Dear Internet,

Today would have been Brendan’s 46th birthday.

Yesterday (Saturday), close colleagues of Brendan, as well as myself, were set to gather to have a memorial to celebrate Brendan’s life, and frankly, I did not want to go, so I didn’t. I had the American Foundation of Suicide Prevention fundraising walk last week (where I cried), and that, frankly, was enough. The idea of hanging out with people to talk about him filled me with dread. I texted a mutual of Brendan’s and mine and told the mutual I wasn’t coming. I don’t regret it.

(I’m also in a bit of a snit that I emailed this group as well as Brendan’s family back in July about the walk and fundraising goal, and not one of them donated a penny, whereas I have had strangers donate in his name. Fuck those assholes.)

The walk was last Sunday downstate. I was joined by Steph and Sara, who also helped raise money. Team Otter Lee Ridiculous raised $1216/$1000 with two large donations coming in on the day of. I was blown away by the financial support of friends of Brendan’s and strangers to him who donated.

Team Otter Lee Ridiculous came in 6th out of 100 teams, and I went in the top 10 for fundraising. I got a t-shirt since I raised more than $150, and I get another gift for raising over $1000. I think jogger pants or something. Whoopie.

The event started at 1 p.m., but we got there around 11:30 a.m. The three of us had breakfast that morning at Wolfie’s before heading to the park. There were over 1000 people who attended, and the place was packed. All sorts of vendors were there, from therapists to treatment centers. We picked up stickers, I bought a t-shirt, and Steph and I wore bibs on our backs where we wrote down the people who we were walking for.

We got a lot of comments on our team shirts, which surprised me? We were hanging out with the therapy dogs, and while I cannot resist petting a pupper, one of the dog owners asked us about the team name, and I started crying.

All three of us also wore honor beads and I had a large pin that designated me as an alumnus of the walk. I wore five strands of the beads. There were a lot of people who had more so that was depressing.

Even though the three of us are smiles and playful, I cried a lot that day and also found myself in a lot of introspection. I knew Brendan would chide me for what I was doing, but fuck him. I wouldn’t be fundraising if it weren’t for his ass killing himself.

I also got irrationally angry at people who were wearing things that had “love wins” or some shit, and I’m like, look, if love won, he would be fucking here right now, and we’d be planning our next great adventure. Instead, I’m in near 90°F heat, sweating my tits off, raising funds so someone else doesn’t go through this.

I’ve had two people super close to me tell me they have had suicidal ideation this year, but they didn’t want me to have more people kill themselves in my life, so they haven’t. I think one was semi-joking. I know for a fact the other one was not.

And the picture of the sloth paraphernalia? Steph’s husband is named Sloth and he said he wouldn’t be on brand when making up my air mattress if he didn’t include Sloths. At least there is some joy in the world.

This is about all the energy I have to write today, even though I have more bang on about. I’ll be doing the AFSP walk every year, and I was thinking next year I might volunteer. The organizers did a great job (I need to email them and tell them that), and I’d like to be more helpful.

You can still donate to this year’s campaign by going here.

lisa x