Reesey D.
Photography by Satya Yalamanchi
Dear Reader,
Reesey’s letter describes her personal journey with grief following the suicide of a friend. We advise those who may be triggered by this topic to exercise caution when reading this letter. If you are struggling please reach out to one of the resources listed on our Resources Page.
Sincerely, The Team of IfYoureReadingThisDuke
If you’re reading this, allow yourself to feel and show it all.
One of the most important lessons I have learned over the past three years is that life can be cruel and uncertain, yet it can also bring love and light when we need them most. Life is painfully beautiful because of these contradictions.
In the month leading up to my first semester at Duke, my friend Tommy, our beloved gentle giant, took his life after a cruel and relentless battle with depression. He was only 18. For months, I struggled to find a way out of my grief. It was only at my breaking point – culminating in a panic attack in the Marketplace lobby – that I understood the only way through this pain was to confront it head-on. Instead of hiding my pain, I talked about it; in the face of the unknown, I let grief be my guide.
Nine months later, loss crept back into my life when my friend Yasmin passed away unexpectedly. Yasmin was an incandescent light. Her unconditional love traveled to every corner of the world that she visited. Knowing her was – and forever will be – one of the greatest privileges of my life. She was only 19.
I was angry. I was in pain. This time, I refused to hide my grief. I chose to live. I chose to love. I allowed myself to feel it all – the weight of their absence and the ubiquity of their light. Knowing I could not face any of this alone, I leaned on friends, family, and the kindness of strangers for support and sanctuary. They were with me every step of the way.
Grief, much like life, is fraught with contradictions. There are moments of paralysis, isolation, sorrow, and yet, the sweetness of loving – and being loved – finds its way back.
We cannot shy away from these conversations – about death, loss, heartbreak, and failure – simply because they are difficult. If we can only revel in the moments when everything goes right, we rob ourselves of the experience of living. The old adage rings true: to know love is to know loss. But to never love is to never live at all.
We cannot predict whether we will be here tomorrow, in the same way that we cannot know if a conversation with a loved one will be our last. What we can do is be honest with ourselves. We can abandon the highlight reel. We can wear our emotions like a badge of honor. We can find solidarity in this collective experience. We can build a better support system.
So allow yourself to feel and show it all – the grief, the heartbreak, the exhaustion, and the boundless joy.
You are stronger than you could ever imagine.
Reesey D., Duke University
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