When I decided to go public about Charles‘ drug addiction and suicide, I was terrified. Would he become the “poster child” for those ugly topics? Would everyone think that’s all he stood for? And would I become that mom that no one saw any other way–a mom whose child killed himself?
The voices inside my head encouraging me to speak out overwhelmed the ones trying to make me quiet.
Was I up to living a brand of being emotionally naked? Would I regret it?
Not once did I regret it. But regret reared it’s ugly head when it came to my son and questioning myself as a parent. Who wouldn’t?
Talking and writing about it helped me keep the memory of my son alive, introduce his illnesses but also share his gifts. What’s more, it offered me the opportunity to create a platform and connect with others in our shared pain.
Instead of shunning me, you all supported me and your encouragement helped me find my voice. None of that was planned.
So yeah. I’m the mom whose son killed himself. But I’m also pretty normal as moms go. As are many of you. We are good moms and good dads to whom something terrible has happened.