part of her as the glittering facets. And the things she stood for, the people and things she loved--when we have a conviction, it becomes a thing in and of itself, intangible but real. It transcends time, so it stands beside her husband, her children, her brother, her parents, everyone she loved, even if she who created it is no longer here. I would bet money that her last thoughts, in addition to a desire to escape despair, were a mental broadcast of love to those she was leaving behind, a prayer that they would find healing and fulfillment. And if we have a sense that she is still with us in another form, why worry whether it's true or not? It's so deeply ingrained in Western society, and many others, that it's hard to shake off. So if it brings comfort, why not harbor it?
Whether Maggie still exists on another plane or is locked in time, I hope that those who have been most hurt by this find a way to make sense of her, and keep her present in their lives in a peaceful way. This is a prayer of hope for everyone in her radius. I love her, what little I knew of her, and I believe she accomplished something beautiful on this earth. All we can do is pick up the banner from her and keep trying.