I guess it's inevitable that the older you get the more people you know die. There's something about December and the holidays that seem to be an extra common time of year to lose someone. I'm not sure why that is, but it's true. It's been a year since Rio's suicide, a day I don't think I could ever forget. I also found out the other day that a friend of mine from Victoria just died of cancer. It's strange to suddenly have this time of year laced with something other than light-hearted anticipation and time with family. I'm sure there will be more December deaths over the years. There's something  about having a friend's suicide on the mind at this time of year that especially cheapens the aspects of Christmas I already dislike. But death is the most inevitable part of life. I want to a way over time to celebrate a more honest holiday that can incorporate the realistic parts of our lives without it feeling completely bizarre.

tonight i sat in my old room, now turned into a scramble of feng shui attempts, filing boxes and a desk. i hadn't been in this room yet except to pull a crate from the closet but it felt appropriate in that moment as i processed the night's earlier web of phone calls saying rio is dead. 'how?' i asked numbly. but i already knew how; she'd committed suicide. she jumped off a bridge yesterday after what i assume was a particularly grueling week of adjusting to new medication in a transition home. i think of her over and over again in that moment, and all the moments leading up to it over the years, and it hurts to think of her in such desperation. it almost hurts more to think that if she had been distracted instead that there would still be tomorrow, & tomorrow, & tomorrow to try to get through, possibly always returning to that dark tunnel.
i wasn't particularly close to rio through her mental illness but every christmas time we got together and spoke frankly about our lives. it's unreal to think she won't be with us this year. emma was with her a lot of the time and she and i often spoke about the shithole of institutions rio was in, how the fluctuations of meds, schedules, the atmospheres alone where enough to make a person mad. it pisses me off to think she was in the throws of a medication adjustment when she threw herself off a bridge; i can't believe she would have done it otherwise, no matter how desperate this swing into depression was. lee called an old friend who knew rio well and was told, "lou wanted everyone to know rio wasn't in a desperate state when she did it." i balked at that, especially coming from rio's mum. it insulted me, to hear this bullshit transparent attempt to make us feel better. i would like to see someone say rio wasn't desperate while looking me in the face.
a few decembers ago rio and i sat apart from the others at the pub and talked. i was half mad myself that december, bent on psychic happenings and nearly electrically charged. i was talking about an article about monks' CAT scans, how their brains were found highly evolved in certain areas, particularly the area that fires when you are "happy." a physical representation of enlightenment, scientifically captured. rio told me that's what it felt like to be manic. enlightened. like she was so close to it. i saw glimmers of sheer gratitude and joy in her face, but she pulled back and acknowledged the danger and selfishness in going unmedicated, in letting her unadulterated id roam recklessly.
it's cliche but i know it to be true that rio wouldn't want us to be sad about her death. she was always such an optimistic, selfless person and she would want us to carry on, come together like we do each year at this time. we've all wandered so far these last few years and i've been craving a reunion of sorts on a scale far wider than we've been able to manage. at the least, i hope everyone can make an effort to congregate and send all our love to rio as she passes through the waves, wherever that may be.