J.A. 🕊

Today the pit in my stomach came back. It just sat there. My mind was racing all day. Feelings. Sadness. Tears. Nausea. Shock. Anger. Confusion. Memories. I experienced it all today... again.
​I woke up this morning with some messages on my phone. The first one I looked at was from a good friend who asked me to call him immediately. I did. He shared that a co-worker of ours had passed away last night. He took his own life. A young man with a young family who was so very well liked. Someone who I interacted with and worked with regularly. I'm heartbroken.
​Since Brian passed, I have heard, been told of, read about, and researched many, many of these stories. I belong to a Facebook group for those who have lost loved ones to suicide, attended charitable events where people have spoken and shared their personal stories, and been part of suicide awareness classes where people have shared. It's all very heartbreaking, it's devastating, but this is the first since Brian so close to home. The first person since Brian I actually knew. It's different. As I said, the pit in my stomach is back.
​I know all too well not to make statements like: Why? He was so liked. Why? He seemed ok. Why? He loved his family and had a family who loved him. Why? He had so many friends. Why couldn't he have thought about his family, friends, co-workers who would've been there for him in a second? Why? I know not to make those statements or ask those questions. But... it's true. WHY? Those whys will haunt you. Trust me, they still do.
​I wasn't at work today; it was a scheduled day off. I can only imagine how solemn and sad it was there. I work in a jail. An already dark and rather depressing place, where we work so closely with one another and support is a must for all of our safety. We are a family who drops everything for each other and runs to help when an emergency happens...literally.
​I am angry that I or any one of my partners at work didn't get that call, that alert, hear that "code blue" sound and go running to our brother in distress.
​I am so beyond sad for his family. Admittedly, I do not know about his family life. But I am still so sad for his family. I understand the feelings, questions, and thoughts that they must have and that they cannot get answers to. I understand the profound, deep sadness and longing for their loved one.
​Today brought back many of those feelings that I felt immediately after Brian passed away. I thought a lot about Brian today, more than usual, and that's a lot! I thought a lot about my partner and his family. I thought a lot about my jail family. I kind of wished in a weird way I was at work today to offer support and be there in any way I could. I am sure they heard it many times today but to re-iterate to them they are not alone!
I hate this. It's November. Men's mental health month. This happens way too much. Way too often. It needs to stop.
​Speaking to some co-workers today, what management and the regional bosses did was nice. They offered support and understanding of what everyone is and was going through. Amazing, but what now? Is tomorrow, the next day, and the next day after that business as usual? Is the support still going to be offered? Because I guarantee it will be needed. Are they going to take their employees' mental health more seriously? We need change and support for the long term, not the short term and not just when something happens. I hope the one positive from this tragedy is that it does start some change at work. We will see.
​Today though is about a man who left us far too early. A genuinely good guy who was always there for you at work and liked by all. A man who didn't deserve what the jail did to him (but I digress) and who certainly didn't deserve this.
​Rest easy partner, you left a positive mark on all of us and the jail. You will not be forgotten Correctional Officer, excuse me, Corporal, Jeremie Anderson.