As our lives got busier and – honestly – harder in a lot of regards, I began to feel some distance between us. I mostly chalked this up to your hardworking and hobbyist nature, as you were being relied upon heavily at work and enjoyed taking on new experiences (musical and otherwise). During this time, I had the chance to meet lots of your other friends from many corners of your life – from pickleball to yoga to Halifax’s scooter scene. I quickly learned how important you were to so many. You had this effortless way of endearing yourself to everyone you met, touching deep parts of so many people’s hearts. Still, as life’s curveballs and work piled on, I felt your deep exhaustion. I had no idea how tired you really were, and I’m so sorry for not picking up on signals that you were struggling so much.

When I found out that you had passed away, and how, I thought I understood how many worlds were shattering along with mine. I’ve since discovered just how deep and far-reaching your impact truly has been. Beach days, jam sessions, friendly competition on the pickleball court, yoga sessions, laughs over patio beers, bike repairs, and even a simple run-in on the street that turned into a deeper conversation – all of those little moments that made up your day-to-day added up to a person who is deeply loved, unique, precious, and needed here on Earth. They added up to a person who deserved help. I really hope that you can somehow know that now, and I hope that anyone reading this knows that this is true about them too.

When things build up over a lifetime – beliefs about ourselves and our worthiness, the weight of the world (which is heavy if you have the awareness that creative people so often do); if you’re working in an industry or a job that is underpaid (and let’s face it, you’re probably not getting the healthcare you need in Nova Scotia…) it might really seem like there isn’t a way out.

A Revelios report on mental health across the Canadian music ecosystem found that 94% of participants agreed that mental health issues are prevalent in the Canadian music industry. 86% personally experienced challenges, and 95% said they’d seen others struggle. A whopping 53% said they’d felt life wasn’t worth living, and 43% have thought about taking their own life. These numbers are staggering.

Henri, since your passing I’ve learned so much. If I had a do-over, I would ask you more directly and insistently about your mental health upon noticing signs of withdrawal. I understand now how serious those signs are. I hope that anyone reading this will remember how important it is to deal with mental illness head-on and not tiptoe around it.

“This is a really hard question to ask, but are you considering suicide?”

I’ve learned that just these few words can help a loved one get out of their head, and begin to show how cared for they are.

We all deserve adequate mental health support. Ideally coming from a combination of community, mental health professionals, and infrastructure put in place to prioritize this health care. No one singular person is responsible for another’s mental health, but I see now clear as day that we do have a duty of care to one another. One that involves tackling societal problems that exacerbate pre-existing mental illness such as the lack of affordable housing, an overall affordability crisis, a healthcare crisis, a non-livable minimum wage, a provincial government hell-bent on destroying jobs and slashing funding to the humanities. The list goes on. Right now, we really are all we have.