It is my absolute privilege to be able to publish this on my blog. You guys, it is HARD to be this vulnerable. It is HARD to share your heart but it is SO NECESSARY!!!! I truly believe the only way we can change the stigma surrounding mental health and suicide is to TALK ABOUT IT. We have to normalize these conversations. We have create spaces where it feels SAFE to be HUMAN. My guest blogger wishes to remain anonymous and I respect that whole heartedly. My sincerest thank you to her for being brave enough to share her story.

XOXO - Jennifer

My Brushes WIth Suicide:

Unfortunately, I have had too many brushes with suicide.  All from a different angle. First, my husband suffers from depression.  Several years ago, he began to spiral downward. I finally got him to tell me that he had a “plan” to take his life.  I will never forget the feeling of taking him to the hospital and leaving him to stay in the “mental health” unit. I sat in my car and cried, knowing it was the hardest thing I had ever done in my life. Even though he went willingly, it hurt my heart so much knowing how he was suffering and in so much pain.

As he recovered, with changes of medicine and counseling, he talked to me about his thoughts. When I asked him how he thought taking his life would affect his family, friends, and community, he told me that in that moment he wasn’t able to foresee any consequences.  All he could think about was getting rid of the pain he was feeling. With treatment, he began to return to his normal self. However, I had scars. I worried every time I was not with him. Would he come back or would it be the last time I would see him? Is he still taking his medicine? I could not get the scene that he described to me out of my mind.

To this day, I still worry. 

A few years later, his depression slowly crept back to the surface. Even though I’m sure it was gradual, it wasn’t until it was almost too late again to realize that something needed to be done. I tried to get him in to see doctors and mental health professionals, but either they were full and not taking patients, or they couldn’t get him in for several weeks. We didn’t have that much time.  I talked him into going to the Emergency Room to see if we could get a med change, knowing I would probably be leaving him there again. Sure enough, after evaluation, it was agreed that he should stay. However, there was no room for him at this hospital. He had to be transported over an hour away to another facility that was willing to take him. Again, watching him leave the hospital in a transport vehicle was one of the most difficult things I have ever done. 

What really bothers me was the thoughts running through my head. I was struggling myself to work, take care of my children, take care of my own mental health, and I was somewhat angry by thinking “what about me?” I knew this was selfish, but I was frustrated. I also felt guilty because I remember actually thinking that if he was really in that much pain, maybe he would be better off being at peace. I never thought I could feel that way, but when you see your loved one suffering so much, you just want them to feel relief and free of pain.  I live with the guilt everyday of feeling this way and knowing it’s not the answer. However, in some strange way, I can understand.

This past year my children experienced the pain of losing a classmate to suicide.  Oh how it hurts to watch your children grieve. I could see so vividly in my mind them sitting together the night before.  I remember driving my child and dropping him off at his friend’s house to play video games. For one of my boys it was his first loss of a friend and for the other it was the second, only to bring back memories of that horrible car accident.  Besides not being able to answer that dreaded question “Why?” it was so difficult as a parent because my teenagers wanted to be with their friends. I just wanted to hold them and say everything would be alright, but they wanted to gather with their friends to grieve.  However, it was when 50-60 kids came together in the gymnasium of an old school, now a church, at their own will, to talk and cry and laugh, that I knew they were surrounded by the love of friends. The parents stood on the perimeter, grieving ourselves, but knowing that we would all pull together and find a way to move on.

Now I sit here with the vision of my brother after he felt he could go on no more.  I can’t get his face out of my head. How long does that last? When will I stop the constant reel of pictures going in my mind and be able to focus on the rest of my life?  The flowers, the Facebook posts, the hugs, the condolences. Don’t get me wrong, all are greatly appreciated, but I really just want my brother back. His funeral was so beautiful and such a tribute to him. 

Here is what I think is making me struggle. My brother and I lost our father in Vietnam. We both only have pictures to remember him by. My brother had gotten in touch with some of his buddies from Vietnam and they had adopted him as their own, in honor of our father.  He was my connection to my father. He would tell me stories from the guys of the good, the bad, and the ugly about our father. After the funeral I was able to visit with a few of these men. We talked about my brother and they shared about my dad and his experiences in Vietnam.  As I write this, it becomes more clear that maybe I am not only grieving for my brother, but for my father as well. As I was only six months old when he died, I don’t think I have truly ever had the opportunity to do that. I’m not angry with my brother, but I do feel robbed of all the opportunities and stories that I will not get to share with him.  Thankfully, we had been able to visit the Vietnam Memorial Wall in Washington DC together quite a few years back. I know that he and my father are probably up there fishing right now and I pray that he is at peace.  

Suicide has affected my life in many ways; as a wife, a parent, and a sibling.  We need to push for better mental health care! We also need to erase the stigma that it’s not something to talk about.  These people need to know that others care about them, no matter what! Look at all the support that people with cancer receive.  There is nothing wrong with that, but if we came together for people with mental health issues with the same amount of support, maybe we would be able to pull them out of their depths and could celebrate with them a new outlook on life.

National Hotline for Suicide Prevention - 1-800-273-8255