Depression lies

Where to start?
I had been thinking that I needed to start blogging again but as with most things I've started lately, I just haven't found the energy to complete that thought.
I thought that today would be a good time to start.
I decided on today because it was a wake up call for me. My husband and I attended the funeral of a man who took his own life. Before you read any further, if you are going to judge this man for his actions, please just leave my page.
This man was a kind, funny, generous man who gave so much of himself to others, I think that he forgot to keep some for himself. His name was Matthew Still. He was a husband, father, son, and friend. We met Matt 3 weeks after our youngest son died. Matt and his wife, Linda, lost their daughter to SIDS the same year that Marc and I lost Devlin but 11 months before us. Matt was at our first meeting. He sat and listened to us talk about the horrifying experience we had just found ourselves in. He listened to our pain and shared his own. In the following months we learned more about each and shared both laughter and tears. In the following years, we would only see each other on occasion as happens with life. I enjoyed Matt very much and he always had a ready smile.
I learned yesterday that Matt was dead and that his service was today. Upon arriving at the church, I found that Matt had taken his own life. This has shaken me to my soul. I would never fathomed the depth of pain that he had kept bottled up. He always seemed so easy going. I had seen him only 3 months ago and would never have dreamed that I would never see him again.
It just goes to show the sorrow that we all hide from the world, partly for our own sanity, partly for everyone else's.
I have been suffering from depression lately and have been in a funk for awhile. I know that a good portion of that is that I keep pushing my grief farther and farther down. I only let myself feel a little at a time. I'm scared that if I let myself feel to much at once, I might shatter into a million pieces and I'm afraid all the pieces will never fit back together again. Devlin's 5th anniversary is coming up in just over two weeks and I feel so raw and bruised right now. I have no emotional energy left today.
I realize now that I need to let myself feel. What is ironic about this is I spend time with parents newer to the grief process and coach them to do this very thing. It is always so much easier to tell someone what they should be doing than to follow your own advice. I know many of them think, as I thought of Matt, that I have it so much more together.
Do I feel that I'm lying to them? No, I think that going through this process, you have to see someone who looks like they are holding it all together so you have something to aspire to and also to know that you can make it through the pain. I think it's also good for them to see both in smaller and not so small ways that after all this time I don't have it all together. It's important to understand that you will always have your rough days in addition to your good days. The more you remember that, the less likely it will hit you upside the head like a sledgehammer and send you into a spiral. Again, it takes constant reminders to be gentle with myself.
I guess what I'm trying to say in a really round-about, rambling way, is that you never know the depths of pain someone is feeling at any given point. If you are that person, find someone to reach out to. As one of my favorite bloggers says, Depression is a lying bastard. Do not let it win. I know this is easier said than done, but you are worth the effort it will take. There is someone out there who will keenly feel your loss even if you are feeling that is not the case.
I will miss your laugh, Matt. I will miss your smile. I am incredibly sad that I could not return the favor you bestowed on me. Rest in peace and know that you will be missed.