Sometimes I just can’t believe I’m the one that lost a child. That was something that happened to other people. Not me. And not only did my child die, he died by suicide.
I could argue that I know my purpose now
But this “purpose” has such a high price tag.
Some days I feel like I am barely able to scrape myself together. I wake up and just can’t believe I am in this place. I have to endure it, shape it, live it. It’s so much work. There’s no magic pill, no “fixing” it. It just is.
This part didn’t come in the handbook of motherhood. There are no instructions about losing a child by suicide. What’s worse, no one talks about it.
That moment I realized my child was at risk for not making it to adulthood was a terrifying realization. Finding hope then became my full time job. I jumped out of my skin every time the phone rang because I was holding my breath, poised for bad news.
I’ve broken my neck, had lightning strike at my feet, had two brain surgeries to remove a tumor, died on the table during a diagnostic procedure, been attacked at knifepoint and barely escaped rape and murder –all a piece of cake compared to my child dying by suicide.
I am a different person than I was before
I had a life before he died and now I have a completely different one after he died. I literally changed overnight. With that new life, I have the privelege of a new perspective. How come it’s so clear now?
The benefit of being in this ‘club’?
I can say whatever I want. So here it is.
Don’t ignore people hurting because you “can’t be bothered” or it’s uncomfortable for you. You are missing an opportunity to be a good human being, to have a real relationship with a real person.
And what if someone snaps at you for asking? So what? Like your grandmother said, it’s not like the sky will fall. Just move on. Ninety nine percent will appreciate it. Fear of asking is paralyzing us.
Quit f—-ing tiptoeing around every taboo subject like they are live mines. Educate yourself. Stop judging people. Look at them from another point of view and above all, reach out.
Because here’s the thing. You are not going to grow by locking yourself in a bubble of safety skimming the surface of life.
2 thoughts on “How did I end up in this f—ing club?”
The problem is you can’t “unjoin”. I hear you, Anne. Nothing trumps losing a child. Take care of yourself.
My heart is heavy for you today, Anne Moss. LA is a long way off, but you are right is saying that he must pursue his dreams. Richard Lewis was a film writer for a period. Several of his pieces aired on National Geographic programs. I think that is what he teaches now at the university where he is a professor.
When I had cancer in 2015, I adopted a new normal. I am glad to be back in the old normal, but I do understand when people refer to new normal. Please call the next time you are home. Carol