Check on a Friend, Check on Yourself

If you can’t see it, it doesn’t exit. Right?

I learned more than my fair share about the importance of mental health in 2016. I lost my best friend, drummer, and bandmate of over nine years. As a musician, we jam with different people all the time, but we rarely find that one “musical compadre” – that person that knows a level of us no one else understands, sees a side of us no one else ever will, and feels our feelings like no one ever has. That was my drummer, Terrance.

I tried my best to sweep the news of his passing under the rug, just like I had been taught to do, like I had seen people do, as society trains us to do. Push down the feelings, continue to work, serve others, move on. This worked, briefly. With time, I found myself completely giving up music, something I’d never turned my back on. I found feelings of isolation creeping in, crippling anxiety, intrusive thoughts. Everyone around me had moved on and left me behind. The calls to check in stopped. The texts asking if I needed anything were no more. I faked a smile every day at work, but I came home to the same empty feelings.

I secretly became so bitter towards people. How could they move on? How could they not check on me? How can they expect me to make plans? They must not care.

Just like any other summer weekend, my family was on the lake, and I felt obligated to go. I knew I needed to get out of the house. I needed to fake a smile, enjoy the sun, and see family. I threw on my clothes and headed north. The closer I got to the lake the more my chest got tight, I had trouble breathing, the car walls felt like they were closing in on me. What was happening? It was a beautiful sunny day and all I could feel was doom! That’s when I knew, whatever I was doing wasn’t working.

I ate healthier than I ever had, exercised daily, dove into religion head first, but nothing seemed to help. The first time I sat down with a therapist, I explained all that had happened. I’ll never forget the moment she looked at me and told me we would get through this. I would be fine. I felt a huge moment of relief fall over me. Someone else understood and saw me!

After a few sessions of learning what healthy grieving was, arming myself with coping techniques, and realizing that feelings were meant to be felt, I found myself again. A completely new, remolded, more caring and passionate version of myself. I made a pact that day that I never wanted anyone else to feel the way I had.

I started a project called “You’re Not Alone,” which focuses on the importance of mental health and helps spread awareness, education, and hope. The long-term goal is to help people feel less alone. This project grew from simply checking on my friends, to interviewing huge influencers/icons about a vast variety of mental health issues including BiPolar, OCD, Anxiety, LGBTQ+ community, TBI, and many more. These interviews turned into a weekly podcast that is streamed worldwide. I’ve received numerous messages from listeners saying that simply hearing other relatable stories encouraged them to reach out for help.

Are there still hard days? Sure! Am I completely healed? Absolutely not. Grief still has ways of showing up from time to time, but I am better equipped to handle it. I know now that just because no one else can see it, doesn’t mean it’s not valid. September is Suicide Awareness Month, and I encourage YOU to check on a friend. Check on yourself. Make the call to seek help. And always remember, that you are not alone.

Townsend is a singer, songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, and podcaster who was the guest back on Episode 417 of the weekly “Now Hear This Entertainment” podcast, when – among other topics discussed – she told the story above about losing her drummer, Terrance.  Visit her official website, which has links to her original music on Spotify as well as her Facebook, Instagram, and TikTok, plus her YouTube channel, where – in addition to her music videos – you can watch her “You’re Not Alone” podcast.