I wish I had the words to describe the deadness that occupies the places in me where other things once lived – -things like humor.
It seems like I have a sense of humor at times but everything is shallow. The depth that I used to experience and feel is gone. Pain is what I feel deeper and more often than any other feeling. I feel that even more than I feel love.
I swear sometimes the miss, and the sorrow, and the regret are so deep that my bones ache.
I remember when Charles picked this shirt out. It remember him in it. Charles always felt he had an angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other. I see a lot of angel/devil/demon references in his music.
Drugs were definitely a demon and made him feel as such. He hated himself for what they made him do. But I’m going to focus on one of his angel references that he wrote for Tiffani when he was at the Family School in NY.
“She’s my angel, so its only appropriate that she stay on my mind like … Read more...
My family suffered the triple stigma with our son – depression, addiction and death by suicide. Stigma can exist only in an environment where judgment and lack of education thrive. Which is precisely why we need to talk about them. Openly and without judgment.
I am stripping away the façade and hitting taboo subjects head on. The death of my son Charles Aubrey Rogers by suicide in June of 2015 taught me that.
Everybody has a story. Everybody has struggles. A visible success does not make any life perfect. And you know by now what can go on behind closed … Read more...
The shower is the best place to cry. The good news is that I don’t cry everyday in the shower like I once did.
Sometimes I just have nice memories in the shower. But when I really want to let loose, I do it here most of the time. It might hurt like crazy but I let it all hang out and it feels good to do so. I often feel better after. You moms who’ve lost a child know what I mean, don’t you? The car and the shower.
The first time we did this, I thought it was #iamnotashamed but it’s #imnotashamed. I’m and not I am.
I am sending this to TeamNotAshamed today so it was only fitting to make it today’s #griefheart. Rachel Griffen, a singer songwriter, had an article recently in the Washington Post. And she started the movement asking those with mental illness to speak up. Thank you Rachel.
If moms and dads, aunts and uncles, cousins and friends speak up about those who died by suicide, we could save more lives.
You’re probably thinking, “Why would I want to make a dour, gloomy, depressing subject like suicide a household word?”
Talking about suicide does not give someone the idea.
The idea is already in their heads.
By repeating it, taking it out of the dark and putting it in the spotlight, we give people permission to reach out, we remove the secrecy and stigma and make the idea look like a less logical solution.
Just as important as talking about it, is the listening part
Listening is a skill we don’t do enough of. We tend to lecture our teens for … Read more...
My coulda woulda shoulda is that last phone call I had with Charles. Here’s how it goes.
Alter Ego: You missed that last conversation, the one where he texted you, “Please pick up the f@#$%& phone, there is something I need to tell you.”
(my mind usually whines here)
Me: We had already been on the phone for two hours. He was shouting, incoherent and argumentative. I didn’t know where he was. I couldn’t understand him. I said, “I have to go. Bye, bye, I love you.” Then he called again and we talked again.
Alter Ego: But that third phone call, the one that … Read more...