The many young men

I’m wondering what it is about certain young men, that takes them to a place of dark thoughts, dark rivers.  What do they see, that the rest of us don’t?  Many of these particular young men (some of whom spent time in our home) live with severe or intermittent depression (and other emotional or psychological diagnoses), and while brilliant in intellect, communication, and artistic talent, there seems to be a missing component…or several.  What do they see, that we don’t?

I use the word “missing” only because it works within my sense of what’s necessary to stay connected to this world.  Perhaps, there’s nothing missing at all, but quite the opposite.  Perhaps, they see things from a perspective that is alien to the majority of us, and through their special lenses, choose lives of risk and freedom for a greater purpose than we can imagine. 

Nick Drake, was in his 20s when he died from an overdose of amytriptiline (in 1974), an antidepressant that is still today (34 years later) regularly prescribed (in the U.S. anyway) for depression, sleep disorders, and appetite problems.  I’ve long believed that some people are born into this world too sensitive to thrive in our harsh, modern environment. 

I believe Owen was one such individual, too sensitive for this world.  While I don’t believe he was looking for a way out, I do believe he left himself open to risks that could (and most likely did) put him in the way of unpredictable people, with little thought to outcomes.  Owen thought everyone had something to contribute, and invited people into our home because he thought they were “just like me, Mom, searching”.  

Dave and I shared our more experienced discretion with him, and asked pointed questions about these people who spent time with us.  Most prominently, we asked the questions, when we spent time in conversations with Owen’s visitors.  Those same visitors have told us things about Owen’s death, that are alarming, and which they insist they will never tell the authorities.  When we ask them why, they tell us they are not considered credible witnesses - even though some of them have told us they were with Owen on his last night. 

So many questions, so many sleepless nights, so many desperate frustrations, and so little credible information.  It sometimes feels like the sky is falling.  I can assure you, the sky fell, and the River released Owen’s body to the surface.  We are among the lucky families of these young men.  Many families never find their loved ones’ bodies, and so are left with even less answers than we’ve been given.  As odd and awful as it is to say,  I am thankful the River delivered us Owen’s body, after he was missing for four days.  We don’t have to wonder if he’s dead or alive.  We know.

Song for the night:  River Man, Nick Drake (when I watch this video, and hear Drake’s voice, I experience the beauty of sensitivity and thoughtfulness, and I’m reminded of our conversations with Owen in our home)

http://youtube.com/watch?v=eEAsZa4Qz2Y&feature=related

~ by Linda on March 7, 2008.