It has been quite a while since I logged into my account on the NING, and like in most people's lives, a lot has changed. But as I look through my old blog posts, I have noticed that not much has changed at all. In my first blog post, I struggled with the death of my cousin and the death of my aunt. I shared with the HPAlliance my depression, the dementors inside of my head that thrived on my misery. I told you all that my mental health is a constant battle going on inside of me. And I told you of how, much like Harry in his fifth year at Hogwarts, I thrashed out at those that were nearest to me, isolating myself (even if I was never truly alone).
About a month ago, my friend Marley was shot. He had been drinking and pulled over into a parking lot to sleep for the night in his car. An unknown person shot him six times and killed Marley. The past month (the majority of my summer) has been hard for me. I could not and still cannot understand how anyone could take the life of my friend away. Marley was eighteen - he just graduated high school, had a full ride to a college of his dreams, and had his entire life planned out (even if he admitted that he was willing to change it all). How could any person kill my friend? My friend who played such beautiful music - my friend who was so smart and so open - my friend who had just graduated high school - how could any person take him away?
Even more so, I struggled with my Jewish identity. As a leader in my Jewish community, I had the pleasure of attending the Union for Reform Judaism's Teenage Leadership Camp. Every day we prayed in front of a majestic lake, singing our praises to a higher power and sharing our hopes and dreams and sorrows as a community. These services moved me. They made me feel complete. But at the same time, they emptied me of all the assurance I had in my faith. I could understand that people do irrational things. But G-d? How could the maker of the universe, lover of truth and justice, take my friend away in such a violent way? It made no sense at all.
However, this summer, instead of letting the dementors take over my life and succumbing to my depression, I cast my patronus into the sky, pushing them back. I prayed louder and stronger than I had ever done before. I put all the effort I had originally put towards hating the world and my religion into loving my friends and fostering new, healthy relationships. My patronus, if you are wondering, was not the shape of a penguin, a snake, or any other animal. It was the shape of myself.
Yes, I have become my own patronus. I know it sounds like a bunch of bologna, but honestly, it's the truth. Who else is going to save me from the darkness but myself? Who else is going to reach in and pluck me from the pits of dispair? In the words of Rabbi Hillel: "If I am not for myself, who will be for me?"
By learning to trust in myself, I have learned that I also must stand for others. Injustice will not stop any time soon, but we do not have permission to stop if our efforts do not seem to make a difference. We must not only try harder - we must do harder. To continue Hillel's quote: "If I am only for myself, what am I? And if not now, when?"
Oh, I almost forgot - I've also learned that sometimes the only logic that we can have is illogical. I cannot blame the universe or a higher power for what a selfish person did to take Marley away. I cannot shun my religion because of the death of one friend. Love and hope and faith do not die; people do.
