Camille

Yesterday (16 Oct) marked 12 years since my very dear friend Camille died. She committed suicide in her parents garage in the wee hours of the morning. After coming back from a psychologically damaging student exchange in Germany she had found she had no place in her group of friends and made the choice to end her life.

I was 17 and a year ahead of her at school. Despite being her neighbour I found out at lunchtime. But it didn't hit me until the last period of the day when in the middle of Geography I bolted. JD followed me down and called Mum for me. I remember going next door and telling her mother "It will all be ok". I remember the day like it was yesterday.

I could tell you all about the next few days, the next few weeks and the next few years, but I won't because it would take to long.

Camilles' death has had a prolonged effect on my life. I lost my best friend that day, but I feel like I lost so much more too. Much more than I can or want to go in to here. I find that the older I get the more her death effects me, or the more I realise how much her death actually did effect me. I go through phases of blaming myself for not being a better friend, I go through phases of missing her terribly, and I go through phases where I'm angry that she did it and it changed my life.

If she hadn't had done it I wouldn't be the person I am today, but I think (or I have to believe) that she made the best choice for her. I recently heard a quote that I think is perfect - "We do the best we can with what we have". I do wonder what my life would be like if I hadn't lost a friend at such a young age.  .  .  .