by Kendall Baker
Trigger warning: Strong Emotional Content.
I kissed the top of her head and walked toward the door. I paused. I knew this was it. I turned around to look at her and try to memorize her image, an image I barely recognized due to her physical state.
“I’ll see you later,” I said. “I will.”
Katie smiled a forced smile and nodded. She knew what I meant.
I let the door close behind me. I was twenty nine and she thirty, but I knew that was the last time I’d see my sweet friend on this side of Heaven. Twenty nine and thirty. We should’ve been out sharing cocktails or having a girls night in, bitching about men and jobs. We shouldn’t be here. Anywhere but here.
The present “here” was the fourth floor of a large hospital in Greenville, South Carolina. I stood outside her hospital room for a few moments, trying to decide whether to go back in. She was alone in there, it was nearly midnight and although she’d had plenty of visitors earlier in the day, I was the last to leave that night. I’d driven down from Richmond, VA to see her when I got the call from her sister telling me things were bad. The “come now if you want to say goodbye” kind of call.
Hours earlier I’d spent time scurrying around her hospital room, trying to clean it for her. I was trying to find some way to feel “useful” or “helpful” in an unimaginable situation. I rubbed lotion on her legs and feet and I changed her socks, tasks she could no longer do herself. I wanted so badly to find some way to at least make her more comfortable, but I felt completely helpless.
Finally I climbed halfway in bed with her and we watched the first half of the first episode of “Schitts Creek,” on her laptop. She’d been trying out many shows during her three week hospital stay. I couldn’t focus on the show; instead, I watched her watch, as I tried to wrap my mind around the fact that she was dying.
As I left her that night, her laptop was propped up on the hospital bed table and she was finishing that first episode. I didn’t want to leave her, but I knew I never would, and I had to drive back to Virginia in the morning. So, at a few minutes before midnight, I stood outside that heavy hospital room door. So many thoughts went through my mind.
How did we get here? Is it really too late? It is…we need to make her comfortable. How will I go on when she finally stops? How will any of us? Are we even sure the world will keep spinning once she’s gone?
Two days later, she died. One of my closest friends in the world died as a direct result of Anorexia Nervosa. And the world did keep spinning, which made me surprisingly angry.
Her last Facebook posts, weeks before her death, had an angry tone to them. If not angry, maybe desperate. She emphasized how eating disorders are a mental illness and NOT a choice, and should not be treated any differently than any physical illness. Usually her posts were sweet, often expressing gratitude. I think as she felt her time running out, though, there was more she needed the world to know.
She fought. We fought for her. Her dad fought for her, her sisters fought for her, I fought for her, other friends fought for her, my family fought for her. And we still lost her.
I love my friend with all my heart, but I hate her eating disorder with every fiber of my being. I hate what it took from her, and that it ultimately took her from us. In my personal grief, I’ve found it important to separate the two.
There is Katie, and then there is Katie’s eating disorder. It’s easily confusing, as one lives inside the other, so they might at times appear as one. But they are not. Not at all.
Katie was kind. So kind. She was breathtakingly beautiful, both inside and out. She was caring, loving, and the kind of friend most people only ever long for. She was loyal. She loved with her whole heart, and insisted that was the only way to love.
Katie’s illness, her eating disorder, was cunning. Manipulative. Greedy. Her exact opposite. And it wanted her all to itself.
This is the first time (and God help me, hopefully the last) I’ve lost someone close to me to a mental illness, and the predominant feeling, other than grief of course, surprised me. Loneliness. It feels lonely. I am lonely without her, her calls and texts and our visits. But the grief itself also feels especially lonely.
If your best friend dies of cancer, that’s horrible, but everyone understands cancer (to a degree, at least). If your best friend dies of Anorexia, people are…confused. I had one well-meaning family member tell me, “Well, she killed herself.” Well…yes, but also definitely no. Katie did not want to die. She wanted to live, desperately. She verbalized this again and again. She couldn’t get access to the proper level of care she needed at the very end, and after a long, 15 year battle with her eating disorder, her body finally succumbed. She fought. I won’t have anyone thinking she starved herself to death purposely just because that’s what she wanted to do. It might sound simple, but it is so, so complex.
Yes, she did essentially starve herself to death. That is one way of looking at it that is not completely inaccurate. But she hated it. It tortured her, and she fought back as hard as she could. She did not choose this. She did not want to be gone.
She wanted to be here—with her sisters and neice and nephews, with her dad whom she called “Pops,” and with her friends—and she tried. She tried as hard as she could for as long as she could.
It’s only been a month, so the fog has not yet cleared enough for me to decide how to best proceed in her honor. I know we will fight to raise awareness and reduce stigma. I know I will be at lobby day in the Spring to speak to legislators about the importance of comprehensive mental health coverage. But that doesn’t feel like enough. I suppose nothing will ever feel like enough.
But we keep trying, and we carry on, for Katie and for ourselves. I will miss her every day for the rest of my life, and I have to make some kind of positive change in her honor. For me, it is part of the healing.
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Hello,
I came to this site after googling something graphic about suicide.
A comment on Charles’ story lead me to the posts about eating disorders. When I saw Katie and Kendall’s story here, I gasped.
Before I move to my comment, I extend empathy to everyone who has been touched by suicide, whether directly by loss or by the pain of wanting to escape life so badly.
Neither case is desirable.
I’m 40 and exhausted. My ED started with VERY EARLY childhood anxiety. Anxiety depletes me into a depressed state. The eating disorder gets me through the day, one after another, somehow. And I hate it. I hate the disease. I hate the pain of existing. And, I hate the pain of feeling trapped, —compelled to keep going to prevent the trauma that leaving others behind creates.
I feel I was drafted into this life against my will. I’ve been through every type of treatment, conventional and holistic, that I’m aware exists. All levels of care. Therapies. Medications. ECT. TMS. Meditation. Yoga. 12 Steps. And so on…
Just this past fall, I learned of a friend in Canada who chose Medical Assistance In Dying. I cannot shake my feelings of jealously. She made it through the world to the other side. She didn’t have to choose something blatantly violent to find her relief. I assume she didn’t have to make this choice alone, either.
If harm reduction existed as a treatment for those with a primary diagnosis of eating disorders, I wonder how many of my peers would be alive, —and with a semblance of some sort of quality of life. It’s long overdue in my not so humble opinion.
I actually entered hospice care for severe and enduring anorexia a few years ago. I survived. I graduated of hospice care, begrudgingly. I often silently cry, “How foolish of me!”
I realize my lack of exuberance for my life contradicts the expectation that I would “naturally” embrace another chance.
Instead, I feel resentful and tortured.
For the small percentage of people who do not respond to treatment, we have been offered very little in terms of alternatives and a great amass of shaming, judgment, and rejection instead.
While I’d like to honor those few providers who are exceptions, they have very little power within the system at large.
I’m disgusted by the industry for looking the other way when faced by the lost generation of sufferers with “Severe and Enduring Eating Disorders” who still live. Quite often traumatized by the care we received, both voluntarily and against our will, many of us would argue we merely exist.
I obviously lack answers. My only suggestion rounds back to the development of harm reduction protocols.
Anne, I’m not sure if you know, but Kendall Baker, too, has passed away.
She crossed over in February 2022.
I applaud you for your courage to put your heart and soul into the work you are doing here.
First I did hear about Kendall. I used to live in the same neighborhood and I know her mom. It broke my heart.
And ED is so difficult to treat and so deadly in more ways than one. I think what makes it so hard as an addiction and mental illness is that one has to eat. So there is no going cold turkey to give up a substance. I am sorry no treatments have worked. And I do understand your feelings you’ve written. After charles’s death by suicide I guess I realized life is being grateful for all the little things put together. Please don’t assume I am directing that at you. It was the only way I could move forward. ED is so evil. And I am sorry it has robbed you of so much of your life.
So I gotta ask, Have you ever had periods of your life when you felt joy?
Hello, thank you for your response.
Yes, I remember knowing joy. I never had mania, but I definitely had ups with my downs.
I don’t think I really enjoy things anymore. Humor has always been a lifeline for me. Sometimes I laugh, and it almost surprises me.
I can acknowledge the blessings I have, and yet I feel very disconnected from that feeling tone.
I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s like my feelings do not match what I “know” to be true.
I don’t need to be in survival mode anymore, but my body is ready to respond to panic anyway.
Externally, my life is as calm as it’s ever been. I have my basic needs met. I have good friends. I live a creative lifestyle, and I consider it a blessing.
This consistent dread started after I took myself off the opiates and benzos I was put on by the hospice team.
It’s been two years though. My personality seems dulled. At first, my doctor suggested it was anhedonia related to post acute withdrawal syndrome. I know that’s a symptom of depression, too.
I don’t understand why it persists, though. That seems to create an anxiety loop of its own.
So far, I haven’t found a way to manage it effectively.
This is beautifully written but l am so terribly sorry it had to be due to the loss of your dear friend. I am glad you did however and thank you for doing so. As a sufferer it is hard to explain this illness is not a choice and your eloquent words support that from an outside view. Heartfelt gratitude and sincere condolences. I’m sure Katie knew how lucky she was to have such a kind friend and is eternally grateful to you 🖤
Thank you for commenting Chantale
Thank you so much, Chantale <3
It’s been a year. It’s hard to believe. This time of year is difficult for me, as last year this time I was just tying to hold on, trying to breathe, trying to make some sense out of something I couldn’t make sense out of.
I know Katie is with God. As Donna Taggart sings though,
“I’m so numb I can’t feel anymore
Praying you’d just walk through that door
And tell me that I was only dreaming
You’re not really gone as long as I believe…
So I’ll hold you as close as I can,
longing for the day when I see your face again.
But until then…
God must need another angel around the throne tonight; your love lives on inside of me, and I will hold on tight
It’s not my place to question, only God knows why
I’m just jealous of the angels around the throne tonight.” … 💜💜💜
Thank you for sharing your story about Katie, I can’t imagine how hard that must have been. I have been recovering from an eating disorder for five years now, and it feels like a lifetime. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve felt so alone in my disorder. I’ve had periods of time where I “hibernated” for days on end because I didn’t want anybody to see me as sick, I wanted everyone to see me as they’ve always seen me; positive, fun, and carefree. Eating disorders are shitty! They suck all the joy and light out of you and leave you a shell of a person; I hardly recognized myself when I was deep in my disorder. It’s been one hell of a journey, but I’ve been really blessed to have some really amazing people come into my life, people who have inspired me to push forward. Katie is one of those people. I was having a bit of a rough night when I came across this blog on NEDA’s website. After reading her story I felt inspired for me and all the fellow warriors out there who are battling this terrible illness. Eating disorders among other mental illnesses are continued to be stigmatized. It’s scary the lack of education there seems to be when it comes to eating disorders, especially in the medical field. We need to work on spreading awareness when it comes to mental illnesses. She was so lucky to have you. She seems like a wonderful person.
Thank you again for posting this, I am sending love and prayers.
Gigi. Thank you so much for telling your story. I am so thankful you are a survivor. I know Kendall (the author of this post) will also answer. But your story is inspiring. Using this comment, I think you have a story I would like to publish. Let me know if you are interested. It’s such a message of hope that I think people need.
Thank you so much for sharing, Gigi. Knowing that Katie is still touching peoples hearts over a year after her death is just…it’s so encouraging. Thank you. And congrats on five years in recovery! That’s a huge deal!
-Kendall
Thank you so much for sharing this terrible story. I’ve read while I couldn’t stop screaming. My best has anorexia too. ‘Has’ but almost ‘had’. I’m so afraid of losing her and I thought I was the only one. I love her. And now, I also love Katie. Let’s change these painful world for them
It’s such a helpless feeling to see someone you live self destruct. I do hope she finds a way out of this disease.
Fighter,
I apologize that I’m just now seeing and responding to your comment. You’re definitely not the only one.
I’m sorry that your best friend is struggling with this terrible disease…I know first hand how hard it is to watch someone you love losing their battle with mental illness. The best we can do for them is to be a good friend and an example of recovery, and sometimes just “being there” is the most valuable gift we could give. I know it takes a toll though. It did it’s damage to my heart, and I’ll never be the same…but even if I could go back, I’d still walk beside Katie throughout her struggle. Her friendship was worth all the tears I’ve cried since losing her. It’s a great (and painful) lesson in our powerlessness over others’ recovery process. I would’ve done anything to save her, but we can’t save anyone else, as much as we’d like to. I’m sure you know this all too well.
Hang in there, and take good care of yourself. Thank you for loving your friend so well, and now for loving Katie, too. They’re so worth it, and we WILL do what we can to repair the broken mental health/healthcare system so that hopefully fewer people will know the pain of losing a loved one to a treatable mental illness.
Thank you so much for writing this. I lost my best friend to anorexia at the end of 2017.. I related to walking out of the hospital room knowing it would be the last time I saw her earth side. The watching of tv series and then it is all gone. Thanks for sharing, creating awareness and know over in Australia I feel a deep a loss as you do x
Lexi,
Thank you so much for commenting. While I hate that you’ve experienced this too, your comment makes me feel less alone. Katie used my Hulu account, and the last few months of her life that or Netflix was her entertainment the majority of the time.
I went into Hulu last night and somehow got to movies I’ve watched. There was only one, and I’ve never watched a movie on Hulu, just TV shows, so I know it was Katie who watched it. I fell to pieces. It’s little things like that that keep creeping up and surprising me. I know she’s at peace now and your friend too. I hope you’ve found some peace yourself <3
Im sorry you had to experience that. Life can be tragic, but nobody deserves to have it ripped from them the way mental disorders do.
Hi,
Thank you for sharing your story about your friend Katie. I talked to her via facebook a few months before she died. I am a recovering anorexic of 26 years. I am currently 36. I was trying to help her find help towards the end. I met her when she asked if anyone been to Fargo Sanford. I reassured her and told her I was available day or night for support. This disease is a nightmare while awake. I fear for my children that one day they would suffer. I would not wish this disease on anyone not even my worse enemy. Sadly it is so misunderstood even by medical professionals. The lack of funding and research is sad. It saddens me even though people want help they can’t get it due to financial burden, insurance denial or lack of treatment centers being available for this disease. I have been a regular psychiatric hospital and gotten worse in my disorder because the doctors knew so little about it and they are psychiatrist! Thank you for trying to education and trying make a change in such a messed up system of care. I pray that Katie memory bring change to mental health treatment and makes it more available to people whom need it.
Kari
Thank you Kari for speaking up and saying what needs to be said.
Kari,
Thank you so much for being there for Katie. I hope you are in a good place with your recovery and overall wellness.
You are so right- a traditional psychiatric hospital setting is not appropriate for an individual needing treatment for an eating disorder. It’s shocking how few mental health providers are properly educated on this disease. We are fighting for change in memory of Katie. She fought so hard for so long; now it’s our turn to carry her torch.
Just now seeing this. As a recovering anorexic and bulimic, I STILL fight urges at the age of 48!!! I remember when I was 86lbs in an ED treatment facility and was told I had gained a pound…I totally lost it, cried and was angry and inconsolable. The Director sat me down and asked me how I was feeling…I told her out of control and manipulated…then she asked me…what is out of your control in your life that you feel you need to hang on to this eating disorder…after many sessions, group and one on one…I actually came to meet my abuse at the hands of my father head on!! Today, when I feel like restricting or bingeing and purging or my mind is obsessed with numbers I ask myself, “Okay, what has happened to upset me today?” I confront my feelings today in a HEALTHY way…assertively and focused. I trust my instincts now. I am soooo sorry for the loss of your friend and you were an amazing friend/sister to her and your honoring her memory has served to help ME double down on recovery and never let that sleeping dragon have it’s way. You are affecting people. Your friend sounds like she was always there for others. It is a tragedy that she is gone so young. Someone was right, alcoholics/addicts are told to abstain but with an ED you are faced with your worst fear 3 or 6 times a day. Years ago I confronted my father and had YEARS of therapy and inpatient treatments over what he had done to me. Today, I do NOT let anyone disrespect me or my body…Even MYSELF!! I allow myself the nutrients people on God’s Earth need and DESERVE!! Good luck on your journey!!!
Keep fighting, Dina! You are worthy. ❤️
Thank you so much Dina. Keep fighting!! Everything you said is so beautiful, and I’m so happy and proud of you for those truths you’re hanging on to
Amen, i am also in recover of a long standing ed. One way I am e found helpful was to help other. I am working on starting a treatment center for ed in my area as there is nothing available anywhere close to where I live and I want to make a difference
💜💜💜
I’m so sorry for your loss! I battled bulimia and some bouts of anorexia for 24 years! I’m 35 now and have been in recovery for 342 days! It’s very hard to not listen to the ED voices and lies that are told everyday! I believe most people at least want to mean the best in what they say but they don’t get it! Mental illness is such a hard thing to deal with not only for the one fighting the battle themselves, but for the loved ones who watch them live in self-destruct mode day after day due to their mental illness! However, it is no different than any other illness and should not be treated as such! It angers me so much that there is such a stigma in mental illness and such a lack of understanding where it is needed the most! People who are struggling with eating disorders and have for long periods of time want to stop and are not doing it to intentionally hurt themselves and the people around them as somemmight think! I wish more than anything that people would educate themselves and be more open-minded. We need more love and understanding! Again Kendall, I am so so sorry you lost Katie to such a horrific mental illness! I can tell by your story that she did in fact fight til the very end with all she had in her. Praying for you and all your loved ones.
Samantha,
Congratulations on 342 days in recovery! That’s amazing, and I’m so happy for you. I appreciate your condolences and prayers, and I echo everything you said about this horrific disease 💜
Thank you it hasn’t been easy but so worth it! You are a good friend to Katie and what you are doing in her memory is phenomenal! I know you may not feel as though it is enough or will never be enough but even just sharing her story and conveying her message with such such eloquence and love is is great honor for her ! I cannot wait to see what else you do and so many support you 100% in all you do to honor her, she deserves it not only because she fought til the very end against this mental illness, but because she was a beautiful human being!
Samantha,
Thank you so much for everything you said. She was an incredibly beautiful human being, so deserving of all good things. I miss her every moment.
Almost a year, Samantha! That’s wonderful. Remember that you are worthy. Keep up the fight! ❤️
I am so sad to read this. I had the honor of meeting Katie many years ago. Is admired her fiestiness and determination. Above all I admired her ability to be vulnerable and honest about her ED with others. She tried to encourage others to keep on fighting…all the while fighting her own battle. One of the hardest things about knowing people with ED, is not being able to get them to see the wonderfully amazing people that we see when we look at them. Blessings and Light
Jo,
I’m so glad you had the opportunity to meet Katie as well! Everything you said about her is so on point, especially how she always encouraged others even in the midst of her own battle. I’ll always wish she could see herself as I and the rest of her loved ones saw her…
I’m sorry for your loss. I’ve been battling for 23 years now. Want to live so badly, and yet, I’m so tired of fighting with myself, it’s so loud in my head. I’m at a healthy weight now, and I hate it, I feel so much heaviness in my body that I’m starting to think it’s ny heart break into huge pieces. Just so tired… much love to you, allow yourself to feel anything, all is valid. XO
Jess- This is what I have also heard from researchers, “it’s so loud in my head.” Those voices. I’m so sorry you still struggle so much. From my point of view, I actually see that you have made a lot of success and here’s why. I often hear that when someone arrives at a goal as you have, they feel they are still sick. And honestly, they still are and it takes your brain a lot longer to catch up to the progress your body has made. And for those voices to not be so loud. Your perseverance and strength is nothing short of Herculean. Just my two cents from many emails, phone calls, in person discussions with both those suffering some kind of addiction/eating disorder. Thank you so much for commenting.
I have lost friendships due to eating disorders but never friends, in this way. Many of us (women and men) have experienced our own bouts of body dysmorohia. But I don’t understand the mental illness. I completely believe you and feel so much deep horrible sadness for Katie and everyone who loved her. But can someone please explain the illness in layman’s terms to understand how it can lead to death in the face of someone who wants to live? Thank you so much for sharing and educating.
Michelle. Thank you for asking this question. I am going to ask a sufferer who has turned into an advocate and someone who runs a nonprofit on eating disorders to answer your question. And I think we need a post here that addresses this. It’s a mental illness that is a lot like an addiction.
Hi Michelle!!
My name is Carly and I’ve been in recovery from an eating disorder for almost 6 years now. I struggled with anorexia as well and still have a difficult time explaining it. It’s almost as if there is another person in your head who is fighting to control your life if that makes sense… You want so desperately to be able to eat and not have negative thoughts, but the anxiety around eating is so overwhelming that it’s sometimes easier to just not eat. It’s a battle between wanting recovery but also wanting to soothe the overwhelming anxiety by not eating. You want so desperatly to be able to be “normal” and not have thoughts around food but at the same time fighting those thoughts is exhausting and brings up a lot of anxiety, along with the depression that most people suffering have. I hope that helped a little!! Again, it’s a very complicated mental illness that has a lot of different parts to it.
Hi Michelle,
Your question is very thoughtful, and thank you so much for putting it that way. As someone who struggles with an ED myself, I definitely heard friends and family ask my, their impatience only thinly veiled, “if you want to recover, why don’t you just eat?” And although every case is different, I’d like to mention a couple of points… my explanation is not exhaustive by any stretch, but I want to mention some things that I feel often get left out when this discussion arises…
One of the things that makes EDS unique are that they are both physical and mental illnesses. Anxiety and thought distortions, esp. around food often exist before the disorder gets into high gear, but once a person’s physiology starts to be effected by starvation, malnutrition or other unhealthy eating patterns, certain biological and survival mechanisms come into play.
I’d recommend anyone interested in how starvation can effect even a healthy brain reference the Minnesota Starvation Experiment led by Ancel Keyes; done almost 80 years ago, it shows how disruption ones food and intake can make even healthy men crazy, food-obsessioned, delusional, irrational, and worse. Furthermore, once these subjects were refed, later interviews hinted the profound impact of the experiment on some of them, even decades later.
I bring this up because starvation literally changes the way one thinks, and it isn’t as simple as “oh, I’m eating again” to reverse these changes. In general, the longer one can normalize ones habits, the better the chances are of healing the neurocircuitry, but, as Kendall states in her account, modern day conventions of insurance and healthcare don’t always practically or financially allow for the support needed for long enough to heal some of the neuro/biological changes that can affect a person when an ED is at play.
Two… and this comes from a more personal note… you can want recovery from an ED very badly. However, food is something that permeates almost every aspect of the world we live in. Substance disorders often preach abstinence, but how does one implement that with food? What is too little, too much, too often, not enough? And to deal with that cycle, that dance, three times a day, every day? There is no respite. One literally most have constant vigilance not only against ones own anxious and distorted thoughts, but anxiety caused by biological reasons, not to mention society’s prejudices and assumptions about food and dieting, availability and affordability of food, cultural and religious implications of feast and famine and celebrations…. Those of us who are lucky are able to keep most of these in check and between internal and external resources, can push through.
For myself, I want recovery, but also know that I need support at almost all meals in order to do so, which isn’t feasible. So I do my best, but get exhausted. Give up once or twice. And once or twice is all it takes for the ED to clench on, full force. Should I have been more vigilant? Perhaps. But I am human, and fallible, and I cannot fault myself for that, but it doesn’t answer the question of how to shake myself free of thoughts and behaviors once they start to reappear.
Imagine that internal battle day after day. Year after year. The strongest of us keep fighting. Some of us get weary and ask what the point in fighting is. Katie, to her end, never gave up trying to seek help trying to fight a cruel and dangerous illness, to which is a credit to her courage and her spirit.
Like I said, I don’t have all the answers, but in this wordy response I hope I provided something of use. Thank you again, Michelle, for you kind curiosity in this
💜💜💜
This is an amazing response. Thank you so much for every word 💜
I’m terribly sorry that Anorexia took your best friend Katie. Anorexia is a terrible disease that took everything from me. I was so close to it taking my life that I finally surrendered to the treatment after a lifetime of hospitals and treatment centers. While Neda provides education they do not provide any financial assistance for people to get proper treatment. My wish is that people begin to donate to those organizations a bit more. Education is important for prevention but you can’t prevent a mental illness. Neda walks are great for community to come together and support one another but proper health care for mental illness is most important. My prayers to you and Katie’s loved ones.
CS- I am so sorry to hear that Anorexia took so much from you, too, but so glad to hear that you’ve surrendered to treatment. I do know that about NEDA; we went to them asking to help with financing Katie’s treatment and we were told that they don’t assist with paying for treatment. I wish they did, and maybe one day this will change. On the bright side, NEDA is a powerful tool to educate and raise awareness as you said. My hope is that with that education, awareness will increase and with it bring more and more practical treatment options. I also hope stigma will decrease, as that is so essential—people cannot get better in isolation and when shame is running the show nobody wins. Thank you for reading and commenting, I wish you all the best in your recovery.
Thank you for sharing your story ..and that of your best pal.Heartfelt condolences.It needs more funding.People need to have compassion.
Couldn’t agree with you more!
Love you, Kendall!
💜💜💜
Mental illnesses are so misunderstood and leave so many devastated survivors in their wake. And now you will fight for understanding and research to slow, then stop, them.Peace to you Kendall.
Thank you so much, Gray. You’re right—they’re so misunderstood, even by well-meaning loved ones, and that misunderstanding contributes to stigma which costs lives.
Yet another tragically powerful story! Thanks Kendall for the well written and raw presentation and also thank you Anne amiss for providing the platform. These are stories that need to be heard and topics that we need to be talking about.
Thank you Ryan. And I’d love a story from you, too.
Beautifully written tragically sad story. Thank you for sharing and educating us. We do need changes in our mental health system- desperately! Speaking out and talking to legislators is a wonderful tribute to your friend.
I’m sorry for your loss. Grieve well and take care of yourself.
Thank you so much!