For as long as I can remember, I've been someone who CALM (Campaign Against Living Miserably) would regard as someone who is "living miserably". To re-phrase: for as long as I can remember, I've suffered from depression. For as long as I can remember, I've experienced suicidal thoughts. For as long as I can remember, I've lived in a world that I've made an attempt to no longer exist in.
Over the years there have been a handful of things that have proved an escape from these moments of living miserably. One of them, unsurprisingly, is running: a chance to escape my own head when I need it most; space to listen to music or a podcast, put one foot in front of the other, work up a sweat, and focus on anything other than how I feel. One of the other things that proved life-saving at points was my best friend:
Today marks five years since the death of my best friend, aged 21.
It's in his memory that I am running the 2023 Brighton Marathon for CALM.
Days had always been tough, but from that November day in 2017, days got a whole lot tougher. For years, through his friendship, he had offered not just laughter but also a sounding board in my countless times of crisis, someone willing to talk me back from the brink. He was there for me at times of extreme darkness and for that, I will never be able to thank him.
At a time before it was commonplace to talk about such things, he offered a platform like no other to discuss how I was really feeling. Free of judgment. Free of the desire to simply provide solutions. Just there. Just listening. It's a powerful thing to do, and only in the absence of such a figure did I really appreciate what he did for me.
In my best friend, I had someone who was always there for me in my darkest hour, but equally, someone to celebrate the good days with. We’d walk aimlessly for hours at night talking about life's biggest mysteries or nothing at all. It didn’t matter, I had a best friend I could spend forever with. We experienced a lot together: first festivals, first loves, and even a broken wrist for good measure. But the most important thing that we had was one another's backs. There were countless times looking back that without my best friend's presence, I know full well that I would not be writing this today.
In the past five years, I have found countless other support networks, and I will never underappreciate one again. It is in honour of all of these support networks, whether they are charities like CALM, or people - alive or dead - that I am running the Brighton Marathon. Please donate.