Debra

In 2001, I started a new job at a bank.  I started off working as a receptionist at one of the branches.  After a couple of months, they moved me to the corporate office.  I soon after became the Administrative Assistant to the Corporate Secretary and an HR Associate.  I really enjoyed my job, but it was difficult at times.  The CEO was a tyrant and the President was just downright evil.  Both of these factors made my job more difficult than it needed to be, particularly being in the HR Department.  The one redeeming quality of my job was the people I worked with (aside from the jerks at the top of the food chain).  I met some wonderful friends there, some of whom I still remain friendly with.  I was laid-off from the bank in 2003.  I was ready to go and had already been updating my resume to begin looking for a new job, so the layoff was divine intervention.

One of the people I met during my employment at the bank was a sweet, shy, lady named Debra.  Initially, she was a friend of my friend, Jackie.  Jackie started working at the bank about a week after I did.  She was such a friendly, free-spirited person.  Jackie is the type of person who has never met a stranger.  She is friendly and funny.  I'm initially a little shy when I first meet people, but Jackie makes it impossible not to like her.  Jackie and I started going out to lunch pretty regularly.  Debra's office was pretty close to Jackie's desk, so before long, Jackie swooped in and recruited this terribly shy lady, Debra, to go to lunch with us.

After my employment at the bank ended, I still continued to meet up with Debra and Jackie for an occasional lunch.  Jackie moved out to the country and started a new job.  We lost contact, but Debra and I remained friends.

I started working out in the same area of town again, so Debra and I would meet for lunch about once a week.  We became closer and closer.  It wasn't long before Debra was one of my best friends.  We would go to the movies, go shopping, have lunch, and just enjoy spending time with one another.

I learned more and more about Debra and the more I learned, the more my heart ached for her.  Both of Debra's parents had passed away when she was in her early twenties.  She had one brother who lived all the away across the country in Washington State.  She didn't really have any other close relatives that she could rely on.

Eventually, Debra revealed to me that she suffered from Bi-Polar Disorder, Depression, and Crohn's Disease.  She spent quite a bit of time in and out of the hospital with issues related to her Crohn's Disease.  She also spent some time in psychiatric care related to her Bi-Polar Disorder and Depression.  No matter what she was going through, I tried to stick by her side.

Sometimes, Debra would make sticking by her side very difficult.  If she was struggling, she would push people away.  Sometimes, she would take a single comment out of context during a conversation and get angry.  She wouldn't talk to me anymore.  It would take me weeks of phone calls and emails to finally get her to talk about what was bothering her.  Eventually, she would come back around and everything would be fine.

On one particular occasion, Debra and I were having lunch.  At the time, my father was deep in the grips of depression related to his cancer treatments.  He had stopped taking his anti-depressants and was really making life difficult for my family at the time.  I said to Debra, "My Dad is depressed and just wants to sit around feeling sorry for himself instead of getting the help he needs."  From this simple statement related to my father, she inferred that I thought all depressed people sat around and felt sorry for themselves.  She got very quiet during lunch and then wouldn't talk to me for two weeks.

Debra and I started talking about church one day.  She was telling me that she had started attending a Bible study group at her church.  I was also doing a small group Bible study at my home with a few friends from church.  We had just finished doing a really great study called "Experiencing God."  I sent an email to Debra that said something like, "I know you said you were going to a Bible Study group.  Your group should try the Experiencing God study.  It's awesome!"

From that simple statement, she inferred that I didn't truly believe she was going to Bible study because I prefaced the statement with "I know you said..."  She actually stopped talking to me for over a year based on this simple statement.  I kept calling her and leaving voicemails.  I sent emails.  I sent cards through the mail.  I did everything I could to restore her trust and regain her friendship.  Sometimes it was hard.  I wondered if it was worth the time and trouble.  I felt that God was telling me to stick by her, no matter what.  I was so heartbroken during that time that I started seeing a therapist to deal with the pain of losing her friendship.

She finally came back around and we rekindled our friendship.  I loved her.  She was kind and generous. 

She was no only battling Crohn's Disease, but she was also battling mental illness and depression.  She always wore long-sleeved shirts, no matter what the weather.  I never commented on it, but I had suspicions that she was a cutter.  My suspicions were confirmed one day while we were at the movies.  She was looking through her purse for her wallet and her sleeve got pushed up on her arm.  On her forearm, there were probably 20 fresh cuts.  I quietly talked to her about it.  I told her if she was ever struggling, she could always call me, no matter what.  I didn't care if it was 3 am, she could call me.  She told me she was going to stop doing it.

On August 30, 2012, my life changed drastically.  I became a Foster Mom to 3 children, ages 8 months, 19 months, and almost 3.  To say my life was chaotic from that point forward would be the understatement of the century.  For the next 6 months, I was constantly sick from the cooties the kids brought home from daycare.  I didn't have time for friends.  I barely had time to shower, so I definitely wasn't making plans with my friends.  I still spoke to Debra on the phone, but I wasn't able to spend time with her.

Debra had started pulling away from me again before I got the kids.  It got even worse after I got the kids.  We would have brief telephone conversations, but we weren't able to get together.  Debra had lost her job and had moved out of her apartment.  She was temporarily living with her cousin. 

In February 2013, I got sick with pneumonia and ended up in the hospital.  I spoke very briefly with Debra on the telephone while I was in the hospital.  I apologized for not being able to spend time with her.  I told her that when I was feeling better, I would really like to get together with her to catch up.  She was distant on the phone.   She told me she was about to move again, but she wasn't sure where.  She told me she would call me when she got settled.  This is the last conversation I ever had with her.

I continued calling her mobile phone and it always went to voicemail.  I would leave her a voicemail every time.  I called at least once a month, but she never returned my calls.  I tried to send letters and cards, but when she moved, she didn't provide a forwarding address, so my cards and letters were returned unopened.  I was heartbroken, but I had children to take care of, so I couldn't dwell on my sadness.

A few months ago, I tried calling her again, only to be dumped into voicemail again.  A few weeks after that, I had a dream about Debra.  In the dream, Debra came to me and said she was fine and I didn't need to worry about her anymore.  She looked young, beautiful, and happy.  When I woke-up, I knew in my heart that my friend had died and she was speaking to me from Heaven.

I took my phone into the bathroom (so the kids wouldn't see me cry) and searched the obituaries.  It turns out that Debra had died a year ago, July.  She didn't have many friends as she had pushed them all away.  I had never met any of her cousins and I had only met her brother once.  No one called me.  I have no idea what happened to my dear friend.  I don't know if she died from complications related to her Crohn's Disease.  I don't know if she committed suicide.  I don't know what happened to her.  I didn't get to attend her funeral and I didn't get to say my goodbyes.  I sobbed quietly in my bathroom for 10 minutes, then I had to be a mother again. 

I do know that I loved her.  She was my friend.  She was a beautiful person who struggled with mental illnesses and physical illnesses.  She was kind and generous.  She was shy and sweet.  I miss my friend.  I hope that she knows how much I loved her and how much I wish I could have been there for her.

If you know someone who is struggling with mental illness, do everything you can to be there for them.  Even when they push you away.  You never know when it will be the last time you talk to them.