In 2004, I was pregnant with my daughter and at a job I enjoyed with a morally corrupt boss that I hated.
But I was fine.
When I was 32 weeks pregnant, my father came for a visit. Dad lived two hours away from me, so having him show up suddenly for a visit wasn’t unusual. In fact, I loved it. I’d wake up to the smells of breakfast cooking, coffee brewing, and my Dad whistling happily to himself as he took over as caretaker in my house.
There was something very comforting about my Dad’s presence in my house. My father was a six-foot tall and solid man. So when he hugged me, he enveloped me. The feel of his embrace, the scent of his cologne, the unmistakable him-ness, could give me strength and faith that no matter what, I would always be okay.
My father loved me. My father was my friend. My father was a fabulous grandfather to his grandson. My father was my foundation. My rock. My stability.
And that morning, my father showed up and made breakfast. Blueberry muffins. He spent the morning talking to my son and I. He helped my son tie his shoes for school. I could hear them laughing and talking and whispering to each other as Dad helped his grandson fix his hair for school.
When it was time to leave, my son did not want to go. He wanted to stay home and spend the day with his grandpa. I remember saying to my son, “Come on, I’m taking you to school. Grandpa will be here when you get home.”
My son hugged his Grandpa goodbye. His grandpa told him he loved him. He told his Grandson to have a great day.
I told my Dad I’d be back in about an hour; I needed to stop at the store before I came home. My Dad told me to be careful. He kissed me on my forehead and told me, “I really love you, kid. I’m glad I came to see you.”
As I drove out of the driveway, I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw my Dad taking out my trash and for one moment; one tiny moment, I thought to myself, “Maybe I can let my kid skip one day of school. We could all just spend a nice day together.”
But, my son had a spelling test, and his gifted class that day and I didn’t think he should miss those. I looked at my father in that mirror and I felt so good that he was there. I was so glad to have my father show up that week.
I remember thinking, “Time with Dad is just what I need.”
It was early spring here. The morning was slightly chilly but the sun was shining brightly. The day was bright with promise. After dropping off my son and a quick stop at the store, I headed home.
I got out of the car and grabbed my few bags of groceries and went into the house. At 32 weeks pregnant, I had an awkward sense of balance, but I managed to get to the door in spite of the dog and that’s when I thought, “What’s the dog doing outside? She doesn’t stay outside by herself.”
I went inside to find that my father had killed himself.
Much of what happened that day after that is burned into my brain and I will never, ever forget it. Some things are gray and fuzzy and lost to the haze of my grief and I’ll never remember them.
What I do know is that my world, my foundation, my entire sense of who I am was taken away in one moment by the one person who was supposed to keep me from ever feeling like that.
I’m doing okay with it.
So why am I telling you this story?
Because suicide is bullshit. And it’s aftereffects last a lifetime. In our case? Two lifetimes. It’s shaped who I am today and who my son is as well.
Because if there is anyone here reading this who thinks that suicide will end pain needs to know that it causes a lifetime of pain. Pain, confusion and hurt.
Because no one wants to talk about it.
When someone loses a parent to an illness, an accident or at someone else’s hand? People are there for them. They listen to them. They commiserate. They form a support for them that is so goddamn necessary to heal. Not so when someone you love takes their own life.
Suicide is a topic that no one wants to be connected to.
People don’t want to talk about it. They can’t hear about it. They don’t want to comfort you because they don’t know how. It’s not something that they want to believe can happen to you. They don’t know what to say. They don’t have the answers either, and that makes it difficult for them. It’s because of this that my father’s suicide has made me the loneliest I have ever been.
I’ve been isolated in so many ways because of it. So isolated that I don’t know if I will ever not feel like I’m separated from everyone else again.
I could sit here and tell you all the ways this has changed me. All the ways I am stronger. All the ways I am scarred. About crying in absolute emotional pain and just wanting my dad when just a few weeks later, I gave birth to my daughter. About all the irrational fears I have. Someday, I may tell you about all of it.
Today, I want to show you that my Dad was a real person, just as I am. I love him today just as I always have.
The day my son was born, my dad wasn’t able to be there. I can’t remember why. I believe my dad was cooing to him. But the obvious joy at having that boy makes this photo one of my most treasured memories. I wanted you to see it.
My Dad was a real person. He existed.
Today, I tell you about my Dad because this community is amazing. I read your stories and I am humbled by your courage, your tenacity and your amazing support for each other.
I’m so proud to be a part of this project, even in a small way. I’m so proud of every person who has posted and who has commented. I’m so proud to know that this community exists.
You have no idea how much you would have helped me in 2004, but I do.
I tell you my story because you’ve told me all of your stories. Your stories, in your voices, about your experiences have made me feel like people don’t suck as much as I thought.
I need you to know that if you have lost someone to suicide that it’s time we start talking about it and making it okay to talk about it.
I need you to know that if you are thinking about killing yourself, my story is a very good example of what you will leave behind. By killing yourself, you will have caused more pain than you can imagine. Pain that will never go away. Please, please, don’t do this to everyone in your family. Don’t do this to your parents, children, and friends.
I need you to know that for six years, I’ve stopped believing that anyone would love me more than they love themselves. I don’t know that I’ll ever believe that again.
I need you to know that I am sharing my story because I trust you.
Thank you all for inspiring me.
Thank you for making BB2G the community what it is today.
Thank you for being here.
————–
If you are feeling desperate, alone or helpless, or know someone who is call 1-800-273-TALK (8255) to talk to a counselor at the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline.
Here is the Band Back Together Suicide Prevention Resource Page
Here is what happens to loved ones left behind from a suicide.
HEATHER @ NOBODY-BUT-YOURSELF says:
January 2, 2011 at 4:04 pm
(((hugs))) I am so sorry for your pain and the loss of your father. I’ve known two people who died by suicide; a cousin and the brother of a close friend, and you are absolutely right – no one wants to talk about it. It is a huge elephant in the room and that is total bullshit. It tore my cousin’s mom up the way she was so…. shunned. So tiptoed around, so avoided. It didn’t make her daughter any less dead, nor did it make her pain, her grief any less real, because of the way her daughter died. Ditto for my friend.
I hope that writing this has helped you. At the very least, please know there are ears (or eyes, in this case) out there who are willing to listen and to talk about it. Once again, (((hugs)))
AUNT BECKY says:
January 2, 2011 at 4:05 pm
I’m so fucking proud of you. This took balls – big fucking AC/DC balls – to write and you did it beautifully. Somewhere, someone will read this and your words will help them.
Thank you. A million times, my sweet friend, thank you.
(and for the record, suicide is TOTAL bullshit. I’m so sorry about your dad. He was a great man and a wonderful father. I can tell by the way you talk about him)
JANA A says:
January 2, 2011 at 4:06 pm
Thank you for sharing your father and your story with us. I am so sorry for all you’ve been through and for all that you lost when your father died. It is time for people to talk. To talk about suicide, mental illness, their demons, their pain… it’s the only way to move forward. It’s the only way to stop the pain of feeling alone in our “things” that haunt us. Much love to you… (((hugs)))
KAREN says:
January 2, 2011 at 4:18 pm
Your kids are so lucky to have you with whom to work through this and to remember your dad.
In my family we favour very slow suicide … in really stupid ways. I was lucky to also have the insight to stop my own, but my mother is working very very dedicatedly on hers right now and the person is so lost in the effort.
The worst of it is, slow or surprising, there is nothing, nothing anyone else can do to stop a person who won’t be stopped. Because god knows, we’ve tried.
Hugs to you and your son. Your dad looks like a beautiful man with a lot of love to spread, but the pain of knowing that you weren’t as important to him as he was, that is excruciating. Trust me. I know.
CYCLENINJA says:
January 2, 2011 at 4:24 pm
GS:
My father died of pneumonia when I was 15. I still miss him daily, and his death wasn’t even his own choice. Your pain and grief make my heart hurt anew for you.
And I respect you immensely for writing this. Someone might read this eloquent agony someday and think twice about attempting suicide, or they might reach out to someone else in pain and make a difference they might not even suspect.
Peace, sister. Your kids have an amazing role model in you.
NICHOLE says:
January 2, 2011 at 4:25 pm
Thank you for telling your story and sharing your wisdom with us.
My father was murdered when I was two and I remember feeling as though he had somehow abandoned me. No one wanted to talk to me about what had happened and many other kids weren’t allowed to play with me because his murder.
If he had taken his own life, I can’t begin to imagine how much more devastating it would have been.
I’m so proud of you for talking about this…for asking us to listen.
You are brave and beautiful.
And you are powerful.
Not only is suicide bullshit, but ostracizing the survivors is complete bullshit.
Beautiful writing, my amazing friend.
I love you!
CRYSTLE says:
January 2, 2011 at 4:27 pm
Your story is so touching. I fear the same fate for my mother, but I’m unsure of what to do.
One would hope that love could fuse whatever misery a family member has, but it just isn’t the case.
Thank you for bringing this to attention, I won’t take my parents for granted today, and I’ll bookmark your story so I won’t take them for granted in the future.
You are my in my thoughts.
Crystle
Norman, OK
REDNECK MOMMY says:
January 2, 2011 at 4:27 pm
I can find no adequate words other than thank you for sharing your father with us and I’m so sorry for your pain.
GRUMBLE GIRL says:
January 2, 2011 at 4:29 pm
Wow, lady. That was beautifully written. And I’m so sad for your loss… but I’m glad you’re doing okay in spite of it all. I hope this reaches “the potentials.” Or even just one…
JILLSMO says:
January 2, 2011 at 4:29 pm
Oh my god. I’m sitting here with tears streaming down my face, for you, and for your children, and for your loss. Thank you so much for writing this. Thank you
ELIZABETH says:
January 2, 2011 at 4:30 pm
I wish that saying “hugs and love to you” didn’t sound so cheesy in my head because I totally mean it. I’m so sorry that your girl never got to meet her grandpa. If nothing else, I wish people would realize how selfish suicide is. How it doesn’t fix anyone’s problems, only creates more. And I know what you’re feeling about if you had let your boy stay home for the day, that maybe it would’ve changed things, but you really can’t ever know that.
I hope your story helps someone. Stops someone. Makes someone think. Thanks for sharing it. Hugs, my dear.
PBPDesigns says:
January 2, 2011 at 4:31 pm
Let me start by saying how very proud I am of you. Mental illness is a tough thing to deal with for EVERYONE involved. My dad was bipolar and if I have half the courage you have I may write about it someday. He died in 2001 and my children (now 15 and 13) don’t remember him much. The way he was then it is probably a blessing. If Aunt Becky will allow me I would like to share that story here sometime. Your story made me cry and i may finally have found the courage to talk/write about it. Love you. Know that we are here for you. (((hugs)))
KATIE says:
January 2, 2011 at 4:32 pm
I am usually a total lurker here…and have yet to muscle up the emotional strength to tell any of my tales, but this? This is so brave.
He was real.
He wasn’t a statistic.
He was your DAD.
And suicide? Total bullshit.
This post is incredibly important. I’ve known three people who ended up committing suicide, and you’re right. no one ever talks about it.
I am so glad you did.
ANGIE [A WHOLE LOT OF NOTHING] says:
January 2, 2011 at 4:32 pm
During the whole first half of your story, I caught myself thinking, “He can’t do it. Please don’t do it. They need you!”
I’m so sorry for you and your family.
angela vincent says:
January 2, 2011 at 4:33 pm
thank you. many of my friends have been affected by suicide. this will help me be a better friend to them . Appreciatively,
Angie
could have been me says:
January 2, 2011 at 4:35 pm
Suicide sucks and thank you for talking about it. Many years ago I considered it. I started searching for ways to do it (how many pills to take how high a building needs to be) and I found personal accounts of those left behind. It made me get mental help. I hope some desperate person stumbles on your beautiful post and reconsiders. xoxo
WALKER KARRAA says:
January 2, 2011 at 4:37 pm
Oh my…my dear. My heart just opened in new ways. Dear one…I am in tears. Thank you for this. I don’t think you have balls, I think you have sisterhood here in this community. (And, teabags and good women don’t match).
My dad tried suicide several times in front of me when I was a little girl. I haven’t thought about it in years. He is still here, and has the chance to make me muffins and see his grandson play ball and won’t drive 90 miles to do it.
I am sorry Dad left you…
CHRYSTAL says:
January 2, 2011 at 4:39 pm
My husband’s good friend committed suicide last week. It was the last thing we ever expected from someone so full of life. I can’t imagine the pain you went through and continue to battle every day.
Erin says:
January 2, 2011 at 4:40 pm
My lord you write beautifully. Your story, memories, emotion for your father are so vivid and poignant.
Thank you for sharing your experience. I’m deeply sorry you had to go through it, in fact tears started streaming as I read. But your truths can change lives, no question.
In the interest of sharing and bringing experiences to light, I have known one person who killed themselves and have attempted suicide twice. That was over 10 years ago but the emotions haunt.
Today I’m happy to agree with you: Suicide is total bullshit
Megan says:
January 2, 2011 at 4:40 pm
Suicide is bullshit. My uncle took his life a few months ago, and I will never forget the moment my dad let me know. Thank you.
Katya says:
January 2, 2011 at 4:42 pm
Thank you for sharing this. I’m too overwhelmed to write much now, but I want you to know that I’m proud of you, proud to know you (even in a small internet-only type way), and in complete awe of your courage.
This needs to be said and shared and heard. Thank you for breaking through that fucking bullshit barrier surrounding suicide, stigma and mental illness.
Someday I will be brave enough to share my experience in this area… in the meantime, I will proudly applaud, cheer, support, rally behind and send massive cyber hugs those who can.
You’re amazing!!!
MFA MAMA says:
January 2, 2011 at 4:44 pm
Your dad rocked. I’m so sorry you and your son lost him; I wish he hadn’t taken his life and I’ll talk to you ANY time about ANYTHING, you know this, yes
DANA says:
January 2, 2011 at 4:46 pm
My husband died by suicide 20 years ago (I was 25). We had been together a year, married for just 3 months. You are so very right. No one talks about it, and nothing is ever the same after it. Thank you, for reminding me that I am not as alone as it would sometimes seem.
CRYSTLE says:
January 2, 2011 at 4:49 pm
My heart goes out to you entirely. I cannot imagine the pain you went through, I hope your life has been without tragedy since.
JULES says:
January 2, 2011 at 4:53 pm
Thank you for finding the courage to share your story. You are an amazing and wonderful person! And just….thanks! Big hugs to you as you continue on your journey of healing!
ALEXANDRA says:
January 2, 2011 at 5:00 pm
This is horrible. Such abandonment.
But, the person doing it, I don’t think, wants to punish anyone, they just want to get out. Stop the pain, stop the hell they’re living in.
That’s what I tell myself.
My father killed himself on Thanksgiving Day when I was 6.
More than 40 years ago, and I still cry about it.
And my children are left without a grandfather, my husband without a father in law.
Tasha @ SnarkoBabble Reply:
January 2nd, 2011 at 5:08 pm
{{hugs}} Empress 🙁
AMY says:
January 2, 2011 at 5:01 pm
I know its late but I am so sorry for your loss. Suicide is most definitely bullshit. I hope that your story can reach those who need it most and save the grief. Thank you for sharing.
TheNextMartha says:
January 2, 2011 at 5:01 pm
A million non touching hugs my friend. Amazing job.
NEIL says:
January 2, 2011 at 5:04 pm
Thank you for sharing that with all of us.
MEL says:
January 2, 2011 at 5:05 pm
Thank you for talking about this. Thank you for talking about your Dad.
You are amazing for sharing your story with such grace.
It’s time to start talking about things that people don’t want to talk about.
You and your family are in my heart. Thank you for being strong enough to share this.
TASHA @ SNARKOBABBLE says:
January 2, 2011 at 5:05 pm
You are so brave. I am so, so, so sorry for your pain and loss. I love you, Squid. {{hugs}}
ALENA says:
January 2, 2011 at 5:08 pm
I am so so sorry. I have lost people to suicide and I agree, it’s bullshit. Maybe they are out of pain, but they just transferred it to those that loved them.
SARAH says:
January 2, 2011 at 5:10 pm
Wow. This is awesome in so many ways. I feel for your pain but am awed by your resolve. You are one strong mama!
DEB says:
January 2, 2011 at 5:11 pm
Wow! just…
wow… this is amazing. and honest.
and now I am crying.
I will be sharing this post.
sending love.
SUSAN says:
January 2, 2011 at 5:15 pm
I’m so sorry. That is so unfair. 🙁
MARVIMARTI says:
January 2, 2011 at 5:16 pm
I simply cannot find the words to express how sorry I am for your loss. Hard as I can only imagine this was to share, I’m thankful you did. Hugs to you!
Pam says:
January 2, 2011 at 5:26 pm
I can’t imagine the pain that you and your family have sufffered. I appreciate your sharing your story and perhaps some people that are thinking about suicide will think harder about those left behind.
Having said that, I have attempted suicide. It’s not something that I talk about but that I think about every day. Suicide is a selfish act but the only way out to a person that is suffering severe depression. I can say that I didn’t think about my family or friends, only that I was agonizing.
Thank you for finding your voice.
Ellachanted says:
January 2, 2011 at 5:28 pm
I’m really sorry you had to deal with this, especially being so pregnant and all. And it was nice that he said goodbye. It also would have been nice if he gave you some warning.
I remember almost every month as a teen thinking about how I could kill myself. The only thing that stopped me was thinking how upset it would make my mother.
It wasn’t until I was in my twenties that I found out about PMS. Now when it hits me I tell myself it’s just stupid hormones and it will be okay next week. Also I’m glad I didn’t want to upset my mother.
And I also realize there are people out there who will never understand this, including half the doctors I’ve been to.
MOMMYGIVESUP says:
January 2, 2011 at 5:40 pm
You are a beautiful and heartbreaking writer. Thank you for your post. My dad killed himself when I was 13, but I wasn’t nearly as touched as you, because we weren’t close.
I’m sorry for your loss.
MARTHA says:
January 2, 2011 at 5:43 pm
Wow. Thank you so much for sharing.
Jessica says:
January 2, 2011 at 5:43 pm
thank you for being brave enough to share this. I am in aww of you.
moonspun says:
January 2, 2011 at 5:46 pm
Wow…thank you for sharing your story. It is poignantly shared and written.
Jess says:
January 2, 2011 at 5:47 pm
Suicide is bullshit. 5 years ago.
Hugs to you.
BIGP’S HEATHER says:
January 2, 2011 at 5:48 pm
THANK YOU!
Nancy P says:
January 2, 2011 at 5:55 pm
My heart goes out to you. Thank you for sharing your story and your father. He sounded like a wonderful man who loved his family very much.
My life changed in 2003 by the suicide of the one person I felt unconditional love from and I don’t know how I would have kept my sanity if not for the support of fellow survivors.
Please know that you are not alone. Sending love and hugs to you.
MORGAN {THE818} says:
January 2, 2011 at 5:55 pm
Wow. Just wow. I got the chills because the last thing your Dad said to you sounds exactly like something my Dad would say to me if he thought I was having a rough time. That made reading this very real for me.
I’m so sorry about your Dad. I’m so glad you chose to share.
MAMAKK922 (KRISTIN) says:
January 2, 2011 at 5:59 pm
BIG HUGS!!! I am SO Sorry for your loss and pain. I lost a cousin to suicide and I saw the loss and devastation his death left in it’s wake. And while I was not touched as closely I was touched. And no matter how low I have been I always remember those left behind. And they should have the same respect and love as those as others. But you are right no one ever wants to speak of it. But TY for sharing, I know this had to be difficult
WALMARTGOURMET says:
January 2, 2011 at 6:04 pm
Thank you, thank you for telling your story.
I am so sorry that you lost your father to such bullshit.
You are an amazing person. xoxo
ANOTHER SUBURBAN MOM says:
January 2, 2011 at 6:17 pm
I am so sorry for your loss, but I applaud your courage in sharing this story. Your dad sounded like an awesome guy and I am sorry that he left you like that.
[Reply]
KRISTIN says:
January 2, 2011 at 6:41 pm
I second what Becky said…sharing this took an amazing set of balls. You have my admiration for the strength you have shown and you have my sympathy and my prayers for the loss of your dad.
Jennifer (@NowSeriouslyKid) says:
January 2, 2011 at 6:49 pm
Thank you for having the courage to tell your story. I can’t even begin to know your pain. Suicide is the most selfish thing anyone can do. I hope that reading this may help someone to find a better way to deal with their problems. Thanks for sharing.
MICHELE says:
January 2, 2011 at 7:20 pm
oh, oh…
i am so so sorry for your loss, for the loss of, what seems, such a wonderful man.
i can’t imagine your pain, but i am crying tears in solidarity with it, with you and your son, and the little girl who never knew him.
you are so brave to write this..this will, i hope, help many others who have had to live thru the suicide of a loved one.
WICKED SHAWN says:
January 2, 2011 at 7:39 pm
I can’t grasp it, never have been able to come to terms with it. Now, your beautifully written recollection of your father reminds me once more why I can’t wrap my mind around it.
The night my uncle said goodbye to me for the last time, when I was just 10, I knew something was not right, wondered if I should tell my mom and dad something was wrong. I didn’t. I will always wonder….what if…..
Thank you so much for being brave and strong enough to tell us of your experience.
[Reply]
AMY PHILLIPS says:
January 2, 2011 at 8:04 pm
I know we haven’t talked much lately, life is busy and we are both trying to single parent. But you’re still one of the most awesome people I know. And this story proves why. I’m glad you wrote it, that your dad is still your dad, and not a statistic, or ‘my dad the one who committed suicide’. Keep talking about it, darling, you’re saving lives every time you do.
MWAH!
MELISSA says:
January 2, 2011 at 8:11 pm
Thank you for sharing this story. Your bravery makes me admire you even more.
Much love and kindness to you. xo
[Reply]
Jeanette says:
January 2, 2011 at 8:11 pm
Thank you for sharing your story. I know first hand how difficult it can be to actually say these words to another person, let alone a group of people, fearing their reaction.
My father also committed suicide. It will be 16 years at the end of January. I was only 18 at the time and it changed everything about who I was and who I thought I would become as I progressed into adulthood. Much like your experience, I found that people were awkward around me after. No one knew what to say, so they didn’t say anything. Some timidly danced around the subject while others disappeared from my life completely. That was just the easier option for them, and in some ways, that was also the easier option for me, so I sat back and let them go. Loss piled on top of epic loss just melded into the same feeling: numbness laced with silent rage. I bottled my feelings for years until eventually, I met someone who wanted to hear my story and encouraged me to tell it, sparing no details. He was the first person who didn’t shy away or make me feel like I was a freak show for having had this experience. It was the first time that I felt like I could connect with another human being again. I will be forever grateful to him for that.
I am truly sorry that you and your son had to go through this. I’m also thankful that you shared your story with us. Keep talking, even when you feel like no one is listening. You never know whose life you could be impacting.
MEREDITH says:
January 2, 2011 at 8:21 pm
oh, goodness, love. what a wonderfully written piece about something so awful. what courage this must have taken to write. i have so much love for you — you can’t possibly know. <3
ELIZABETH ROSS says:
January 2, 2011 at 8:31 pm
How incredibly brave and strong and selfless of you to share this story. Because not only is suicide bullshit, it is selfish. If anyone actually realized how their act would impact the ones they left behind for the rest of their lives, I’d like to think they couldn’t do it.
I’ve been in a place where I have contemplated suicide. Long, long ago. I am so glad I never did.
DISHES IN THE DRYER says:
January 2, 2011 at 8:32 pm
What an awesome and moving post, I am a new follower – found you through Katie Sluiter. Though I have never experienced suicide, I have a family member (my father as well) whom I often worry about.
I will be sticking around.
BECZHANG says:
January 2, 2011 at 8:39 pm
Thanks so much for sharing.
[Reply]
Angelique says:
January 2, 2011 at 8:42 pm
I am so sorry. Suicide and I are intimately acquainted, but I didn’t have to see it. It didn’t happen in my home. I didn’t see my person living one moment and then lifeless an hour later. You are brave and eloquent inspiring. I’m sorry that this has changed you. You are not alone. Thank you for your post.
My 15 year-old brother took his own life almost 4 years ago. I still deal with it every day. My fears, irrational or not, are infinite. For the longest time I would look at my son, and see my brother. I still worry that our depressive tendancies will carry on to the next generation. I have to fight … fight hard … not to completely lose my shit when I see my kids put things around their necks. I wonder constantly whether or not he really “meant” to do it. Did he get scared at the last minute? Did he want to back out, but it was too late? And the guilt … it’s crushing. I don’t know that I could have done a single thing to stop him. His entire, exasperatingly short life seemed to naturally progress to that needless ending, and I doubt I could have prevented it … prolonged it, maybe. But the guilt weighs me down. It’s been almost four years and it gets heavier all the time.
Steffani Rud says:
January 2, 2011 at 8:42 pm
My mom was 14 when her mom committed suicide. I don’t understand how someone can do that, especially when they have so much to live for. My mom’s mom left behind 5 kids and a husband and has missed so much because she wasn’t there. She also missed her grandkids (including me) growing up, our proms, graduations, boyfriends, Christmases. I’m only 20, she’s only going to miss even more. My mom is the strongest person I know, and her mom’s action is a huge part of that. My mom and I are best friends, and I can’t imagine life without her. Thank you for sharing your story.
Thank you a million times.
Steffani
Alesha says:
January 2, 2011 at 8:44 pm
Big hugs to you. I have never experienced loss through suicide, but my mom had considered it many times when I was growing up. She told me that the only reason she didn’t follow through was the fear that me or my brother would be the ones to find her. I hope you find some measure of comfort in sharing your story.
mimzyofcourse says:
January 2, 2011 at 8:45 pm
I am sorry for your loss. I am so sorry to hear this. I feel deeply for you and your babies to have had to deal with this experience.
Suicide is something I’m sure no human can understand. But yes, we have to bring it out and talk about it. Try to prevent others from feeling that is the only way.
My experience:
While staying with my grandmother, my step-uncle was visiting. I woke up one morning and went into the front room where he had been sleeping and there he was, face down in the middle of a pool of his own vomit filled with so many pills. So many pills.
I wish none of us had any of these stories to tell, but we do.
Big hugs and love to you always.
Melissa says:
January 2, 2011 at 8:51 pm
Thank you. Every year about this time of year, those creepy feelings crawl into my head. Thinking, nobody will care, it will be easier on them if I go. If I make it look like an accident then my niece and nephew will be set for life because they are my beneficiaries. And accidental death pays out 3 times more.
Then, my MOM, who knows me better than I know myself, calls me to the point of annoyance. SHE would know. Even if it were an accident. My MOM would know it really wasnt. She lost my first father when I was 4 and my older brother was 5. We watched in horror as he died. Of a stroke, not suicide mind you. My second father is celebrating his 75th birthday tomorrow. We celebrated tonight. My MOM would know. Unacceptable!!
I realize that suicide IS selfish, but I implore people to be more sensitive about it. The person who is feeling that way doesnt think that way. It’s an empty hole. The people that have these feelings are actually feeling as though YOU are better off. Which is total bullshit.
I am so sorry for your loss, my sister in losing their Dad. I am sorry for your younger children for not getting to know his love. YOU made me re-think a different way. Once again. There are people out there that would really hurt if I stopped my pain for good. And mine? It only lasts for a while. And its BULLSHIT!!
[Reply]
Stacy pederson says:
January 2, 2011 at 8:59 pm
All the love in my heart to you. And I have multitudes.
NIPSY says:
January 2, 2011 at 9:11 pm
“Suicide is bullshit”… best line ever to describe it. When I was 18 and pregnant, I walked into my Uncle’s house 5 minutes after he shot himself…When I was pregnant with my 3rd child, my most favorite cousin was killed/suicide and a year to the date his older brother, my other close cousin killed himself because he couldn’t handle it…it took me YEARS to get not over, but around the horribleness of those deaths. I recently found out the 3rd cousin who I wasn’t close to finally took his own life as well. I am angry, I’m furious will all of them. That’s what people don’t understand about suicide.
Not only do we survivors have the guilt of not knowing what went wrong and how we couldn’t see it, but we have the anger. We then feel guilty about being angry, it is a maddening cycle of feelings. Brava for you putting this out there. Maybe just one person will read it and understand suicide is NOT THE WAY.
I don’t know you, but I’m hugging you anyways.
TIFFANY {SITS GIRLS} says:
January 2, 2011 at 9:13 pm
Oh girl.
I have no words.
You have been one of my biggest supports these past 12 days since my mom died.
My heart aches for your loss and that day that changed you at the core.
I hope you know that I, and so many other people in this space adore you and are hear to listen anytime you want to talk.
ALL MY LOVE.
Tiffany
TISTI says:
January 2, 2011 at 9:19 pm
Wow…just…wow.
I’m so sorry.
I do not know the pain of loss due to suicide. I do know the pain of losing my Father. Thank you for writing this and for sharing you dad with us.
MOMMAKISS says:
January 2, 2011 at 9:27 pm
I don’t really know what to say other than this is incredibly brave and I hope you never ever stop talking about it.
Pam says:
January 2, 2011 at 9:38 pm
I once strongly contemplated suicide, but was blessed with one friend who told me that statistically, if a parent commits suicide, that makes their children much more likely to do the same. Because I could not stand the thought of either of my girls doing this, I stopped my selfishness. I now know enough about myself to realize I NEED to stay on my antidepressants. I’ve never lost anyone near me by suicide, but did lose my dad to illness this past year. That pain alone makes your pain unimaginable. I believe your sharing your story will make me better able to know how to talk with others who are left behind as you were. Love your writing so much! Stay strong, and give your kids a hug from Auntie Pam!
TWITCH says:
January 2, 2011 at 9:46 pm
So there are a ton of responses here, so I don’t know if my words can do much more… I am strengthened by your story tho… And this will all sound so awful, and without hearing my whole story it is hard to justify, but I used to wish my father would succeed at his attempts. My father used to hurt himself so often. He has a lot of issues and he would just lose it and go to cutting and stabbing himself. We were having friends over for dinner and I walked in on him in his room with a knife sticking out of his gut. Dead serious. He was breathing, and my mother was in such denial or something that she wouldn’t call for help. We went right on with our company, my mother and I taking turns checking on him. I tell you this, not to demean your story in any way, but to give it praise. I don’t know where we would be if he had actually succeeded. He is getting healthier and happier. My daughter has a grandpa, one of her favorite people in the world. I never really thought much about how it would affect us, just how he wouldn’t be there to hurt us. He was abusive, but only to himself. I don’t think that any of this helps you at all… but your words struck deep in me. Thank you.
JILL @BABYRABIES says:
January 2, 2011 at 11:16 pm
Oh, hon. I am so sorry. I lost my uncle and grandmother to suicide. It devastated my dad, who suffers from depression himself. It absolutely needs to be talked about more. You are amazing for sharing your story. Thank you for your courage.
RACHEL {AT} MOMMY NEEDS A VACATION says:
January 2, 2011 at 11:23 pm
Holy shit!! WOW. This took some major fucking balls to write. Hugs to you…
MEGAN says:
January 2, 2011 at 11:45 pm
Thank you. I get it. Losing my dad to suicide at 11 was the worst thing I’ve ever had to go through by far. I’m so grateful for stories like this. Thanks for reminding people that it is okay to be open able this topic. I do think that it is very important to raise awareness about the causes of suicide. For my dad, it was not only depression, but schizophrenia. His reality was not our reality, so I have come to terms with the fact that I could not have done anything. Again, THANK YOU
KRIS says:
January 2, 2011 at 11:51 pm
You are all kinds of courageous and brave here, lady.
There are a few kinds of pain for which people don’t have the words, and so they speak no words at all. I know that pain very well.
Suicide is one of those kinds of pain.
I know what it is to be broken.
To not feel that anyone will ever love you more than they love themselves.
To feel separate and alone and lonely.
I know that place of no words offered.
Of no support.
Yeah.
I know that.
Much love, lovely you.
Much love.
STEFANIE says:
January 3, 2011 at 12:05 am
In an unusual way, I am at a loss for words. Tears? Plenty. I love you my dear friend.
ANDREA says:
January 3, 2011 at 12:11 am
Aunt Becky is right. I read your words and they did wonders for me and helped me find my voice. You have helped me express things to my mom that will help our relationship more than words can say! I am forever thankful for you and your courage. Suicide IS bullshit! And so is attempted suicide. Total fucking bullshit!
Tim@sogeshirts says:
January 3, 2011 at 1:30 am
You are very brave to write about this. So sorry to hear about your dad. Suicide really sucks and I don’t think people fully think about the people that they leave behind. So sorry for your pain and loss
LORI says:
January 3, 2011 at 1:32 am
Thank you for saying this.
Thank you for telling people that the idea that they are somehow BETTERING those they love by leaving is so very, very desperately, grotesquely wrong.
They can’t feel it, but maybe someone…SOMEONE…will hear it.
lelisa13p says:
January 3, 2011 at 1:46 am
I preface this with an appreciation for the love that you have for your father and for the man that he was on all of the days before what came next.
I am incredibly angry right now. The effing selfish icing on the bullshit cake was to give you the most loving, lovely last memories of wonderful time spent together? BULLSHIT! The last memories were what you found in your home (YOUR HOME!) upon your return. Period.
I am fierce in my response to the magnitude of your loss. I am equally fierce in my belief that the responsible persons are the ones who inflict the outcome on their loved ones and that family & friends & neighbors & the PTA should be there to support those grieving with open wounds, enveloped in clouds of confusion & misplaced guilt. Social stigma regarding mental illness & suicide is damning to every one of us. It punishes the innocent and hurts us all. When we practice compassion we are healing ourselves as well as the intended recipients.
My heart goes out to you and your dear children. I fervently wish that your father had made a different choice that day. I’m filled with gratitude that you made this choice today. You have the courage that he did not.
THE DISGRACE says:
January 3, 2011 at 2:33 am
You’re awesome and your dad was awesome for making you who you are. And I’m loving you all the way up here in Canada (where you totally belong, by the way, I’m still waiting).
We haven’t had a chance to chat much lately (because HELLO, you’re WORKING and TOO BUSY FOR ME), but I’ve actually been thinking about your story and your dad a lot lately.
Why?
Because my ex killed himself in November. And I’m furious at him for putting his parents through this. His brother. His niece. His older daughter. My daughter. MY DAUGHTER. (I just deleted a whole lot of barely-coherent rage.)
But I’ve been thinking about you and your dad because, well, you miss your dad. You loved him and you miss him and you’ll always carry him in your heart. My daughter? Was more upset when her last set of goldfish died. And I think about the legacy your dad left versus the legacy my ex left and I think… if your dad had the luxury of seeing the outcome of those two very different deaths, maybe he would have held on a little longer and found himself a little more strength and let you know he needed help. And it makes me so sad for you that he didn’t have that opportunity and that you didn’t, either.
Feh. I’m not sure I’m making much sense. It’s 3:30 in the morning and this pregnancy insomnia is kicking my ass.
But I love you. Lots. And I’m still waiting for you to get your butt up to Canada
KL says:
January 3, 2011 at 10:10 am
Suicide took my grandpa away from me in high school. I have never really forgiven him, and its been almost 20 years. I’ve tried to remember who he was before, but the violence and selfishness of his final act seem to block everything else out. Suicide is bullshit. I’m glad you found the strength to share your story, and I hope it helps you heal.
TOYWITHME says:
January 3, 2011 at 11:50 am
No one should have to endure the pain, guilt, or questions suicide casts upon those left behind, least of all an amazing woman and friend such as you.
Your courage and strength to share your story speaks volumes at what an extraordinary and very unselfish daughter your father raised. He would be very proud.
KLZ says:
January 3, 2011 at 7:35 pm
The more I blog, the more I realize that suicide and other types of tragedy have touched us all. All. And we are not alone.
Christy says:
January 3, 2011 at 10:05 pm
Thank you so much for sharing your story. I’m so sorry that you’ve felt so isolated and alone. I cannot even begin to imagine the amount of pain you must have felt that day and all the days after. I’m so proud of your courage, strength and resilience.
I’m also glad that you are speaking out about how people have reacted to you and this tragedy. From my personal experience, I think there is a problem with how most people deal with the grieving in general, but I can see how suicide complicates could complicate it even more.
Thank you again for your bravery in telling your story. I pray that you and your son will continue to heal and hold on to the happy memories you have of your Dad.
KATHYKATE says:
January 4, 2011 at 9:49 am
Your dad loved you and yours, without a doubt. He was sick and self-medicated, destroying those left behind. As a sister of someone also suffering, I await the phone call delivering dreaded news. But will stand by my sister and her kids throughout illness and fallout, as we have little hope for treatment. Thanks for sharing. Your light is too bright for my eyes.
KELLEY says:
January 4, 2011 at 1:48 pm
Thank you for sharing this heart-wrenching story. I hope you don’t feel alone anymore. I am devastated for you. The stress of being 32 weeks pregnant and having another child was probably all you could take. And then you had to deal with the grief…grief that continues today. You are amazing for sharing your life with us. I know this post has changed lives.
HAMLET’S MISTRESS says:
January 5, 2011 at 3:28 pm
My grandfather killed himself 35 days ago. I’m still rocked to my core. And yeah, it’s absolute bullshit. Two and a half years ago when my grandmother died, my grandfather promised his son… my dad… that he would never do anything to hurt himself. Ever. When my dad, who lives next door to my pop-pop got to the house after my aunt called him (she lived there with my grandfather) he put his fist through a wall. Twice. My dad is not a violent man. So it’s a struggle. I struggle, my dad struggles, we all struggle. My whole body went numb when you said what happened. A reaction I’d have never had before about someone committing suicide. Unless you’ve been there… unless you’ve lived through it… you don’t understand. Finding out someone committed suicide never made my blood run cold before. It does now. It always will.
So you say bullshit? I say indeed.
HM