Last night, I had a series of very convoluted dreams, dreams that didn’t really make sense when you juxtapose them all together. In the most vivid dream I had, I was invited to a major conference (who knows what conference it was) to speak about my family’s experience with mental illness and my brother’s suicide. I gave an emotional talk about Ed’s ups and downs, his symptoms, how people responded (or didn’t) to him, and what led to his untimely death. I gave reasons for why we need more awareness and attention around suicide prevention and mental health and why the stigma needs to end. In a crowded auditorium, I received a standing ovation.

After the speech, I was shown photos taken during my time on stage, and I looked at myself in these photos. I looked determined and passionate, as though this was truly important to me, and I wanted everyone else in the audience to know and understand how important this was to society. I thought to myself, if i can’t convince these people why this is important, then I have really failed Ed and his memory.

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