18: 46 At this time, twenty months ago, I had seen my son alive for the last time, but I didn't know it. I was out and he had made his decision and unknown to me or to hid Dad upstairs, was just finishing things up by making his last few phone calls. In the time that it will take me to write this, on that night, he will have taken himself away from the pain and desperate unhappiness with which he could no longer cope.
As I type I glance down in the right hand corner of my laptop and watch the time pass and am acutely aware that as each second passes I am that much closer to that time. I feel the panic starting to build as it always does as I allow myself to go to the sad place. It's almost like even now, all these months later, there is still time for me to do something to head off Michael's suicide. 18:49
Today I've been reading back through comments I've been sent and I realize that many I've not responded to. I think part of the reason for this is that writing about suicide, surviving suicide (not the attempt but the loss caused by), the loss of my son, mood disorders, leave me emotionally drained afterwards. Please understand that for me this is a good thing. But one of the comments I read today was one I had read before in response to something I had written about reducing the medication I take. Although the comment was anonymous I knew right away who had written it and I trust this person completely and value their opinion. The writer reminded me that having known me both on and off prescribed meds, their opinion was that I did much better on them than off.
I do. That doesn't mean I like to take them. Meds have side affects and for me when I'm starting to feel better that part of my brain that wants to be like everyone else says "you're doing okay..you don't need the meds"..it happens every time! Now, imagine someone with a more severe mood dysregulation and possibly stronger medication going through the same process. The results can be terrible. Normal emotional roller coaster rides are made far far far worse. Withdrawal, if unsupervised can have devastating physical side effects. I'm bringing this up right now only because today was a beautiful day and although it is the 20-month anniversary of Michael's death I actually thought earlier this morning...."Hey. I'm doing okay..maybe today is a good day to start to cut back on medication x"....I'm a pretty smart woman, so what part of me just doesn't get it, even now???
Mikey really fought the whole idea of meds and he took strong medication that left him, at some times, in a fog. He couldn't keep food down, his beautiful thick hair was falling out, he lost so much weight, his hands shook, and still he couldn't cope and couldn't get help and at the end he just quit taking everything. 19:09...slow deep breaths...I can feel it coming...in twenty minutes I will go and stand out on my patio where I found my boy.
I am grateful that I have a support network to remind me that I do better by staying on the regime my doctor has me on for now. Easier for me. I'm a woman..(people are for more accepting of women taking mood regulation meds, than they are of men) Does it come down to this??....I know of two men who will openly talk about the importance of them staying on their prescribed medication for mood dysregulation. Two! You guys are my heros! Coming out of the "medication closet". It shouldn't be an issue..but it is and it's part of the reason we lose people to suicide. That's not to say that everyone taking meds for depression, or bipolar, or borderline, or any number of illnesses would end up committing suicide but we would lose fewer if there wasn't a stigma attached to mental disorders. 19:18......watching pictures of Michael on the digital frame.
So...will go and place a pill under my tongue and go out onto the patio and light a candle for my boy.
Michael, I love you. I wish you could have stayed here with us. We miss you so.
19:22. Good night.
Showing posts with label suicide of child. Show all posts
Showing posts with label suicide of child. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Strengths and weaknesses
A long time between posts. There have been many times when I wanted to sit and write but didn't. I worked so hard this summer at "getting better". I don't think one "gets better" from the loss of a loved one to suicide. That is the only perspective I can speak from. We may learn coping skills, we make medicate, meditate, drink, pray, run away; I've done all but the drink and that is only because I do medicate. We read and we write and we weep. We reach out to friends when we are frightened or feeling alone or just looking for some validation for the despair we feel. This summer I've done all these things and because I have such wonderful friends and family I understand on the blackest days, the days when I don't think I can go, that I have to, and more than that, that I want to. I just don't want to want to. Does that make any sense?
I've realized that I am a very strong woman. But to my way of thinking, strength shouldn't be compared to emotion. Yes, I weep every day. That doesn't mean I'm weak. It means, well, it means I am very sad and I miss my son and I am so sorry he had to suffer so before he chose to leave.
One the other hand, I saw my son as a strong man who fought long and hard to stay healthy but was eventually betrayed by the chemicals in his brain causing his mood dysregulation, by the medical system who cannot help so many, by Health Canada for ignoring his diagnosis and refusing him the help he needed to successfully return to work. I do not see his act as one of weakness, but as one of despair and strength to end is pain before his illness took him to places and decisions he did not want to go to or make. Healthy people do not do this. Desperate, frightened, pained people do, people whose ability to cope with the pain in their life has been surpassed. We are not the ones to judge what causes pain to another. God know this. God doesn't judge those who commit suicide. He understands. He is a compassionate God who sees the suffering I believe honestly that He gave my boy the emotional strength to take his own life. Michael was terrified of dying but more terrified of living. He prayed to God that he had known as a child, believed in but only really went to in times of trouble.
My worst times are when I rememer our last two years and recall how frightened and lonely his was after his marriage ended, how he grieved for times he couldn't spend with his child. I think those memories are harder than his death. Because the night he committed suicide I knew his pain had ended.
I have poems he wrote about what was going on in his soul as he was deciding to stay or leave. They are heart breaking because I feel so strongly there should be choices other than living or dying. There should be help. And there is so very little.
I have a friend who has a son going through what my son went through. He no longer wants to live. His mother is dying of cancer. He has other issues but talks suicide. He can't get help..please God don't let us lose him too because we don't really know what to do to help these people.
I would like to hear from anyone who is in a similar situation. Here in our little town we are starting a suicide survivor group. I think there are 7 or 8 families who have lost children to suicide. Way too many...any is too many.
I'm a bit sleepy now..it was an emotional day..but I needed to check back in...this is my place of safety and support. I'm going to go and write to my son now.
I've realized that I am a very strong woman. But to my way of thinking, strength shouldn't be compared to emotion. Yes, I weep every day. That doesn't mean I'm weak. It means, well, it means I am very sad and I miss my son and I am so sorry he had to suffer so before he chose to leave.
One the other hand, I saw my son as a strong man who fought long and hard to stay healthy but was eventually betrayed by the chemicals in his brain causing his mood dysregulation, by the medical system who cannot help so many, by Health Canada for ignoring his diagnosis and refusing him the help he needed to successfully return to work. I do not see his act as one of weakness, but as one of despair and strength to end is pain before his illness took him to places and decisions he did not want to go to or make. Healthy people do not do this. Desperate, frightened, pained people do, people whose ability to cope with the pain in their life has been surpassed. We are not the ones to judge what causes pain to another. God know this. God doesn't judge those who commit suicide. He understands. He is a compassionate God who sees the suffering I believe honestly that He gave my boy the emotional strength to take his own life. Michael was terrified of dying but more terrified of living. He prayed to God that he had known as a child, believed in but only really went to in times of trouble.
My worst times are when I rememer our last two years and recall how frightened and lonely his was after his marriage ended, how he grieved for times he couldn't spend with his child. I think those memories are harder than his death. Because the night he committed suicide I knew his pain had ended.
I have poems he wrote about what was going on in his soul as he was deciding to stay or leave. They are heart breaking because I feel so strongly there should be choices other than living or dying. There should be help. And there is so very little.
I have a friend who has a son going through what my son went through. He no longer wants to live. His mother is dying of cancer. He has other issues but talks suicide. He can't get help..please God don't let us lose him too because we don't really know what to do to help these people.
I would like to hear from anyone who is in a similar situation. Here in our little town we are starting a suicide survivor group. I think there are 7 or 8 families who have lost children to suicide. Way too many...any is too many.
I'm a bit sleepy now..it was an emotional day..but I needed to check back in...this is my place of safety and support. I'm going to go and write to my son now.
Monday, July 25, 2011
It's my bewitching hour or perhaps I should say, these are my bewitching hours. Anytime after about noon I am most comfortable here at home. I was up early and down to the coffee shop with my book before I usually get there but I was restless this morning and I've come to count on the ritual to provide the start to my day. I meet with a friend or two, chat, solve the worlds problems and then seem ready to face the rest of the day in whatever way I can. Three days ago I decided to increase one of my mood stabilizers (with Dr's okay) as I was really starting to have some very dark times. And for the time being I've told myself that it's okay to use the drugs prescribed to do what they are supposed to do..which is really keep me functioning.
Today is the 17 month anniversary of Michael's death. Although he left us on a Thursday it was the 25th of the month. Has there been any improvement for us? No, not really. We've come to understand the tears and rages and loneliness and regrets more, that's all. We smile in remembrance more I guess. There was no smiling for the first very long time. But it still seems such a waste to us. And we remain convinced that more can and should be done to help people with mood disorders. We need more research, more education, more understanding, more support, more acceptance.
I've just read a book by Michael J Fox: Always Looking Up, The Adventures of an Incurable Optimist.
The book is uplifting because it is funny, sad, factual and honest. It is mostly about his fight with Parkinson's Disease and the Michael J Fox Foundation for Parkinson's research. I have to admit that I read this book because in part of 1964, 1965 and 1966 my best friend was his sister Karen and a friend who had read the book before me knew this and told me she was sorry to have to tell me but that Karen had passed away. I can't remember any of Karen's family although I know I've been to their house on the base. But at our 30th school reunion we met up again and what I remembered about her, her smile and giggles were the same as when we were 15. Now, the Michael J Fox foundation raises millions and millions and millions of dollars and I wondered how people who don't have connections to wealthy and famous people do the same. The Michael Cuccione Foundation in Vancouver does the same for cancer. Michael Cuccione (the uncle) was a co-worker of mine. Maybe I can ask him for suggestions. I don't know...but my son can not have died for nothing. My girlfriends boys cannot have died for nothing. The youth who are dying from suicide every day here in our province...because there was no help for them...something must come from those souls who have left us here without them.
I have joined the Mood Disorder Association of BC and will join the Mood Disorder Assocation of Canada as well as the Canadian Association for Suicide Prevention. But I'm just one grieving mom. It's going to take more than just me.
I'd love some feedback on what others are doing. How are you managing? Are you moving on with your lives?
For now I'm going to curl up with a book and spend the afternoon with my boy.
Take care.
Today is the 17 month anniversary of Michael's death. Although he left us on a Thursday it was the 25th of the month. Has there been any improvement for us? No, not really. We've come to understand the tears and rages and loneliness and regrets more, that's all. We smile in remembrance more I guess. There was no smiling for the first very long time. But it still seems such a waste to us. And we remain convinced that more can and should be done to help people with mood disorders. We need more research, more education, more understanding, more support, more acceptance.
I've just read a book by Michael J Fox: Always Looking Up, The Adventures of an Incurable Optimist.
The book is uplifting because it is funny, sad, factual and honest. It is mostly about his fight with Parkinson's Disease and the Michael J Fox Foundation for Parkinson's research. I have to admit that I read this book because in part of 1964, 1965 and 1966 my best friend was his sister Karen and a friend who had read the book before me knew this and told me she was sorry to have to tell me but that Karen had passed away. I can't remember any of Karen's family although I know I've been to their house on the base. But at our 30th school reunion we met up again and what I remembered about her, her smile and giggles were the same as when we were 15. Now, the Michael J Fox foundation raises millions and millions and millions of dollars and I wondered how people who don't have connections to wealthy and famous people do the same. The Michael Cuccione Foundation in Vancouver does the same for cancer. Michael Cuccione (the uncle) was a co-worker of mine. Maybe I can ask him for suggestions. I don't know...but my son can not have died for nothing. My girlfriends boys cannot have died for nothing. The youth who are dying from suicide every day here in our province...because there was no help for them...something must come from those souls who have left us here without them.
I have joined the Mood Disorder Association of BC and will join the Mood Disorder Assocation of Canada as well as the Canadian Association for Suicide Prevention. But I'm just one grieving mom. It's going to take more than just me.
I'd love some feedback on what others are doing. How are you managing? Are you moving on with your lives?
For now I'm going to curl up with a book and spend the afternoon with my boy.
Take care.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Just living in different places
I fully intended to climb back into bed this morning after my husband left for work. But it didn't rain last night and it seems like a waste of the morning to do so. My cold is getting worse and I'm grumpy. I'm going to have to do something today to get rid of the grumpies. I'm afraid the cold has a mind of it's own. I've been looking a pictures of the kids when they were younger, and pictures taken since Michael died. I hope he can look down from Heaven and see his beautiful daughter. She looks so much like him but her little personality is a combination of her mom and her daddy. I think back to what Michael was like when he was four and a half. He was another beautiful child. But that was a bad period in my life and I was struggling with life. What difference would have been made in my children's lives had I been more emotionally stable I'll never know. But gut feeling, the little voice I think is always right, says that was a crucial time for Michael. That's not to read as self-incrimination but fact. I did the best I could as a parent but the truth is I came up short at that time. It has nothing to do with love. My love for my children was and is unconditional. It had to do with life circumstances and abilities and inabilities of coping. It also had to do with what I now understand is a major mood disorder..then called manic depression..now called bipolar. Periods of deep and intense sadness often followed by sort of bizarre behaviour..anything to get myself cheered up.
I've included a link to a website about depression. It's a Canadian Website but I know there are such helpful resources world wide. Thoses of us who have lost someone to suicide have seen first hand the devestation that can be causes when the mind and soul's ability to cope with what life is giving them, has been surpassed.
I have also joined the Mood Disorders Association of BC. I hunger for a better understanding of the illness that took my son and affects millions of people. I believe mood disorders need to be brought out into the open and understood. They are after all, illnesses. No one chooses to suffer with depression, loneliness, manic behaviour, out of control rages, inappropriate behaviour. We are still a very closed minded society in regard to mood dysregulation and suicide.
It's almost 8:00 and I want to go out and finish the lawn and weedwhacking and then take my cold to bed and lay down with the baby blanket on my bed. Today I pulled out Michael's baby blanket. I remember crocheting it as I worked nights as the switchboard operator and the hotel I worked at when I was expecting him. What a great day that was...the power had gone out so I packed wood from the garage and kept our little house warm with the fire and by leaving the oven on all day. I felt like such a pioneer woman! I think my husband was scared because it took about three phone calls to get him to finally get home from work...I made him supper..can you believe it? What was I thinking??? Contractions while I cooked peas, rice and chicken. We packed up our little '72 VW and got to the hospital just after 7:00 pm. Mikey was born at 10:00. He weighted 9 lbs 2 oz and was beautiful from the moment he was born. Back then we got to stay in the hospital for a few days. I was there three or four as Michael had to go under the lights for a couple of days. That moment, the moment I heard him cry, my life became complete. The piece of my puzzle that had been missing, had been found and life was perfect. God had forgiven me anything I had done in my life and given me this beautiful child to love and protect.
And I am grateful for the 375 months and 3 days and 21.5 hours I was allowed to have him with me here on earth. He is still my son, he will always be my son. We just have to live apart for awhile.
I've included a link to a website about depression. It's a Canadian Website but I know there are such helpful resources world wide. Thoses of us who have lost someone to suicide have seen first hand the devestation that can be causes when the mind and soul's ability to cope with what life is giving them, has been surpassed.
I have also joined the Mood Disorders Association of BC. I hunger for a better understanding of the illness that took my son and affects millions of people. I believe mood disorders need to be brought out into the open and understood. They are after all, illnesses. No one chooses to suffer with depression, loneliness, manic behaviour, out of control rages, inappropriate behaviour. We are still a very closed minded society in regard to mood dysregulation and suicide.
It's almost 8:00 and I want to go out and finish the lawn and weedwhacking and then take my cold to bed and lay down with the baby blanket on my bed. Today I pulled out Michael's baby blanket. I remember crocheting it as I worked nights as the switchboard operator and the hotel I worked at when I was expecting him. What a great day that was...the power had gone out so I packed wood from the garage and kept our little house warm with the fire and by leaving the oven on all day. I felt like such a pioneer woman! I think my husband was scared because it took about three phone calls to get him to finally get home from work...I made him supper..can you believe it? What was I thinking??? Contractions while I cooked peas, rice and chicken. We packed up our little '72 VW and got to the hospital just after 7:00 pm. Mikey was born at 10:00. He weighted 9 lbs 2 oz and was beautiful from the moment he was born. Back then we got to stay in the hospital for a few days. I was there three or four as Michael had to go under the lights for a couple of days. That moment, the moment I heard him cry, my life became complete. The piece of my puzzle that had been missing, had been found and life was perfect. God had forgiven me anything I had done in my life and given me this beautiful child to love and protect.
And I am grateful for the 375 months and 3 days and 21.5 hours I was allowed to have him with me here on earth. He is still my son, he will always be my son. We just have to live apart for awhile.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Waves
Today marks another tiny milestone along the way; I have completed everything to do with Michael's estate. This has been a difficult process. I really dragged my feet on it, I admit. When Michael died he didn't leave a will so it turned out that I had to apply to administer his estate. The lawyers suggested I use a lawyer to do this and their estimated cost was between $3 000 and $5 000. I felt that the lawyers had already taken too much money and I felt and still do that they contributed in their way to the terrible stress my son was under. So, I went to Staples and bought a Probate kit ($39) After 16 months, a few mistakes, about $500, and with help from a friendly woman at the probate office, my local notary, and a wonderful girl at our bank...it's all done. But it saddens me because I feel like it's a thread that held me to my boy and it's been broken. This feeling will pass I know but it's a sad feeling nonetheless.
I've put on a movie, lit Michael's candle, closed the blinds and shut out the world for the rest of the day. This is self indulgence, I know but I have a wicked summer cold and it feels right to sniffle and shuffle about in big clothes. It's mid-July, and I want to turn on the fireplace. I might. One of the things I'm learning is that it's okay for me to do things to make myself feel better.
Here' s something else I've been doing the past few weeks: taking movies out from the library and watching them during the day. Such a peacful way to take my mind off myself and the dark thoughts that persist. Today I'm watching Julie and Julia and I love it. It reminds me how much I love to cook..but I've really gotten out the habit. The focus of my day is still, then, to get through it without making it worse. I've had a couple of days over the last few weeks where I've not been successful at all. I have made them worse. It's such an easy thing to do...far easier than you'd think.
When I started to write today and had things I wanted to say but it was mostly just to check in. I'm going to take my cold and curl up under a blanket and watch my movie. I miss my boy. It's almost 17 months. It can't be that long. How have we survived without him? God what I would give to see him smile once again or to hear him laugh. So...here it comes...the wave. But it will pass as it always does. The sun is trying to shine so I'm going to open the blinds and try to brighten my thoughts.
I've put on a movie, lit Michael's candle, closed the blinds and shut out the world for the rest of the day. This is self indulgence, I know but I have a wicked summer cold and it feels right to sniffle and shuffle about in big clothes. It's mid-July, and I want to turn on the fireplace. I might. One of the things I'm learning is that it's okay for me to do things to make myself feel better.
Here' s something else I've been doing the past few weeks: taking movies out from the library and watching them during the day. Such a peacful way to take my mind off myself and the dark thoughts that persist. Today I'm watching Julie and Julia and I love it. It reminds me how much I love to cook..but I've really gotten out the habit. The focus of my day is still, then, to get through it without making it worse. I've had a couple of days over the last few weeks where I've not been successful at all. I have made them worse. It's such an easy thing to do...far easier than you'd think.
When I started to write today and had things I wanted to say but it was mostly just to check in. I'm going to take my cold and curl up under a blanket and watch my movie. I miss my boy. It's almost 17 months. It can't be that long. How have we survived without him? God what I would give to see him smile once again or to hear him laugh. So...here it comes...the wave. But it will pass as it always does. The sun is trying to shine so I'm going to open the blinds and try to brighten my thoughts.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Remembering
Standing upstairs ironing just now I was listening the radio, a station called "The Crooner's Lounge" from somewhere..and "I'll Remember You" came on. Naturally I was thinking of Michael and it came to me that people shouldn't have to remember their children in the sense that those of us who have lost children remember them. To me, remembering means recalling from somewhere in our memory and I wonder if any of us every have a moment when we feel that our child is actually gone. Remembering incidents, funny and sad things..that's different. My feeling is that the soul of our child is always with us, especially the mothers among us.
On a different thought: I don't read back through my posts to I don't know if I've done this already but here is a list of books I have found helpful over the past 16 months.
Last September just before the start of the Suicide Awareness gathering in Vancouver, we met a couple vacationing from the US. We were wearing our t-shirts with Michael's picture and Suicide Prevention Week printed on them and they came up to us and asked if the picture on the t-shirt was our son and then asked when we had lost him. Then they told us they had lost their boy a few years ago. He had only been 12. Only twelve years old..and they had been blindsided because they'd had no indication of the degree of his despair. At my darkest times, I know that I was allowed to "prepare" myself for my son's death. Although it made for years of worrying because it has been my deepest fear for years, it also gave me a bit of an emotional overcoat I think. Because of this I've never asked myself "Why, where did this come from"..not in the true sense of the question. I think I've asked myself "why MY boy....why no help?"...but those are different questions.
Each of the books on suicide that I've listed above has a comprehensive reading list and support groups directory There are many online support groups. I have tried a couple but feel too disconnected from the ones I've tried. Sadly, that is only because there are so many of us who have lost friends and family to suicide. So very many.
I'm working on finding meaning in Michael's suicide and in my own life.
On a different thought: I don't read back through my posts to I don't know if I've done this already but here is a list of books I have found helpful over the past 16 months.
- Touched by Suicide, Hope and Healing After Loss, Michael F. Myers, M.D. and Carla Fine
- No Time to Say Goodbye, Carla Fine,
- Suicide Survivors Handbook, A guide for The Bereaved and Those Who Wish To Help Them, Trudy Carlson
- Healing After the Suicide of a Loved One, Ann Smolin, C.S.W. and John Guinan, Ph.D,
- Night Falls Fast, Understanding Suicide, Kay Redfield Jamison
- An Unquiet Mind, Kay Redfield Jamison, and
- A Brilliant Madness, Living With Manic-Depressive Illness, Patty Duke and Gloria Hochman.
- Peace Begins With Me, Ted Kuntz, M. Ed
- Overcomers, Inc. Lynne Klippel, and
- Eat, Pray, Love, Elizabeth Gilbert.
Last September just before the start of the Suicide Awareness gathering in Vancouver, we met a couple vacationing from the US. We were wearing our t-shirts with Michael's picture and Suicide Prevention Week printed on them and they came up to us and asked if the picture on the t-shirt was our son and then asked when we had lost him. Then they told us they had lost their boy a few years ago. He had only been 12. Only twelve years old..and they had been blindsided because they'd had no indication of the degree of his despair. At my darkest times, I know that I was allowed to "prepare" myself for my son's death. Although it made for years of worrying because it has been my deepest fear for years, it also gave me a bit of an emotional overcoat I think. Because of this I've never asked myself "Why, where did this come from"..not in the true sense of the question. I think I've asked myself "why MY boy....why no help?"...but those are different questions.
Each of the books on suicide that I've listed above has a comprehensive reading list and support groups directory There are many online support groups. I have tried a couple but feel too disconnected from the ones I've tried. Sadly, that is only because there are so many of us who have lost friends and family to suicide. So very many.
I'm working on finding meaning in Michael's suicide and in my own life.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Changes
I can't quite remember why I called this blog "aftermichael" because there is, nor will there ever be an "after Michael" Michael still is in my heart. He is a part of me and a part of his father and a part of his daughter and a part of his sisters and his nieces and nephews.
Michael will always live on because we will keep his memory alive. Without any exaggeration I tell you that he is the first thought of each of my days and he is also the last thought. There are nights I fall asleep praying. There are nights I fall asleep listening to my iPhone. But I listen to the iPhone to keep from crying myself to sleep and I pray about my family and my boy..others too...but my family and Michael are the last words of my prayers.
I was unable to continue with my return to work (for now) so this past two weeks has been another transitional period. I haven't written because I didn't really have anything to say. I will say that I have increased my medications (doctor's advice) and am in no way ashamed of that. My meds aren't something I abuse. They help me cope. There will come a time when I won't need some of them so much...but some I will always take.
I am getting out my books again. I find them so helpful because I know I am not alone and I do become very conscious of talking too much (outside this blog) of my sadness. Truly, very few people want to hear it, because no one knows what to say. My advice to anyone who has someone needing to talk to not to feel they need to respond in any way other than that of being a listener. There are no answers for this. Nothing takes away the sadness, the frustration, the anger or the fear.
If you are walking the road of a survivor you are probably going to find that you are a much more empathetic person now. You are going to be a better listener, a better shoulder to cry on, a kinder person to be reached out to. I don't think it's a conscious decision. I think it just happens. You may even find yourself crying with someone over what they are going through. I think these are all good things. I believe so strongly that we are here on earth to help each other. Sometimes we don't figure this out until too late..but really, it is NEVER too late to be kind. We may regret that in some cases it is too late...but...we always are presented with new opportunities. Look around us...there is always someone hurting. It is not up to us to judge how much. It is only up to us to say "I'm here. How can I help?"
I listened to the words of the song my son picked out for his dance with his Mom at this wedding. I'd never really listened until the other day..not truly. How I wish I had listened before..and if I had...would I have asked the questions I now want to ask him? I am blessed to have been given such beautiful children and grandchildren. To have been allowed so completely into their lives...wow...they trust me...what a gift to be loved so much by one's children.
I miss my beautiful son but I do know he loved me. He trusted me...ultimately he trusted me with his life. He knew I would understand.
I miss you Michael. Thank you for loving me so much.
Mama.
Friday, June 10, 2011
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.
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.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
14 months plus
I had one minute of insight into Michael's suicide today and I can remember it to re-tell it but the moment has passed and the questions have started again. This is how it went:
I had wanted to have a memory quilt made for Michael's daughter and I wanted something in his handwriting to her to photo copy. The only thing she has is his suicide letter to her and I asked her mother if it would be alright to photocopy a line of it to put in the quilt and in going through papers to file Michael's income tax I found it. The line reads "I will love you always and forever. Love, Daddy" and then the date he wrote the later. That date was 15 days before he killed himself and I realized that when my granddaughter is older she may ask why Daddy wrote a letter two weeks before he committed suicide.
I believe Michael had decided to take himself away from this earth, from his suffering, from the demons in his life unless one thing in his life changed and I believe he held out hope for that one thing until the late afternoon he died. I think something must happen inside a person's soul when that time comes because he made phone calls but certainly to those he knew would stop him he didn't let on it would be his last phone call. I do know he did let one person know what he was going to do and that person did nothing. He made that phone call about ten minutes before he hung himself. How I wish that person had called the police, the ambulance, us.....anyone...or said..."just wait five minutes, I will come over"...the phone call from Michael might have been one last call for help, or it may not have. It may have been a "please take care of my family" call, I really don't know because I can never ask. The pain would be too great. I do know what triggered his decision that day, that hour, that minute and there is no blame to be attached to that. But I wonder why the person he spoke to, the person he told he was going to kill himself, the person who knew he was unstable, didn't call anyone. If he had had another half hour I would have been home. I can't stop these thoughts. They drive me crazy, they give me nightmares. they keep me broken.
I know this kind of thinking is common to suicide survivors. Maybe the specifics vary a little but the unanswerable questions, by their nature, will never stop. It was fourteen months yesterday that Michael ended his life. Our pain is as great as it was the night he died. I still wait for the phone to ring and every now and then I send an email to his account(s). Please don't misunderstand me. I am NOT looking for peace. I am NOT looking for happiness. I am looking for my son..I want him back. I will miss him with every fibre of my heart and soul until I join him. But I will NEVER ever turn my back or ignore anyone asking for help. In memory of my beautiful son who never turned his back on someone in need I will try. Trying is better than not trying...I know I am rambling but my thinking is all over the place this afternoon.
Will talk again soon.
I had wanted to have a memory quilt made for Michael's daughter and I wanted something in his handwriting to her to photo copy. The only thing she has is his suicide letter to her and I asked her mother if it would be alright to photocopy a line of it to put in the quilt and in going through papers to file Michael's income tax I found it. The line reads "I will love you always and forever. Love, Daddy" and then the date he wrote the later. That date was 15 days before he killed himself and I realized that when my granddaughter is older she may ask why Daddy wrote a letter two weeks before he committed suicide.
I believe Michael had decided to take himself away from this earth, from his suffering, from the demons in his life unless one thing in his life changed and I believe he held out hope for that one thing until the late afternoon he died. I think something must happen inside a person's soul when that time comes because he made phone calls but certainly to those he knew would stop him he didn't let on it would be his last phone call. I do know he did let one person know what he was going to do and that person did nothing. He made that phone call about ten minutes before he hung himself. How I wish that person had called the police, the ambulance, us.....anyone...or said..."just wait five minutes, I will come over"...the phone call from Michael might have been one last call for help, or it may not have. It may have been a "please take care of my family" call, I really don't know because I can never ask. The pain would be too great. I do know what triggered his decision that day, that hour, that minute and there is no blame to be attached to that. But I wonder why the person he spoke to, the person he told he was going to kill himself, the person who knew he was unstable, didn't call anyone. If he had had another half hour I would have been home. I can't stop these thoughts. They drive me crazy, they give me nightmares. they keep me broken.
I know this kind of thinking is common to suicide survivors. Maybe the specifics vary a little but the unanswerable questions, by their nature, will never stop. It was fourteen months yesterday that Michael ended his life. Our pain is as great as it was the night he died. I still wait for the phone to ring and every now and then I send an email to his account(s). Please don't misunderstand me. I am NOT looking for peace. I am NOT looking for happiness. I am looking for my son..I want him back. I will miss him with every fibre of my heart and soul until I join him. But I will NEVER ever turn my back or ignore anyone asking for help. In memory of my beautiful son who never turned his back on someone in need I will try. Trying is better than not trying...I know I am rambling but my thinking is all over the place this afternoon.
Will talk again soon.
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