No Bow

I don't mean to harp. I feel I did the memory of Caleb Carter justice in my last blog and on the "News Desk." So this entry is not meant to memorialize him in any way, but since the "Diary" is a an account of what's going on in my personal life, I must say I've found it difficult to think of much else lately.

I can't.... shake it off, if you will.

Which is strange for me and has, at moments, been infuriating. I pride myself on being able to be "one foot in front of the other" and I like to compartmentalize. I'm a control freak. I can't control when this sadness comes and goes. And that, in turn, makes me mad. I despise being unable to wrap something up with a neat little bow. It's a fault of mine, to be sure.

I understand why he did it now. Caleb was diagnosed with manic depression and was being weened off of the drug Paxil. So many of his friends have made comments to me about how Caleb had just gotten a new job, movie offers, there was a new love interest in his life, so many things to be happy about. So they are confused, naturally, as to how he could be so depressed.

The thing is, clinical depression -- REAL depression -- has nothing to do with anything that's happening in your life. Caleb could have just become a millionaire and he would have felt the exact same way. It's an illness that prevents one from being happy about anything and from feeling good about their life.

So the only "why" I have is why my friend was afflicted with manic depression while the powers that be graced me with manic... enthusiasm, I suppose.

Is it all just a game of luck?

I'm trying to hold strong to the idea that he is in a better place, that this is what he wanted, that he is happier now. I'm trying to hold strong to my spirituality and remember that we will meet again some day and continue our journey.

I am trying not to be selfish and only think of how desperately I just want my friend back.

I am often, unfortunately, not succeeding.