These might also apply to a death of a loved one that is not a suicide.
However, my grief experience is with the suicide of my son, Charles so I wrote from that point of view.
I will never get over it
A suicide, or any untimely death, is not something you “get over.” It’s a journey that changes over time. You’ll always miss your loved one but you learn to carry them with you. Saying something as dour as “I’ll never get over it” merely brings you down emotionally. It shatters your hope of having a life and finding … Read more...
Since Charles’ death June 5, 2015, I am a different person. With a different life. And a different purpose.
I have always been passionate. But I am propelled forward now in a different way than ever before.
For years we suffered with Charles through his struggles with depression, anxiety, ADHD, addiction and the sleep disorder. And I wondered what my purpose was. I always had faith there was one, I simply didn’t know what it was.
I wondered if it was to get this young man to adulthood as a stable adult who could take care of himself.
I made a pact that I was not going to get upset with people regarding what they said after Charles’ suicide. After all, it’s hard to know what to say and I was thankful when someone said anything. However, there are some classic zingers you should know to avoid.
1. Say nothing
I think this is the worst. If your child had stigmatized illnesses, you are used to nothing. No emotional support. No conversation. No resources. Saying nothing appears as though you are erasing this child because mention of him/her makes you uncomfortable. Many times people make excuses like, “I … Read more...
What I didn’t expect from all of you was the outpouring of support when I write publicly about all the stigmatized illnesses we suffered through with Charles– as well as my own grief. And I didn’t expect to be encouraged to keep writing about it.
I was not rejected or ostracized. I was not “unfriended” for bringing up unpleasant subjects. Maybe some have unfriended. But I’ve gained more than I have lost.
But I’ll be honest with you, I did not think it would be that way. I was fully prepared to be written off as the person always posting depressing … Read more...
I bet I am not the first mom to write their child in heaven. But this is my first letter to you since you died. I hope you get it because I am not sure how to have something sent to heaven.
It’s been about 8 months since you left us and I miss you. All the time. Every day. And I always will. There are days I wake up and the realization that you are gone just hits me like a freight train in my heart.
And those of us still grieving feel kind of stuck sometimes. Forgotten even. That’s the isolating nature of grief.
It’s like there is the speed train and everyone is back on it. But us. We just watch as it speeds by, unable to get on that train. Limping on every once in a while but then having to exit because we simply can’t keep up with the pace.
Sometimes it’s hard to to see happy family pictures knowing that I will never have a picture with both my … Read more...
It’s actually liberating to ditch things and basically spring clean my brain.
What others think. I have never been one to worry a lot about this. But once I lost a child by suicide to depression and addiction, I totally let go of caring what others thought of me personally. You either take me as I am or you don’t. And conversely I’m not going to be passing judgement on others either. It’s probably why I feel so bold about the mental health cause. I’m on a tear now and I will stop the day I die.