A Mother's Love

Not a day passes that I am not reminded of my son, or think of something I want to tell him, or ask him to do for me.  It hurts like hell.

I get busy and go to work, and the day passes.

I come home and walk Sadie, make supper, and head for bed, and the evening passes.

Repeat these steps. 
Over and over.

It makes the time pass, but it doesn't change what's inside.
Most of the time, its just the pain of losing someone.
Sometimes, it's not wanting to do all of these things alone.
And every now and then, it's full on anger.

I raised an awesome son.  He was always willing to do whatever needed to be done, and sometimes would do things that didn't need doing.  He did them any way.  In that way, he was a lot like my father.  He might not have said the words, but his actions said "I love you" with everything in him.

I watched my son's attitude and demeanor diminish over time as he tried living life with another family.  Good-hearted people often get taken advantage of by others who aren't as good-hearted as themselves.  In my own "theory of life" there are givers and there are takers.  Givers give of themselves at every turn, and have a hard time believing that others don't think like they do.  Takers do what they can, take what they need, to fill whatever void they're trying to fill.  And they're smart enough to know how to take advantage of those givers who cross their paths.   My son's downfall was his pride; he hated to admit that things weren't going well, so he stayed.   In that way, he's like his mother. 

When I was married, it wasn't working; neither of us was growing, it was more existing.  But back then, you stayed married "for the kids".  I was so prideful, that I couldn't admit that it wasn't going well, that things were falling apart, so we went from day to day to day ......   In the end that just didn't work and we divorced.  Telling my parents was the hardest thing ever.  I was sure I would be "judged".   But just like I would have told my son, my parents told me that they loved me, and would support me in any decision I made. 

Which brings up the recurring theme of "if only's..."

I can't do it over again, and I can't change what's been.

I can only keep on going, and keep remembering all the good.

No matter his choice, I loved my son then, and love him still.

Survivor's Guilt

When someone you love commits suicide, there are so many questions and so much confusion surrounding the situation.  I've been trying to read up on SOS:  Survivor of Suicide.  Clearly my son had some kind of issues.  He had taken a step to get his life in order, coming to live in my home again.  I think somewhere deep down I knew that he wasn't the same young man who had moved out a little over three years ago.  And while I'm one of those types who can find a solution or work around most problems, I can't do it if I don't know what the problem is. 

I know he had issues with money and was struggling.  I offered up some help and some solutions to getting it under control.  He took my advice, actually sat down and wrote out the bills he needed to pay and how much was owed each month.  We were about to set up some recurring payments so he could get out from under those pesky late fees that add up quickly when you're late making a payment. 

One of the things I learned about the guilt part is that as a parent we question ourselves over and over, "where did I go wrong" , "did I push him too hard" , "If only ..... " .  Sometimes outside influences have more sway over our kids than we do.   Approximately 60% of all people who die by suicide may suffer from a mood disorder, and more than 90% have a diagnosable mental disorder.   When I read that I thought "ok, maybe that's true" but as parents we like to think we understand our kids and have some kind of internal radar that tips us off when there's something "off".  That may be true when your kids are younger and they aren't keeping up with school work or social skills, but once they reach a certain age, it's harder for us to know what's really going on.

My son was 33.   While he wasn't in his right mind (in my opinion) he knew enough to let that influence his own decision making.  And while I have some anger issues that raise it's ugly head from time to time, I know that even if I had it to do over again, I'm not sure my son could have put to words what he was feeling. 

As a survivor of suicide, I have to learn that I don't need to feel guilty over my son's death and the circumstances.  I have a right to retain my individuality and not be judged because of his death.  I have the right to a new beginning.  I have the right to be. 

It won't be easy; I'll backslide from time to time. 
But somehow I must make peace with what happened
while still loving my son and the memory of him. 

And if you're struggling with some kind of suicidal thoughts or emotions, please seek help.

An Angered Heart

Dear Brian:

Nearly a week has gone by, and there's an empty place in my heart that was always yours.  And it hurts.  Sometimes I get busy and the hurt moves off to the side, but only for a little while.  Then I remember what happened, and I begin to hurt all over again.

Yesterday, Mike stopped by. He's hurting and in shock.  I found it very difficult to hold my tongue and not lash out, telling him I just don't understand what happened, what went on, what event(s) in that household led up to the changes I saw happening to you ???   I get so mad. 

Anger is a very bad thing to hold on to, but sometimes it's just *there* and I don't know what to do with it!  Well, yeah, you know how I deal when I get angry --- I clean and scrub and organize!!  And I'll be doing that again ... soon.   I let the anger simmer on the back burner for now, because I'm too tired to do too much these past couple of day.

Sadie misses you, and can't understand what's happening.  Well, ok, I admit that's my interpretation, but she still cruises out the bedroom and down the hall to your room every night.  I find myself listening for your footsteps, or to hear the TV going. 

I can't imagine such a dark place that you were in, and never dare think beyond that, to imagine what you were thinking that day.  But no troubles are ever forever, everything could have changed, if only you had let one of us know what was really going on.  It makes me sad knowing things got so far out of hand; we've always solved the issues that came up in the past. 

For now, it's just one day at a time, one foot in front of the other, until I find my way to some peace.

Forever missed.
Love, Mom