I am nothing is not verbose and expressive. There is so much I wish I could say. And yet also nothing at all. I wish I knew where to even begin. Even so profoundly deep and demonstrable a mother’s love and the resources afforded from fame and fortune were not enough to save one from the agony of their own mind.

Never did she miss the opportunity to expound about her greatest gift and dearest love. To share so personal and yet explosive a joy as the one that came from raising and knowing her baby boy. Never would she allow him to want for a hug, seizing every chance to embrace, to hold him tight and whisper clear how proud she was and how much he meant.

Happily devoted to giving her child everything possible, how terribly cruel then when it still wasn’t enough, still wasn’t a match for the endless ravages of a tormented mind.

Another bright light gone.

I resonate so much with this pain. I wish I could tell her. I fear so much for the moments she dares blame herself. The same thing I fear most might befall my own mother should she be forced to survive her own mentally burdened child.

“It’s not your fault.”

There isn’t a thing more you could have done for us. Truly.
You loved us enough for multiple lifetimes. Your support was never one we wanted to leave behind, in fact it was likely the one thing that kept us around the longest.

The demons in our head were just stronger. You couldn’t have known, even we didn’t understand and we lived here.

We fought as hard and as long as we could. We tried so hard. Surely you know what that’s like, to fight and give and GIVE. You’d sacrifice everything possible to try and change. You want it more than air. You KNOW you need it to survive.

But sometimes the tides are just so much stronger than your ultimately frail human body could comprehend. It bowls you over and sweeps you under its suffocating currents without mercy. Your muscles are on fire swimming against this current going on decades, a lifetime. Who knows?

You break the surface without knowing if it’s the last time, you gulp precious air but with it treads water. The more you swallow, the more desperate you try to draw in air. But it’s only water now. Heavy. Endless.
Was the air you last tasted even real? Time long since distorted beyond all reason, so who could say? When even was that?

It’s getting dark now. You feel even more tired than usual. Another wave tumbles you like a ragdoll. You don’t even notice anymore. Up, down, it all feels the same underwater this long.

At least it’s getting quiet. It’s almost peaceful. It’s almost.. finally peaceful.
That peace you fought and searched for so long. It’s finally come. What happened?
You don’t know anymore.
You couldn’t.
You’re gone before you could ever realize how far out to sea you’d been swept.

…at the very least, may he now know divine peace.
And may the knowledge of that serve to build comfort for those left behind.