Mom,

I read your letter and I listened to your songs –
all day and related.  

It brought out a part of me…

that’s been dormant a long time but,

I welcome it back

because it gives me perspective.

I haven’t really told anybody this and it is hard for me to…  

I am literally shivering as I type,
but I have to get this out.

My last great bout of depression was in
the late-winter 2015 / early-spring 2016.  

I spent the better part of a month in bed.  
This is part of the reason why I failed so many classes in school.  
I couldn’t bring myself to get up and face the day.  
I couldn’t get myself to go to school.  
I could barely get up to walk Bailey.  
I didn’t eat much but I drank…  
I was locked in a vicious cycle.

I would leave sometimes at night, to go to the bar, to buy cigarettes and to acquire drugs (███, ███, ███, ███, whatever).

This was a period of extreme poverty for me as well.  
I sold many of my belongings to upkeep my despair.  

The crushing realities
of life and death
came upon me- all at once.  
I was totally incapacitated.

Somehow I made it through.  
I attribute it to my family, friends and of course Father Time.

Part of this was caused by MC’s passing.  

He was my first mentor.  

He was a great man.  

I hadn’t seen him in years but I had always expected to again.  

I wanted to make him proud
and have some great accomplishments when I did.  

I’ll have to wait for the next life now.  

I am really not sure why it affected me so much.  
It was absolutely devastating.  

For weeks,
I cried over his loss until I came to terms.

He gave me many lessons which I carry in my heart.  

He taught me to love and appreciate music,
specifically the Grateful Dead.

The other major factor of my depression…

aside from my out of control substance abuse

was when Matt came back in my life…

I loved him.  He was my best friend, someone I’ve seen almost every day since we were 5… and we did everything together.  Some time in our early 20’s we split paths.  

He went deeper down the rabbit hole than I intended for my self.
He surrounded himself with all of the lost souls of my generation.  
I knew he was using even though he never admitted it to me.  

He was too ashamed to say anything
but I knew, my grapevine extends far.

I know more than I should.

Heroin destroyed so many lives and so many families in ████ ███.  I have more dead friends than a 26 year old should.  That is just my reality and I have come to terms with it now.

Mostly, my terms are to suppress it and then it comes out at the most inconvenient times

That’s why I was hesitant to be sent to ████ for my job.  That city is the epicenter of the epidemic.  Lucky for me everyone who knows me there is either dead, in jail, prison or otherwise missing.

Anyway.

Matt had been in and out for jail for a few years.  I’ve wasted my money bailing him out, hoping he cared about me but he would hang out for a day or so then disappear, again.

I still remember this night in 2016.  

I was already in my depression.  

My other good Catholic school friend, M███, came over to my apartment on ███ Street.  He brought goodies to cheer me up. We did a very powerful type of ████ and went to a punk show.

It was so weird.  

I was tripping hard
but I was happy.  

All of my friends were there.  

It was wild and crazy.  
Everyone was so happy.  
The music was loud
and there where a hundred kids
packed in this shitty Riverwest Bar.  
We were spilling out into the street.  

The lights of passing cars where blurring and leaving trails.  
I could barely hold my beer.  
I was shivering from the drugs
but I was surrounded by the best friends I have
so I was in a good place.

Things started getting weird
when I saw some of my ex-coworkers.  
I had recently quit my job at C███ (again)
because I couldn’t bare to leave the house.  
They saw I was fucked up
and happy
and with my friends
and snubbed me.  
I didn’t care because I didn’t like them anyway.

Everything was going good.

Then I got a text from Z███ .

“Matt and C████ just showed up on my porch…”

I had to do one of those double-takes.  

I couldn’t believe it.  I couldn’t talk.  

Matt was supposed to be in jail
and I didn’t know he was getting out.  
I texted Z███ that I was on my way over.

I got M███ and shook my phone at him.  
I shook my phone at S███.  
I shook my phone at R███.  

I couldn’t speak and I didn’t realize I was crying,
they read the texts and understood.  

The four of us,
all fucked up and drunk,
all boys from ████
who grew up together
journeyed across the river
on foot for a few miles
to get to Z██’s house
in the Lower-East side.  

I was so excited that I could finally see Matt again.  
I had so much to tell him.
I hadn’t seen him in so long.  

I kept thanking the boys for coming with me.

We made it to Z██’s
and I charged up the steps
and burst through the door.  

Z██ didn’t even know we were coming,
he didn’t read his text.  

There I saw Matt,
on the couch,
just chilling.  

My mind was racing as I ran up to sit next to him
and my over-stimulated brain just went off.  

I tried to fit a years worth of information in 5 seconds.  
He was barely responsive.  

Said he hadn’t smoked ███ in a long time
and was just really high and tired.  

He was playing Settlers of Catan
with T██, Z███ and their roommate.  

He seemed so uninterested in me,
in everything.  

M██ tapped me on the shoulder and held out a cigarette.  
R███, M██ and I went outside for a smoke.  

It was then that M███ grabbed R███’s bottle of Vodka, chugged it,
handed it back to R███,
walked into the street and just yelled,

“FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK”

at the top of his lungs.

I looked at R███ and he had his head slung low.  

My naive excitement and eagerness to see Matt

faded

as I realized

he was faded.  

His time in jail served only to reinforce his heroin addiction.

R███, S███, M██ and I left.  
Angry and upset.  
Our highs and drunks lost.  
We were angry, upset and betrayed.
Again…

All that time and Matt didn’t care for us at all.

That ruined me.  

It set me back so far.  

I plunged into worse depression.

I saw Matt three times after that.  

He didn’t have any clothes, so-
I gave him some pairs of clothes,
a hat,
some button pins,
and my favorite hoodie.  

Another time he came over,
asking for his video games back
so he could pawn them for “cigarette money”
to which I stupidly gave in.  

I know what he bought with that…

The other time Matt came over after promising to hang out.  

He did.  

M███ was over
and J███ (another ████ boy)
who drove ALL the way from H████,

drunk,

just to see Matt.  

We took this picture  (see attachment). That was the last time I ever saw him or probably will again.  It hurts still.  To lose someone like that.  I have come to terms, unhealthy terms.  I use all of those pent up emotions, anger, frustration, hate, and love to fuel my daily tasks.

Occasionally, it gets too much for me and I have to hide and contemplate, but I bounce back.  I carry him in my heart, but I don’t pray for him anymore.  That is one of my many crosses to bare.

Editor’s Note (12/8/2025): I am screaming at myself for this conclusion, you stupid fucking idiot… You still had so much time at this point in the story. You fucked up.