I know all the right things to say.

I’m a mental health ambassador. I volunteer with mental health charities. I speak to youth organisations and parents. I wear my green ribbon. I write about managing your mental health on my blog and social media accounts. I do this everyday.

I know all the right things to say.

But on the 29th of May 2016 none of that mattered.

On the 29th of May all of the right words fell short.

On the 29th of May a little bit of my world ended.

On the 29th of May I was given the news that someone I loved had taken their own life.

When that news comes there are no words………

But there are questions, and guilt and wishing.

Wishing you could speak to them, wishing you could have done something,                  wishing that you could turn back time.

There is numbness. Disbelief.

There is part of you gone forever.

Jen was a huge part of my childhood and early teens.

She was a close friend of my mother’s and always around.

She was empathic and generous and she loved writing.

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She loved poetry and prose and literature.

She was never afraid to show how much she cared by sending poems and quotes about love and joy to those in her life and it inspired me to do the same.

During my teens and early twenties I took to making my friends mix CDs of their favourite songs and writing them poems when they were sad.

I give Jen’s influence all the credit for why I’m still close to my school and college friends.

She inspired me to always keep writing and that eventually readers would follow,

so I did……and they did.

I wrote poems and left them on bulletin boards in colleges and cafes. I wrote pieces for small magazines and newspapers. I posted my writings on Deviant Art and blogs. Eventually the readers came.

I was asked to write for websites and books and shows. I finally got there.

But when I did get there I learned it wasn’t the important part.

They say dance like no one is watching well I wrote like nobody was reading and learned to love writing for the joy of writing.

No ego trip, just love.

But that was the essence of Jen, no ego, just love.

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I sit here writing and regretting that I never told her any of this.

That she was someone I looked up to.

That she had inspired me to pursue writing.

That she helped me become the person I am.

I can never tell her these things now, all I can do is defend her memory by never forgetting her and by not letting this sad ending over shadow a beautiful life.

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If you are reading this and suffer with depression know this –

Your life is important

Your life matters to other people

Your life helps the lives of others

Suicide is a permanent solution to temporary feelings.

It creates a tidal wave of pain that destroys everyone who loves you.

There have been hundreds of posts on Jen’s page since she passed from friends and family wishing they could have her back.

We will never stop wishing that.

Let people you love know you need help or contact one of the mental health charities below

ReachOut

Samaritans

Aware

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In loving memory of Jennifer Miller

1968-2016