LETTER: Keep talking about mental health
Last summer a dear friend of mine was taken too soon. He died from suicide.
As I got ready for work on a Monday morning, running around slightly frazzled and half unpacked after being in Winnipeg for the weekend, I got a call just as I was heading out the door. I sat at the kitchen table and cried, heartbroken.
It had been a while since I lost someone I knew so suddenly, no chance for goodbyes. Instead all I had were questions, and guilt.
Long story short, we had been disconnected the past couple years, and a few weeks prior to his passing I had been thinking how I needed to reach out to him and catch up. So much had happened- his marriage ended, I got married, both of us were affected by the slumping oilfield economy – he was training abroad, and I’d started a new job. As I drove to work I couldn’t help but think that ‘maybe if I would’ve just called him when I thought about it, I could’ve helped him – maybe even saved him.’ I think these are the natural thoughts that come to mind in a situation like this, and I probably wasn’t the only one thinking these thoughts.