Was I a failure as a mother?

When my child killed himself, the first thing I thought about– when I could, in fact, think– was that he left because of something I didn’t do right. How crummy a mother was I that my child checked out on me? I saw it as a failure at the one job that meant most to me in the world, ushering my child to successful adulthood.

When I look back and start to beat myself up, something that doesn’t happen as often as it once did, I have to remember I didn’t know then what I know now. And I can’t judge myself through a lens of today’s knowledge. There’s a reason they say, “hindsight is 20/20.”

I still haven’t answered the actual question here.

Am I a failure as a mother?

I’m not in a place where I can say, “I was a damn good mother.” I can say, however,  I did the best I could with the resources available to me. I can’t make someone accept care no matter how much he might have needed it.

That’s not what did it, though.

Do you know when I was able to move past the “failure” notion? When I met other mothers and fathers who had lost a child to suicide or overdose. They were all such normal, good, caring parents and some of the most wonderful, thoughtful people I’ve ever met. And then there are some I have not met in person that I had the same impression of. Good people. It struck me as unbelievable this could happen to them. That’s when I understood this happens to good parents.

What Richard said after his brother’s suicide

Published by

Anne Moss Rogers

I am the mother of two boys and the owner of emotionally naked, a site that reached a quarter million people in its first 18 months. I am a writer and professional public speaker on the topics of suicide, addiction, mental illness, and grief and currently working on getting a book published. I lost my youngest son, Charles, 20, to suicide June 5, 2015. As talented and funny as Charles was, letting other people know they matter was his greatest gift. And now the legacy I try and carry forward in my son's memory.

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