Reappeared

One of my friends sort of disappeared this year, fell off the face of the earth, incommunicado.  This is nothing new with with him, but usually I reach out and maintain the contact, make the effort if he’s been silent for a while.  He’s got a little something going on with depression, and when he gets down, he gets waaaaaay down.

Somewhere in April was the last time I saw him in person, and he’s always been one to show up at my office at random to say howdy and catch up for a few minutes for all the years I’ve been at my job.  With the exception of some text message exchanges, I haven’t seen him all this time.  I was thinking about him around my birthday, something along the lines of “that selfish mofo better not forget my birthday” but I wasn’t about to call him or text him; he needed to hold up his end of things for once without my leading him along.

The ol’ birthday came and went without a peep from him.  He showed up at my office this week unannounced, just popped up outta nowhere like a Whack A Mole, so the first thing I do is punch him in the arm really freakin’ hard for missing my birthday.  And I punch him again for disappearing all this time. 

He apologizes and tells me how he’s been in the midst of the worst depression of his adult life, how he’s failing his college classes, got let go from his job, hasn’t been leaving the bed.  Oh.  Crap. So now I feel like an ass for not checking in on him, for waiting around in a stubborn funk for him to communicate with me while he’s been lost in some horrible dark head trip all along.

It was a relief to see him and upsetting all at once, but I was glad he came.  His mindset wasn’t good, and after some conversation, found out that while he’s seen therapists, he’s never tried a prescription to help his depression.  I am fairly anti-medication myself, so I understand where he’s coming from; I will suffer with something for years before I’ll consider taking a pill.

I convinced him to at least seek out a doctor and try something new.  I followed up with him the next day to make sure he’d been to the college health center.  He went, got a referral to see a psychiatrist so the psychiatrist and doctor can work together to find out what meds will work best for his type of depression.  He’ll see the psychiatrist in a day or two.  I’m really happy he’s open to trying something new, that he’s acknowledging that his depression is out of control this time.

I’m mad at myself a little for being a stubborn jackass and not checking in on my friend.  I know I can’t fix the mess in his head and that the bad spot he’s in now has nothing to do with me, but if I’m his friend, I have to accept him, depression and all.  So next time, I won’t let half a year disappear, refusing to be the one to make contact; I will accept that sometimes he goes silent because he gets lost, down, afraid, and that it’s no failure to shoot him a text message if I haven’t heard from him in a while–it’s the right thing to do.