Cory died doing a normal thing. People cross the street on their way to the grocery store to buy chili powder all the time. I see them when I'm driving on West Michigan Avenue-in sleet, in snow, in rain, and shine-walking in droves toward Urbandale Plaza.
The cars coming toward these walkers stop politely, and wait, their eyes peeled efficiently to watch for pedestrians at this busy hub of the neighborhood. When I see the cars stopping, braking, or even just slowing down, I want to fall to the ground writhing and screaming.
I think a couple of camps formed after the accident. There were those who knew and loved Cory who believed the accident was just that...an unforeseen and horrific event.
Others, who didn't know Cory, or didn't know her well, put "mentally ill" together with "pedestrian fatality" and assumed that she committed suicide, or "walked into traffic" as I've heard it said. Are you freaking kidding me?
This pisses me off beyond measure. Had any of these small-minded people actually known Cory, they'd know just how ludicrous that notion really is. Like ok...she fought everyday for 3 years, and made significant progress towards "normalized activity" just to laugh about Matthew McConaughey's butt, kiss her Momma good-bye, and go get her head caved in- on purpose? Yeah, that makes sense.
At the visitations, we had a montage of stills and candids that played to some of her favorite songs. One of them was "Move Along" by All American Rejects. It could very well be the anti-suicide anthem for her generation. She was many times suicidal-that I won't deny-but she wasn't suicidal that day. How can I be so sure? Her eyes. Her face. Her smile. Her posture. The fact that she didn't bow her head with her hair covering all of one eye and most of the other as she muttered down into her chest that she'd been having "bad thoughts" again. My girl always talked to me. We had it like that. I know she was ok that day.
Therefore, it seems like complete sacrilege that anyone out there thinks she wasn't, and that she took her own life. It completely negates her strength and fortitude. It demeans her. It makes her smaller than her pain, and she was bigger than life to me. Look at the run she gave Schizoaffective Disorder for its money. BAM!! I'm out, losers.
Why do you think I'm still here? If Cory did it; I can do it, too.
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