Approaching the two year anniversary of the loss of our son

When I started to write this journal or blog about my life following my son's suicide I anticipated being able to look back at it a year or two down the line and see some change.  Not so.  The pain and sadness is the same, the guilt perhaps more than it was then but I blame that partly on the shock that sets in for the longest time.  When I talk of guilt, it isn't only in my own failures but at that time I should have been advocating far more.  Let me tell you a little story though of the consequence of one of my attempts.  I may have told this in an earlier blog.  Michael had requested a Health Canada assessment.  He knew he was in trouble, and as a federal employee, had been assured that the government helps take care of their own.  Total fabrication.  The government will ensure you get seen by someone....however, the accuracy of that diagnosis can be (and in Michael's case) WAS wrong.  I requested a review but naturally the review board felt all proper procedures has been followed.  I hadn't questioned that.  I had questioned how they could come up with an incorrect diagnosis, totally disregarding reports by his own doctor who had know him his whole life....and this after 2 one hour visit.    At any rate...that isn't what I wanted to tell you.  I felt I had to tell this doctor how far off the mark she had been and had she identified Michael's illness he might possibly have found some help and maybe, just maybe might be alive.  And I think I probably crossed the line by suggesting I hoped she liked herself because I certainly didn't.  She immediately phoned my doctor to find out if she was safe....perhaps she did recognize the possibility of moody dysregulation after all. 

Perhaps I shouldn't say that I've not made progress.   I will now advocate on behalf of all who suffer for depression and other mood dysregulations.  I will talk about my own battle with the mood demons, with self harming attempts, with risky choice making.  I can forgive my mother for things that happened in our lives that we didn't understand. 

Yesterday I was able to take some of my sons things which have been pack in trunks in the garage and rent a nice storage unit and move them there.  I will do the same with his books and this is in preparation for selling this place.  This is the house Michael hung himself in.  Every time I walk in the front door I see that picture in my mind.  I don't think we (my husband and I) can start to move forward by staying here.  Each time we hear a neighbour running up the stairs we imagine the Michael is going to walk into our bedroom, much as he did the last three months of his life. 

But the tears and the loneliness and the grief remain.  I loved my son.  He was really not much more than a boy when he first moved out...just 20....he didn't move far...but for a young man with borderline with bipolar tendencies or vice versa he moved to an atmosphere ideal for fostering good healthy emotional problems.  Although he moved home a couple of times over the next 11 years, each time he was less strong, more emotionally beaten, less confident, more afraid of abandonment. 

Borderline, bipolar and many other illnesses creep up on you.  You find your behaviour changing...your ability to cope with certain things less than ideal and your reaction to circumstances sometimes (often) inappropriate.  It then takes a true friend, a true love to say...I will be here for you.  I will not leave you.  I will help you through this hell because I KNOW this is not you.  This is a reaction in your brain.  I still know the beauty of the soul within.

Some will say this is a fairy tale.  Well maybe it is.  Maybe we are too damned self involved...we care so much about us.  Reach out to someone this week.  My son took himself away on the 25th of February 2010.  Please do something kind for someone in his memory or the memory of someone you care about.  Thank you.

What it is

This morning I got to take my granddaughter to kindergarten.  Twenty-eight years ago I took her daddy to the same classroom.  I had no idea that it would upset me it did, once I was out  in the car and headed home.  How can time have passed so quickly and how can it all have ended up this way?  I understand the time thing..as we get older we all notice how quickly time passes don't we?   

The past two days I've kept myself busy getting organized for fall and winter.  There are still issues concerning Michael's estate needing to be tidied up.  Going through paperwork I found nine pages of emails he wrote me 17 days before he left us.  One page is poetry.  It's beautiful, sad, scared.  It broke my heart again.  I told my husband about it when he got home and he said I should throw all that out.  Never.  I will never throw away those precious last words from my son. 

Once before in my life, years ago, my mother convinced me  that the only way to recover from grief was to put that part of life behind oneself, so I burned 18 years of my life, pictures, letters, school year books, all in her fireplace.  It didn't work.  Well of course it didn't you're probably thinking but back then I was willing to try anything.  Since then I've come to realize that all our life's experiences go into making us the people we are and although I'm not quite a subscriber to "all things happen for a reason", I am one to "it is what it is". 

Today is visiting day with our granddaughter and this will get me through the day.  I've probably said before that she is the only reason we stay living where we do.  There will come a day when we won't need to be here, but for now we feel she has lost enough and so have we.  Today is Happy UnBirthday day..cupcakes, candles and a game of Cold Cold Hot to find her little gift.  For her, it's all about icing the cupcakes and putting in the candles.  Everything else is just...fun. 

Today too, the time came to start to repaint the bedroom my son lived in for the last three months of his life: the Winnie-the-Pooh room (old  nursery).   He came to live with us to feel "safe" while he continued to look for a new home and a place to live.  Perhaps it kept him alive for a bit longer, perhaps it drove him to the end.  Even though his closet remains untouched I am going to change everything about the room.  Oddly this isn't turning out to be the big deal I thought it was going to be.  Scraping off the old wallpaper this morning was therapeutic.

So, that's about it for today.  Mikey's candle is about to be re-lit.  This is the time of day when I start to feel like I've been punched in the abdomen...the pain is very physical...and this is the time of day when I either give up and let the waves come, medicate, or practice breathing knowing I just have to do it for six hours.

It is what it is. 

Milestones

Well, today is another milestone on this journey. I have finished settling Michael's estate.  I hope I never see another cheque or letter addressed to "The Estate of.." my son.  That's really all I want to say about it I guess.  It's finished.

Janis

Today I've been listening to music I listened to forty years (or more) ago.  I'd forgotten what great artists we had..incredible music.  Michael would have loved Janis.  Maybe he did..we didn't talk about her music but in listening to some of the music he did love I know he would have been drawn to the gravelly soulfulness she shared with us. 

Kind of an emotional day as it was check-in day about my return to work.  More about that another time. But, I was forced to face some facts about myself that I prefer to keep neatly folded away in a drawer.  So a door is closing and I'll just wait to see if another opens up. 

It was too much Mikey.  I couldn't do it.  Having made the decision to quit pretending, I feel like I've taken a weight away from you.  Was that part holding you back?  The doctor asked me if I looked for signs that you are okay, that you are near me.  The only thing I could come up with was a sense of peace.  Because you and I were so connected emotionally I feel that I will know when you've been totally released from the things you felt you were betrayed by. 

There are a couple of other things I have to do...you know what they are...difficult things...well..I guess since this writing is supposed to attempt to help anyone going through a similar situation, hints aren't enough.

I have a closet full of Michael's clothes..many of them I have no emotional attachment to because I rarely saw him in them...dress clothes...these should go to somewhere that they can be given to those who could use them.  That leaves me with two tubs of sweaters and t-shirts...those I can't get rid of.  Not yet.  I wear some of his tshirts still.   That's going to be the thing I'm to concentrate on next week.  I will do this alone.  My husband won't be able to and it's a spiritual step for me.  My God will walk me through it, I know.  It may be one of those 'bring me to my knees' moments but I won't be alone.

Signing out for tonight.  I hope this brings peace to those reading.