People Who Died
As I grow older and move deeper into my 40s, I finally “get” that Jim Carroll song “People Who Died”. It actually resonates now. It used to just sound like punk rat a tat noise to me. I always admired Jim for his ability to bare his soul, share his trauma and create something from a stolen childhood.
I lived around the corner from Jim Carroll when I first moved to Seattle in the mid 90s. Jim was staying with someone at the Marvin Gardens apartments on Belltown. I’d see him at the little needle park (on Bell st?) talking to junkies and hustlers. Belltown was pretty gritty then but, I imagine, kind of chill compared to NYC life. Seattle in the 90s had small town grit, “gritty lite” I guess. I’d walk around the neighborhood hoping to catch a glimpse of him. I was (mostly) fresh from the California suburbs and seeing Jim in my adopted city was the icing on the cake. He was like a debauched Saint to me and viewing him walking, slowly down 2nd Ave, in his heavy overcoat, always smoking a cigarette, was confirmation from the universe that I’d made the right choice in moving to the Seattle. One time I mustered up the courage to say hello in front of the corner store. I said “I really loved the basketball diaries, you’re a genius!” (When I was 20 I called people “genius” a lot). He smiled a tired smile and said “Hey thanks. That means a lot to me.” Jim died in 2009.
Thinking of how, in my early 20s death hadn’t touched me. I knew no one, close to me heart, that was ill or dead. We were all so strong, untouchable, seemingly timeless. I lived so completely “in the moment” then. I was like a butterfly or bird. I did have my own struggles but mostly I remember feeling so free and whimsical. Each day was a mystery to be revealed. I truly felt magical experiences and my next great love, were just around every corner. And they were!
When I was 18, in college, a girl in my psych class killed herself. She shot herself in the head over the weekend. On Monday the teacher said “Sally won’t be coming back, she’s gone.” I didn’t know Sally but wondered what dark secrets drifted around within her that led her to take that leap into the other side. I had barely noticed her. She wore Bob Marley T-shirts, that’s about all I remember.
My great grandmother had died when I was 13. I remember seeing her, the only open casket funeral I’ve ever been to, and thinking I’d have done a better job on her makeup. The lifeless shell of her body had the thickest pancake makeup, in too dark a color, pasted onto her face. She wore a tarty medium, pink lipstick that was all wrong for her non frivolous nature. She would have worn a burgundy lip.
Once I hit 40 though, the deaths started rolling in-
in 2010 J. got in a fatal car accident, driving drunk.
in 2012 an ex overdosed.
in 2015 M. lost her battle with Cancer.
in 2015 S. who was so kind and sweet and one of my most magical girl friends hung herself.
a few years later A. overdosed on heroin/fentanyl.
and there have been so many more…
today I heard that S. (a friend I haven’t talked to in over a decade) was found dead in his car after being missing for a week.
My heart is open even more today as I think of him and all of them. I am feeling deeply into what this life on earth is. I am tasting grief and the surprising ways it shows up. I cherish the moments in memory that I reflect upon. I honor brief moments shared, always in laughter and creativity, with these bright souls that burned out too early and had so many potential gifts to share with the world. I curse this fucking pandemic, it’s mismanagement and the depths of pain and loneliness this year has abandoned so many sensitive people to.
I’m one of those highly sensitive souls (with childhood wounds and trauma) and I have to work really hard to stay balanced. Supporting myself and keeping my energy bright is a full time job. I can’t drink alcohol at all. AA has helped me tremendously (and it’s free). I have been in psychotherapy for years. (Praise be to Carl Jung!) I do dozens of little things every day to remember myself and move onto a path of healing and beauty. I have a spiritual life that is the center of my universe. Pain tries to pull me away from the sweetness, I have to turn towards love and love and love over and over.
This year has been so hard! I’m not sure if there’s a point to this or even a solution to offer. I’m just thinking about my dead friends and how they were struggling and/or delicate. I wish I could’ve helped them. I see people struggling now and we are all feeling challenged to varying degrees. I guess my only advice is-Don’t wait for someone to save you or help pull you out of whatever funk you’re in. You’ll have to help yourself.
Does that sound awful? I really think It’s the truth. Most of us are in survival mode and a hero is not gonna show up to help because we are all frazzled and freaking out. We have to start taking small steps to help ourselves. Long walks outside, away from phones, get moving-try to get unstuck and getting a dr/therapist on board is a start.
And if you actually are feeling amazing, and thriving and not flipping out right now, please reach out to friends and offer what support you can. Even a few daily text messages to check in with loved ones, can mean the world.
We are all magic, pushed into bodies. Starstreams that have come to life and now walk, talk and breathe. We get here, to this planet, become embodied and often lose our way and get stuck in painful ruts. I’m sitting here in front of a candle, crying sacred tears, sending love and peace to those who are gone too early. I miss you, I loved you all.
xo Mindy Sue