Hey this has been sitting hard on me since I have been in a dark place lately.

"It's been nearly a year since my patient killed herself.

My patient is etched in the record of my heart. I wish I had thought to tell her this when she was alive. In her death, she taught me never to make that mistake again. This past year I've seen my own work transform. I find ways to invite my patients into this private space so we both can discover the ways in which we have impact on each other and etch our experience of each other upon the surface of our hearts and souls.

Maybe that's enough to save a life. Maybe it's not. It's the best I have. As I sit in my office chair and feel the pull of depression on all life and light around me I become increasingly aware this that is all I have. It's all any of us have.

My patient carefully selected the method of her death. After years of talking about suicide, and having therapists talk with her about the trauma she would cause others who found her, she selected a method that had the least impact. I'm sure she did this in an effort to begin the erasure of herself from the record of the world. She didn't want to hurt anyone--and she didn't want to be remembered.

The tragedy of this suicide--and any suicide really--is starting to surface for me in this space between light and dark. As this past year has elapsed I find myself overwhelmed by an understanding that the only tool left my patient had to make an impact--to show others how she felt and what she was experiencing--was to kill herself.

In her attempt to erase herself through suicide, my patient ended up doing something else. She seared a memory of her experience in those of us who knew her. She made an impact on us. The tragedy was that she never experienced that impact--and that connection--in her life.

Treat people like they matter. It's the most important thing you will ever do.