Another Friend Committed Suicide, Please Don't Be Next by Cristy York

In memory of Ethan.

I wish I had been a better friend for you.

In the passing week, I’ve compartmentalized your death into a tiny package, and I stuffed it deep in the crevices of my mind. I wrote a 6 page document and titled it “July Sucks.” You earned a solid page or two in that. I don’t want to look back to check. I sent it to my therapist, who I met with yesterday. We talked about you a bit. We did not dive too deep. I’m not sure I have the capacity, at this current, to handle that depth. The waves thrash a little too much. It’s a little too much to bare. 

I feel my chest tighten, my throat swells up while the floodgates in my sockets seemingly collect the water which holds all the drowning weight. Well, I suppose you must have felt drowned as well. I suppose that’s why you did it, thinking, perhaps, no one would care. We left you there. Figuratively. But pretty literally, no one was there. And all I can think about is this menacing voice in my head, reminding me: Someone should have been there. 

We should have been there for you. I wish we had been there for you. I wasn’t there for you.

I’m sorry. I failed you, friend.

It’ll come out now, I’m thinking of how I’ve suppressed these feelings for an entire week now. I wonder if you had the same thought: “It’ll come out now,” as you pulled the trigger.

“The bullet will come out, the blood will come out, the truth will come out. How I can’t do anything right. It’ll all unleash and they’ll all know. They’ll find a way without me. It’ll come out now, how easy it will be.”

You see, friend, I don’t feel this way about you. I am not affirming these things. I just know from personal experience, that this probably crossed your mind. And it angers me to know - you had these thoughts, and not a single soul was present to banish them. 

“I can’t drown my demons, they know how to swim.” - BMTH

I haven’t wanted to tell anyone, but I can’t help but wonder. What if I had? Would you still be here? Would you have heard my story, and would you have remembered the story and had a change of heart? 

What if I had not burned our bridge? I banished you from my life because of a pesky argument. I ended years of friendship on the premise you were being an arrogant asshole. 

And you were always our beloved, arrogant asshole. We loved you so, like a pesky puppy. You were adored. But I suppose it doesn’t matter now

- because you’re dead. 

We were supposed to love you through it. We were supposed to love you even when you were wrong. We were supposed to allow you redemption. And months later when you reached out to me, I was dry. I was distant. I could have been kinder. 

I failed you, friend. In life and in death, I’ve failed you.

And still I wonder, how your fate might have been changed had I been kinder.

Had I not been caught up in my life. Had I responded more fervently, more attentively to you. Had I extended an ounce of kindness to you when you reached out months ago - perhaps you’d be alive and I wouldn’t be typing this.

If only I had asked how you were. You could have told me you’d been down. We could have talked about depression. We could have talked about hard times. 

I would have talked to you. I would have reassured you that you are going to come out on top.

I would have told you what I’ve been hiding from everyone -

To anyone reading this, if you have any menacing thoughts that occasionally eat you alive, please stay sober.

It’s the most bitter of pills to swallow, and it’s a lesson that can only be learned by experience, but I wish I had talked to Ethan about it - because maybe he would still be here.

I’m not interested in telling everyone, but if you feel the shuddering weight of a self-loathing, convincing mindstate sober, please reach out to me and ask me to tell you a story illustrating why you absolutely cannot get intoxicated. You can’t allow yourself to be consumed by that intimate menace.

Please allow me to remind you, you are worthy. You are kind, and you are loved. So what if you were our arrogant asshole? You were ours, and we want you here. We want your dry humor and your raunchy taste in women. We want your sass. We want your difficultness. Because we want you breathing. We want your laughter. We want your heavy hugs with those dolling puppy dog eyes. 

Your soul. Your beautiful soul.

We wanted you here, friend. Among the living. 


I wish you had stayed. 


Whatever problems or predicament weigh you down, I wish I had been there to lift them, even for a moment. I have so much remorse. You were loved, and valued, of course. 


Why didn’t we do enough? Why couldn’t you have stayed with us?

Mental Illness - A Stigma by Cristy York

You cannot pour from an empty cup. Therefore, your cup alone is the most important cup to refill. Be sure to make the time to refill your own cup before pouring into someone else’s.

Speaking from Experience

I’m going to get personal on this one, and I’m comfortable with myself enough to do so. I am self aware. I am accepting of myself. I am tolerant, I am understanding, I am compassionate, and I hope this helps soothe or encourage at least one person.

In the last few days I’ve had some enlightening conversations and thoughts. In the last three months, I’ve terminated numerous toxicities and focused my energies towards efforts that contribute to my self-growth. I’m changing for the better, and I’m manifesting. If we were to never grow or progress in our lives, I think that would be shameful. You can’t live the same day every year and call that living. There’s more to life.

I have lived with chronic depression and PTSD for the grand majority of my life. I started exhibiting symptoms when I was 4 years old, and I was diagnosed (with chronic depression) when I was 13. It is a daunting, trying illness which is forever constant, restless, and exhausting. It comes in waves. Sometimes I may not feel it at all because the rippling wave is too small to notice, like a slow and broad wavelength. At other times the waves come so fast and with such a mighty pressure I start to feel overwhelmed, as though this is it, that there’s nothing more, that this is some sick joke. It can progress to being debilitating, where the thoughts are so consuming that I’m curled in a fetal ball trying desperately not to move so that I don’t have to feel anymore.

Sounds pretty bad, huh? Let me guess, it sounds pretty C R A Z Y. Gotta love that word.

But look at me. Would you guess I was this way at a glimpse? Could you have ever guessed it if I hadn’t been open and told you?

Being Successful Despite Being “Mentally Ill”

Despite my illness - and I hate to call it that, but that IS in Fact What It Is - I am pretty damn successful. Not boasting, just acknowledging. (It’s okay to be proud of yourself. It’s okay to acknowledge your achievements and your self-worth. It’s also okay to accept a compliment).

Since I was a small child, my mother has always told me that you cannot use bad circumstances as a crutch. Had a bad week? Not an excuse to ruin your life with drugs. Had a violent parent? Not an excuse to hit your partner. Got cheated on? Not an excuse to treat future partners like dirt. Just because you were dealt a few bad cards, does not mean you have the right to piss it all away. You absolutely have to have the strength and the willpower to say,”Fuck it. I AM GOING TO BE SUCCESSFUL DESPITE THE ODDS.”

Your past does not define you. Your illness does not define you.

Despite dealing with chronic depression, I am successful. And you can be too. Don’t let it define you. Just accept it, and utilize coping mechanisms. I am successful, and I will continue to remind myself of my achievements, and I will continue to strive towards more achievements. I will not cease my growth - not now, not ever.

Self affirmations are everything.Telling yourself over and over that you are beautiful, that you are worthy, that you matter, are important exercises to practice every day - not just when you need them.

Speak it into existence, and manifest.

Asking, Giving, and Receiving

I am successful despite my illness. Since I was 16, I have held 9 jobs and I have never (knock on wood) been fired from any. I have always left willingly. Since I was 16, I have paid for all of my expenses on my own. It started with doctor bills, my phone bills, and my clothes. I bought my own car with my own money (twice now), I pay my own rent with my own money, so forth. I put myself through college. I studied - every day - and I was awarded scholarships. I applied for more scholarships, for more jobs, for more opportunities, for more experiences (studying abroad and international mission trips) - I applied and I received. I graduated with my BS in chemistry. I applied for jobs, and I was granted the jobs. I grabbed the bull by the horns, kept it moving, and kept checking boxes.

I have an incredible support team of close friends and my mother. Though my mother couldn’t help financially, she has ALWAYS been there emotionally. She and so many other mentors have rooted for me. A large part of being successful despite having a mental illness is having a SOLID Support Team. You cannot get through this alone, and it is OKAY to ask for help. Ask and you shall receive.

How Does Mental Illness, Whether You Have It or Not, Affect You?

We are all human. We are all susceptible to mental illness. Yes, even you. Don’t be so quick to dismiss the possibility. Afterall, everything and anything is possible, whether or not the likelihood is small or great (Murphy’s Law). We all have issues. We all falter. We are all scared at some time or another. Do you let it consume you? Or do you harness your energy and deal by using positive coping mechanisms?

I’m willing to bet most of us suffer from mental illness, yet most of us are unwilling to admit it, acknowledge it, or reach out for help. There is a global stigma on mental illness. For generations we consistently sweep it under the rug. That is wrong, and we need to change that.

How We As a Society Can Counter Mental Illness

Mental illness is a broad term with vast meanings and degrees. The definition changes depending on what geographical region you are in and even what demographic you’re talking about. Mental illness pervades our society and we need to talk about it. We shouldn’t be ashamed to admit our faults. We shouldn’t be ashamed to admit we need help. We should be taking pride in community, in lifting each other up, in protecting and aiding.

We should be patient enough to pause to open our minds and understand others’ perspectives. We should be kind enough to not tear others down or tear them apart. You absolutely have to be willing to admit your strengths and weaknesses in order to succeed anyway. You have to be willing to admit your flaws, and to make improvements where improvements can be made. You have to hold yourself accountable for your actions.

Furthermore, it is my belief that the best way we can help society is by starting at the foundation: at the communal level. In your neighborhood or in your community - that is your village - and when village members are interacting, paying attention to one another, conversing, and holding others accountable through honest conversations and self awareness, I believe this is when communities flourish in success and happiness.

When I volunteered for the Committee of the Upliftment for the Mentally Ill in Montego Bay, for example, I learned that mental illness in Jamaica could mean you are bipolar or simply elderly, you may have schizophrenia or you may simply be deaf/mute, you may have depression or perhaps you simply do not have access to tools or teachers that could allow you to cope in a healthy manner. I also learned that the word “crazy” is used loosely, but often in a condescending manner - making it ever the more more difficult to have conversations about mental illness.

My point, I suppose, is that we have a global stigma. Everyone is affected by mental illness, because if you’re not suffering from anxiety or depression someone close to you certainly is. In Jamaica, the homeless are considered mentally ill. In America the shooters have been labeled mentally ill (I don’t agree). So what’s the answer? What is mental illness? How do we help each other through this? These are the conversations we need to be having.

I am not all knowing. I don’t have all the answers. I simply know what works for me, and it works if you work it. My hope is that this helps someone. I have my fair share of experiences with negative coping mechanisms, but in my adulthood I’ve developed positive coping mechanisms which I use on a daily basis. Maybe these things will help you.

Positive Coping Mechanisms

My best weapon against chronic depression is complimenting others. Even if I’m having a terrible day, I make the conscious effort to compliment at least one person every day. It brings a smile to my face to make others smile, and smiling is contagious and also scientifically releases endorphins which chemically counter depression.

My next big thing is reaching out. You’re damn right I use my support system: my mom, my friends, my therapist, my partner, my cat. I reach out. I’m not afraid to say “hey, I’m in my head. I need to get out of my head.” I also go do things. I stay active. Hence I am always going to new places, trying new foods, exploring new adventures. If I was to stay inside all day every day, I would be miserable.

Positive affirmations are my new thing. Telling myself every single day that, “I am worth it, I will achieve greatness, everything will be okay,” propels my life in the right direction. If I were to complain every day or mope everyday, then my life would stay the same because I wouldn’t be doing anything about it. By cheering myself on, I am putting good energy into the world and getting good energy out. Energy has wave properties. It matters.

Exerting and Matching Energies

Consider that we are all made of matter - of carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, sulfur, and phosphorous atoms. Simultaneously, we are all made of energy. These statements are also true for everything which resides around us (and within us). Energy manifests itself in the visual realm as moving waves: sound, ripples in water, and even auras. The energy you put out, will hit an object and bounce back. So visualize that when someone says, “Keep that same energy.” What you’re putting out, comes back. Speak it into existence, and manifest your own destiny.

You absolutely have to make the conscious decision to make the effort. Happiness, in that aspect, is a choice, because I choose every single day to not permit my illness to define me or ru(i)n my life. I choose every day, and sometimes have to force myself, to put two feet on the floor, walk out, and find little rays of sunshine in everyday life situations. (My sun tattoo).

Don’t ever consider mental illness a weakness. Only the strong survive. I am strong, and I will continue to persevere. You will too. We got this.

Oh, and comparison is the killer of happiness. Don’t do that. Manifest your own dreams, not someone else’s.

This Puts the "Motto" in "Mottovation" by Cristy York

I am a first generation college student/graduate, and I'm here to tell you that your past or your parents do not define you.

I am blessed to have such a courageous and determined super-woman as a mother. I am blessed to have a mother who taught me to know God, to value those who show love and kindness, and the value of good work ethic. Thank you Momma.

I am blessed to have had good teachers and good mentors who advised me and kept me on the right path.

Neither of my parents went to college. In fact, no one in my family did. No uncles, aunts, cousins etc. My mom quit in 10th grade and she actually got her GED and went to get her CNA certification when I was in high school (Go mom! You da best)! My biological father is a meth addict who has been in and out of prison my entire life. I grew up in a trailer park in rural Georgia.

Now, I have my B.S. in Chemistry from the greatest little university in the world, Georgia Southern. I have a wonderful job with benefits, I live in a condo in Atlanta, and I own my own car.


Never, ever allow your past or your fears hinder you.


Understand that money is replenishable. It's this false idea we've made up and given false value to. You can always lose it, and you can always get more of it. Don't make too big of a deal of it - don't let it control you. This is something I learned while studying abroad in southeast Asia.

Travel! You will hate people who aren't like you if you've been taught to do so. Travel and expand your mind! Allow others to teach you about themselves and their culture. Do more listening and less speaking. You will learn more and you will be able to work with more people, making you the better candidate for a job.

Volunteer! Understand that when you do for others a part of you becomes vulnerable to empathy. Strive to put yourselves in others shoes, because one day could be the day you fall off the pedestal.

Work hard, and stop complaining. You gotta work a 10 hour shift and miss hanging out with your friends? Stop complaining. You got a roof over your head and food on the table don't you?

Count your blessings daily. You've had a hard day? Think about and list the items for which you can be grateful for. That will level the playing field.


Live like there's no tomorrow, because tomorrow is never promised.


Never be ashamed of where you came from.

Take pride in your lessons and the people you've encountered.

Take pride in your mistakes and vow to make choices that promote you rather than hinder you.

Be kind to others and doors will open.

Never stop learning. You can always improve yourself, til the day you die. You can always push yourself just a little harder, just a little further. You can always do better, so do it.


Education is key. Learn. Get out there. Be kind. Work hard.

Be humble.