reclaiming the past.

in my MV interview, I was asked about how I dealt with my best friend taking her own life. answering the question wasn’t the best feeling in the world and ever since that time, I’ve been grappling with the right word to describe the experience. by chance, I found it through my favourite Tumblr website. (:

Sankofa. it’s such a strange word. it’s not in the English vernacular nor is it a term that I would normally use in a day to day conversation. if you know me well enough, the very definition of the word is something I’m not comfortable with for it entails that I open up,  look to the past, and reveal wounds stored in the crevice of my heart as well as deep seated emotions I long to forget. after that day, I naively thought that would be the last of it and it would be the last time I get to explore that part in my life. but yesterday in class, I was forced to confront it again because we happened to discuss mental health and within that topic, suicide.  while not a pleasant feeling, I’d like to think that somehow, God was telling me to acknowledge what happened (yet again) so that I can finally see beyond it and focus on the good that came with it.

if I’m being honest with myself, I hated it. Not my best friend. I don’t know if I could ever hate her. But I hated what she did  and the implications that came with it. I’ve known her my entire life – play dates since we were three years old, Friday afternoons spent in her house, countless hours spent on the phone talking or texting. with all that under my belt, I thought I had her figured out. but obviously, I was wrong. because when I was told of what happened that February night in 2008, I’ve never felt so betrayed in my life. Ever.

I thought best friends were supposed to wait for you after a therapy counselling session; not the reason why you’re talking to a therapist counselor in the first place. they’re supposed to reassure you that you’re a good friend but what she did made me question how I am as a friend because I was so racked with guilt  and the notion that I didn’t do everything I could to stop her from committing such an act. that was the year I graduated 12th grade and I had plans to visit the Philippines. at the last minute though, I backed out. how am I supposed to come home knowing that two blocks down my street exists her house? a house that once echoed with so much laughter and is now a seemingly empty one because her absence is too loud to bear? I couldn’t stomach the thought of bringing flowers and candles and going to the cemetery to be with her either. best friends are supposed to write maid of honour speeches for her wedding day, not a eulogy for her funeral.

in a few days, she’s supposed to turn 25. but because her life ended that fateful day in 2008, she will forever be 18 years old. what she did hurt me immensely and it made me feel things I did not know I was capable of feeling. dramatic as this this sounds, it felt like a part of me died too. despite all that, I wanna thank her.

the reason why I’m going into and studying to be a social worker is because I wanna try and make sure that individuals who might be feeling the same way she felt know that they have someone they can turn to. I wanna make sure that they are heard and their feelings are acknowledged; perhaps validated. I want to be the person that tells them it’s okay to feel the way they’re feeling rather than discount it because to acknowledge it can be the first step that is taken in order to deal with the underlying issues they may have. I’m discerning to be a full time worker because I want people to find peace in Christ. rather than feeling irreparable and dejected, I want people to hope in His light and in His love once more.

I read somewhere that pain doesn’t change you. rather, it reveals who you really are. so here I am reclaiming my past and in the process of doing so, understanding the reason why I’m discerning and why I’m doing everything that I’m doing right now. I’m figuring out who I’m meant to be in the future and what role I’m supposed to play for the society at large. it may not be the most ideal and some people might even say I’m defending what she did but what happened to her and the way it affected me pushed me to really look at life and pain in a different way. see, I used to think of pain as something that can bring you down and hold you back (and it did, for a time), but the grief I felt has allowed me to examine my values and even my vocation in life.