What do we have when all is lost? When we hit rock bottom and feel the only other place to go is six feet under? These questions have haunted my mind for the last few months, as it turns out life doesn’t wait for you to be comfortable when life happens to you. So, I live with the scars of the past inside and out, living days of impending doom or feelings of worthlessness that cloud my mind from any objective I may be trying to accomplish.
There are days where I feel the only way out is through my own devices. But then I’m reminded of something that was said to me not too long ago that continuously runs through my mind, and it reminds me of Bobby.
While this post does speak on Bobby’s own depression after his brother’s assassination, it is more focused about the horrible truth that is slowly permeating throughout our society: suicides are up, roughly 30% since 1999. The growth of this disease known as mental illness, in my opinion, stems from a few issues that must be spoken of, put out in the open without fear, and dealt with in a manner that neither negates or punishes those who have feelings of worthlessness, depression, mania, self-harm, or suicide.
As we say goodbye to Bobby 50 years after he was taken from us, I want to reflect on the consistent message he spoke of time and time again while traveling throughout the world and the US as Attorney General, a Senator from New York, and finally as a presidential candidate in 1968. His message never wavered in any position he held. His message was stern yet docile at the same time because Bobby was more than simply Bobby. He was an ideal, and that ideal will never die, so long as we continue to heed his words.
Be warned, that this post will contain a large number of photos taken on the train ride from New York City to Washington D.C. where he was laid to rest. The pictures themselves bring me to tears, but at times when I feel hopeless, I remember the words Bobby spoke and remember that the only way forward is to do just that: move forward.
We’ve crossed the threshold, as Robert Kennedy succumbed to his wounds on June 5th, 1968. Now, 50 years later, we come to a turning point, as we do every year where we reflect on the “what if’s” and “what could have been’s”: Where do we go from here? The answer, just as Bobby did just after the death of his brother, is: onwards. We continue his legacy, we fight for what’s right, and we continue to spread his message of empathy and compassion.
Now, on this blog, I might be beating a dead horse by continuously driving this idea, but I cannot stress how essential showing empathy and compassion are in light of today’s world. Read on to see why.
I’ve been on a short hiatus because of some medical issues I’ve been having, but I’m back and it’s time to continue onwards. Because that’s all we can do, right?
Here we are. 49 years and a few hours from the moment Robert Kennedy was mortally wounded at the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles, with the 50th anniversary of it just a few hours away. With it came the loss of a great man, a message of tolerance and compassion, and a willingness to live a life of good during times of turmoil and distress. What we haven’t lost, though, are the ideals that make this man worth remembering.
Back in 1968, after Lyndon Johnson dropped out of the race on the Democratic ticket and his Vice President, Hubert Humphrey, took his place we began to hear something strange. There was this talk about the “politics of joy.” It almost felt like we were living in some sort of tone-deaf country. Hadn’t we just lost Martin Luther King, Jr. just a few weeks earlier? Weren’t there riots in the streets and cities literally on fire? Weren’t thousands of young soldiers dying halfway across the world? We weren’t living in a world – let alone politics – of joy. We were living in a world of impending doom.
I wake up every day and see news outlet after news outlet polluting our minds with jealousy, vanity, and cynicism. How many homicides were there today? Did they catch the guy who kidnapped that kid? Will they ever be found? And if they’re found will they be the same? The stock market’s up, though, so don’t you worry, my friend, everything’s gonna be all right.
Is this really how we judge whether we’re succeeding as a country – as a species? Is it more important to have more money in your pocket than it is to have an open mind? When did inflexibility become the new normal? You can’t have a conversation with anyone regarding any type of political theory lest you risk the conversation becoming an attack on you personally.
I’ve been trying to bring myself to write this post all week, but have found myself, time and time again, struck down by the bogs of depression and anxiety. But, I’ve forced myself, after days of thinking of this post and what I wanted it to be about, to finally put it out into the universe.
Our lives are filled with the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. We’re elated one moment and utterly defeated the next. Suffering is inevitable for all of us. The question is, how do we deal with the suffering that life causes and how do we get out of what can only be described as a labyrinth of suffering? It sometimes feels like we’ve lost our way and cannot see even six inches ahead of us. We stumble in the dark for what we hope will be the next right step. Sometimes we even have to pull ourselves along the way because our bodies and minds are so broken and twisted from the pain we’re going through.
It’s what I imagine Bobby felt on November 22, 1963, when he was swimming in his pool and received that phone call from J. Edgar Hoover that his brother, President John F. Kennedy, had just been shot and then another one not too soon after stating he was dead. I could never imagine the utter defeat his entire essence must have gone through at that moment. When you dedicate your life to someone like Bobby did for Jack and then have them ripped away from you without a moment’s notice you are left bare and alone in the dark. You can’t even say whether or not you’re still part of this world because your world has just been obliterated. And just like that, with the snap of a finger, Bobby’s life was forever changed. Continue reading →
When I wake up in the morning I feel disheartened, because I feel the insignificance that is me. I think of how the world gets on just fine without anyone knowing who I am, and I wonder whether I was cut out for this world. I worry that the incredibly small amount of time I have on this planet will be wasted and I will have accomplished nothing. I will leave no dent in the universe, and instead, be left on the list of billions of unknown people who have passed on and since then been forgotten.
Then I think of what Bobby said all those years ago and I’m reminded that even the smallest person can make a difference. Just look at what’s happened in our country since the Presidential Election of 2016, since the shooting in Parkland, since the moment you woke up this morning. All of these little, unknown people made from the stuff of stars in the universe somehow made their voices of sanity rise above the fray of incredible and incoherent yelling we’re hearing every day.
I’ll be perfectly honest. I haven’t been posting because my life has been flipped on its head. Whether it be the loss of family members, loved ones, or suicide attempts, I have wafted away from this website with the inevitable cry of “I’ll get back to it, I swear.” The truth is, that I lied to myself and I lied to my readers.
I created this website to try and bring more compassion into a world that has continuously grown more hostile and cynical by the minute. I owe it to myself and all those who read this to find a safe haven from the hailstorm of hate.