Name: Peter R. Vermaat
State of Issue: New York
Date of Birth: Wednesday April 02, 1986
Date of Death: Sunday December 06, 2009
Est. Age at Death: 23 years, 8 months, 4 days
Confirmation: Verified
Last known residence:
City: Port Crane; Fenton; Sanitaria Springs
County: Broome
State: New York
ZIP Code: 13833
Latitude: 42.2035
Longitude: -75.7599
Oorzaak: Bipolaire stoornis (zelfdoding?)
Biography:
So many ways and words to describe Pete's life. Artistic, musical, funny, caring, passionate, sensitive. But also tortured, tormented, anxious and depressed. Such a roller-coaster of emotions for him each and every day. So too hard to find direction and purpose. His smile would light up a room in an instant, but depression and despair would sap his energy and hope just as quickly.
Peter suffered horribly from Bipolar 1 Disorder. He fought long and hard, but eventually this insidious disease took his life and stole him from us. There was nothing more important to Peter than his friends and family. He loved us and we love him and miss him so much.
His Grandpa said it best at Pete's funeral service:
As we drove home from Joel’s house on the night of Peter’s passing, I happened to notice, out of the corner of my eye, a small tree, standing alone in the darkness, a tree with little white lights shining in the darkness, the kind of scene that when you see it, sort of brings a smile to your face. And for some reason ( I did not fully understand it at the time) it seemed instantly to speak of Peter, and I could not get that image out of my mind. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was so symbolic of Peter’s life, where there were lights, lights that told us something about him, lights in his life that shone against backdrop of darkness And they were many.
One of the lights was that wonderful, subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) sense of humor, which always seemed to pop up when you were least prepared for it. Humorous little comments and retorts. As my wife often observed, he had a smile that couldlight up a room. There was a light that revealed his gift for music, an ear for music. One of my favorite memories is Peter seated at the piano, with little melodies making their way from his mind and imagination through his fingers to the keyboard, lilting little songs, simple, melodies. He enjoyed exploring different instruments, loved creating sounds and harmony and rhythm,- more lights. The same imagination took form in his artistic creations, intricate designs and unique combinations of shapes and colors, the images in his mind finding their way to the canvas in front of him. Another light revealed the fact that there was a depth to his thinking; he frequently engaged in animated conversation about some of life’s deeper mysteries, and he could express strong opinions about current affairs that had attracted his attention. Perhaps best of all shown the light of his sensitivity for others, his caring and warmth and compassion, there were so many tender moments in his life -another light burning brightly so much of the time.
Perhaps now these lights seem so bright because they shone against a darkness that could be so black. We saw first signs of that darkness as a child. It became evident early in his life that there were some concerns that would require special attention. It was not long before it became a matter of the involvement of many Drs., and diagnoses, and the prescription of medications far stronger than we would ever want to give any child. And there would be so many times when it appeared that something was working, the future seemed hopeful. He graduated from high school, and began college, and his first semester was nothing less than outstanding. And then, in the second semester, his world seemed to fall apart; there was the diagnosis of a sinister and debilitating illness, and a deepening darkness became a familiar part of his life. There began that seemingly endless cycle of lofty ambitions, and crushing disappointments, of promises sincerely made, and promises broken, of goals set, but seldom attained, of desires for success and meaning in his life, but for the most part ending up with only emptiness and disappointment to show for it.
There would be signs of progress, good intentions, followed by bad decisions, paid for sometimes by disastrous results. It was the picture of a young man struggling to find normalcy in his life, finally struggling to even understand what “normal” meant, while his life was being ravaged by the demons of the darkness of mental illness, demons that tortured his mind and in the end broke his spirit.
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