As you all know, we lost Linkin Park's Chester Bennington just a couple weeks ago. It's been a hard pill to swallow. I found myself having a harder time with it than I expected. With that in mind, I decided to dig into the archives to a piece I wrote in 2014, about a family friend succumbing to demons we never saw.

A few days ago, a friend of my family’s, and many others in the Richmond community died from an apparent suicide; he was 69. Working at Bliley’s Funeral Homes for over 48 years, Nick Bliley went over and above the call of duty to help people meet some of the most difficult challenges in the death of a loved one. Suffice it to say, Mr. Bliley is sorely missed by much of the community. His untimely death, however, brings up an important topic that needs to be discussed.

I know how serious suicide is. I understand the pain it causes a person’s loved ones. It was not until now though that I really “felt” it myself. “I wish I could’ve done more,” “I wish I could have seen the signs,” “I had no idea.” I’ve heard these laments many times, so I was expecting to have those feelings myself, after all, it’s natural. There was a feeling I had though that is virtually ineffable. When I heard the news, I was shocked. I knew this man. I had talked to him several times in my life. We weren’t “buddies,” but I can safely say I knew the man. That is precisely what makes this so different and hard. I can only feel so much when I simply hear about a person I do not know killing themselves. This week’s tragedy was completely different.

I had “the laments,” but I also had this sick, chilling feeling that is absolutely indescribable. This was completely unexpected and that scared me. I felt physically ill thinking about it, so I could only imagine what his loved ones must be going through. What if this were my father? My mother? What if I missed the signs with someone I deeply cared about? After a sort of desensitization over the years, I once again had the sobering thought that this could happen to anyone, including someone very close to my heart. Clearly, not everything is completely preventable, but I have to be able to say I tried. If I have a gut instinct, if something seems ’“off,” with a family member or a friend, I’ll say something. The thought of someone feeling they have no options left is among the worst I can think of. I can’t be there for someone all the time, no one can. What I can do though is let them know they’re not alone, that they do have options, and that someone cares.