It is emotionally draining to write some of these posts. I do revisit the emotions of losing my son to suicide all over again which hurts like the devil.

The truth is the stories run round and round in my head like a hamster wheel. When I am stubborn and refuse to write about it, my thoughts stalk me until I let it out.

Stuffing the grief makes it worse–makes me feel like I’m stuck in quicksand.

I have from 10-20 unfinished entries in the back end of this website at any given time. Brain dumps some of them. Many of them hardly worthy of publishing because how many ways can you say, “My heart aches and I miss my child so so much?”

The articles that make me sweat the most, the ones I hesitate to publish, are usually the best. I had to learn that. For me, relief comes when I publish. That swirling in my head stops. It drags a dark subject into the spotlight, makes it more lined up and logical instead of my thoughts going on a tangent and burying me in that deep black rabbit hole.

At first writing was all about relieving my pain

I had no idea when I started this where it would lead or what it would mean. I just had to do it. Words literally bleed from my heart. Heaviness often lifts when I let it go.

I was driven by the mission that I will no longer cater to the tradition of silence.

I felt guilty that I was burdening you all. As if you might feel obligated to read when you didn’t really want to. I worried that I was bringing you down.

But a funny thing happened. We found each other

Do you know how often I come back and read your comments? How many times others read them?

The village we have created here is reaching hundreds of thousands. Just this little blog tucked away in he corner of the Internet with its boring design is saving lives. I would never have imagined that would be possible.

It’s far less sexy than video. A lot less dynamic than a TedTalk. Yet it works.

It’s the band of wonderful gypsies that travel this path with me and have the guts to put themselves out there by posting them on personal Facebook and twitter pages that help me fulfill a purpose. Your sharing shocks me. Your passion is contagious. It inspires me get out of bed every day. To live and move forward. The support I have gotten and you have given to others is what human compassion is all about.

I would never have expected such boldness. Would never have expected people to share posts about suicide, addiction, grief, mental illness. But I think, like me, you were equally as tired of the stigma. And the shame.

You have become role models for change and acceptance and because of your boldness people are asking for help. We are reaching college kids, moms, dads, aunts, uncles and friends. We are reaching people who are hurting and want to hurt themselves.

That hole in my heart feels fuller because of it. Thank you for being part of this village.

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Would I do it all over again?