A Year of Grief

It’s been a year since my daughter took her life and I stand in this world much different today than I ever have.  I am broken down, defeated, lost and will never be the same again.   I stand here as a mother who has lost a child.  This past year has been full of grief, hope, and as much strength as I can put together to face every day.

The most difficult part of losing my daughter has been watching my youngest daughter struggle through the grief.  Seeing her struggle through her grief and wanting to fix it and take away the pain, makes my broken heart hurt even more.  There is nothing more painful than seeing your children in pain and not being able to take it away.  Her grief is different than mine, I understand the loss but will never fully understand her grief as a sister and best friend.   I can only be here for her and give her comfort, supporting her through her grief to find healing.

I have learned that relying on others and letting others help has been the most challenging for me, and I haven’t quite figured it all out yet.  I have never been good at relying on others, and now when I am grasping to hold onto the hope I have asking or allowing others to be there is challenging.  I know that I have loving, supportive, caring friends and family that want to be there, but I have always been the one to reach out to help others.  I am trying to let that go and let others be there for me…I am trying.  Walking through this grief is something indescribable to most people, and it has a way to make you feel alone in a crowd of people who love and care for you.  

The waves of grief have taken me through so much already and I know that they will keep coming.  In moments that I find myself smiling and enjoying the moment I feel guilty that I’m enjoying things without her.  When I’m overwhelmed with sadness and fall apart I feel disappointed that I’m not being strong enough for my youngest daughter.  When I sit and think about the time we should have had together the three of us, I am angry.  I roll through these emotions and jump from shock, disbelief, depression, hope, acceptance, love, and hurt.  I am often conflicted about my feelings and how to best express and share them. 

There are days I just fight to survive, others I take on with gusto, some I just get through, and some that I am full of strength wearing my tears as armor taking on the world.  I don’t always know what strength I will have each day, and some days what I think I am ready for turns into something much different. 

The pain my daughter’s illness caused her had to be even greater than the pain we are all in without her here.  Her illness was truly debilitating and she fought with everything she had against it.

The reality of grief is that it is different all the time.  It changes day by day, hour by hour and even minute by minute.

I will forever be reaching to my daughter and for the rest of my life not finding her there and that is how I explain my grief.

Friends Through Grief

Friends Through Grief

Though this past year since my daughter took her life, I have found that there are many types of friends, some that should be in my life and some that just need to be just where they have left themselves, out of my life.   My daughter’s battle through depression was a long road that ended in the most terrible way.  I was always her advocate and focused on the help that she needed.  This left little time to be with friends.  Some understood and some did not.

Through her illness there were many times I had to cancel plans, change plans, or make plans at the drop of a hat.  The friends that understood that, understood that my priority was being a Mom and those that didn’t fell away. 

I will likely never be the same person I was before losing my daughter, this loss has changed me in a way I can’t describe. The grief will never go away, and the friends that understand that are the ones that have been carrying our friendship over this last year, because I just couldn’t.  

Friends can bring more pain to your grief or they can support you in your grief and know that just being there is what a friend truly is.  Each type of friend has brought something to my life and taught me things that I needed to see.  Some brought hurt, and many brought love and support.  I am grateful for my friends those that are here and those that have moved on. 

The “I’ll always be here friends…” these are the true friends, the ones that check in when they are thinking of you, the ones that stop by just because.  These are the friends that understand that there aren’t words to make things better, there isn’t really anything I need other than just to be my friend.  Their contact may be a simple message, card, phone call, or even a random drop by the house.  They don’t stop for anything but to let me know they care, the words are not always profound but they mean more than anything else.  These friends are unconditional and stand beside me and just listen, talk about my girl with me and truly listen to what I am saying.   These are the friends that I can count on, the ones that have not only basked in the sun with me in my happiest of times, but are now sitting in the rain with me in my darkest of times….and they brought an umbrella for us to share.

The “See you around friends….” These are the people that were “friends” before anything happened, they were around right away when everyone was watching, but now are gone.  These friends wonder why I haven’t done things for them during my grief.  They don’t really want to know how I am doing, they just want to know why I’m not doing things.  They have made it clear that my grief is a burden to them and that they don’t want to be with me through anything real.   These are the “friends” that just fade away from my life and as much as it hurts, I have to let them.  I will love them and forgive them…..from afar.

The “Chosen as Family Friends…” this is the friend that was there though everything, the one that would check in though the long battle leading up to my daughter’s death.  The one that did so much when my daughter died but I had no idea because I was just in a haze.  Even now they just do things for me because they know I’m terrible at asking for things.  They are the ones I can always count on for anything, even if I don’t know what I really need.

The “Were they ever a friend friends….” These “friends” are the ones that called or messaged to be nosey.  They asked lots of inappropriate questions and said really off key things, like “She’s in a much better place” and “She is spreading her wings and flying now”.  Seriously, my daughter was 17, is there a better place to be than here with her family?  These friends didn’t ever think to check in when the battle was tough with my daughter’s illness, they only came around to be nosey during a crisis.  They are the ones that don’t understand the grief, and I hope they never have to.

The “Friends in Grief friends…..” these are the people I have met since my daughter took her life.  They have surrounded me with love, support, and positivity because they know exactly what I’m going through.  They understand the loss, the grief, and don’t push me to feel or do anything I’m not comfortable with.  They listen and ask questions, they hug and they support me doing new things.  These friends bring a new spin on my future and help me find my new normal.

Through all this grief, losing a friend was never something I would have thought could hurt so much, but it does.  I remain focused on the love, support, and friendship of those that are in my life, new and old. 

My Face Will Leak!

My Face Will Leak!

I will let my face leak whenever and where ever I need. I'm not hiding or running from my grief, I live my life pretty loud and proud, and my grief will be no different. Grief sucks and if I have to hide it, it makes me feel ashamed of it. So I will grieve when I need to.

If you see my face leaking, then know that I needed to cry in that moment.  I’m not afraid of my tears, I’m scared to hold them in. 

While in the grocery store, picking out some oranges the other day, I swear I heard my girl behind me.  I quickly turned around to see that it wasn’t her and this moment brought me a flash of happiness and then a crash of devastation, it wasn’t her.   I know that she has been gone now for almost 9 months and she will never be the voice behind me in the produce section, yet for those fleeting seconds, I hear her voice and hope she is.  In this moment I needed to let my face leak.

We are encouraged to share all the joyful things in our life, why do we have to deal with grief alone?  

Grief is the form love takes when you lose someone so very special.  Having this grief shows we loved so much and so great that the grief hurts this much.

I will no longer apologize for doing what I need to grieve, because what I’m doing is not wrong.  What I need may be different than what you need, but it is not wrong.

First Christmas Without My Girl

First Christmas without my girl.

Christmas has always been a tough time for me, this year is defiantly worse.  My daughter died by suicide in March this year, just days before her 18^th birthday.  So, how do I get through this Christmas?

I haven’t taken the tree out of the box, this is not usual for me as I typically don’t put it up until a few days before Christmas.  Even the thought of putting it up this year is heart wrenching.  How do we celebrate without her?

When someone says “Merry Christmas” to me I smile and wish them the same.  Inside I am screaming at them, “NO IT’S NOT MERRY!”

What is Christmas?  

It is a time of year we all celebrate Christ’s birth and share this joyous time with our family.  So how do I do this this year?  How do I do this without my daughter?

Everyday has been more and more difficult without my daughter.  Just surviving days has been such a battle.  All the world is happy and celebrating such a joyous time. I’m struggling to just get through the day.  I can see the beauty and the joy of the season, I just don’t want to.  I can feel the love and support from the people around us, I just want to hide and curl into a corner. 

The sleigh bells ring – I just cry

The lights are shining brightly – the tears roll down my face

The stockings are hung with care – I struggle to put my smile on

The tree is up in everyone’s homes – I can’t take mine out of the box

Presents are being wrapped with care –  Mine will be in Target bags

Families are traveling far and wide to be together for Christmas – my family will never be all together again

The snow is falling – this was her favorite time of year

First Thanksgiving Without You

The First Thanksgiving Without You

While I sit with my family tomorrow, I will remember what I have to be thankful for.  I am thankful for my beautiful daughters, my supportive family, my true friends, my career, and so much more.  Yet as I prepare to sit with the family tomorrow, there will be a huge hole not just at the table but also in my heart.

This is my first Thanksgiving without my oldest daughter, Brittany.  She ended her life just about 8 months ago now.  Nothing has seemed right since then.  The holidays are no different.

I will drive to be with my family with Butchie, trying to keep it all together because I am so thankful for her.  Watching Butchie go through losing her sister is even more painful than losing her myself.   We will talk about times we shared, and laugh about the road trips we took together. 

Surrounding ourselves with the people who truly care and support us seems like what we should do.  So why is it all that I want to do is cocoon away and cry?  I am so grateful for the life we all shared with Brittany, and just as grateful for the life that I get to continue with Butchie.  I feel terrible for not wanting to grasp onto all the happiness around me, I just am so overwhelmed with this grief.  I want to feel good sharing this precious time with everyone, but my heart is in so much pain. 

I will smile, laugh, joke, and give everything I have to stay in the moment and cherish the time with all the special people I will be with.  Hold back the tears as everyone asks, “How are you?”  Then see that look they give after I say, “Fine” knowing I’m not fine. 

We will gather around the table and give thanks for all we have, I will feel guilty as I think of what I should have….both my girls.  I will wish everyone a very Happy Thanksgiving, pass the potatoes, and maybe even hold the babies. 

On our drive home, I will cry….A LOT!

While we are together, I will hold onto my “strong” face and try to smile and laugh with everyone when all I want to do is fall apart.   

My Wish As A Mother who Lost her child to Suicide

My Wish as a Mother Who Lost her Child to Suicide

My wish is that the battle became real to people.  That they could see this illness for what it truly is, a true affliction that can be as debilitating as physical illnesses.  Mental illness isn’t something anyone can choose or wish away.  It affects the brain like a tumor taking over or an infection spreading.

This illness has so much stigma attached to it people are ashamed to reach for help, and many go undiagnosed and untreated.  The resources for mental health are limited and not accessible to many.

When a tragedy strikes someone we know or love, it makes us all question, why didn’t they say something, why didn’t they ask someone to help them, why didn’t they just do things to make them happy?  We need to look at this differently.  When you are in a battle with your thoughts and perceptions it is not something you can just turn off. 

Instead we need to look at this as what can we do to help.  Where are we as a society to help those fighting these battles?  Where do we stand when someone we know is going through terrible pain? 

If my daughter was battling her disease without hair, tubes coming out of her, or other medical devices helping her with her battle would you look at her disease differently?  Would it be acceptable then?  Would it not be a choice for her then?

Missing Taking Her to College

Missing Taking Her to College

I’m supposed to be getting my daughter ready for college, instead I have to go visit her at the mausoleum. 

I’m not buying new sheets, towels, and fun dorm room things, I’m buying flowers to place in her vase on the niche.

I’m not preparing to only see her on school breaks and holidays, I’m trying to figure out how to live without seeing her until I myself move to heaven.

I walk through the stores seeing everywhere the sales and the signs for back to school and remember how much fun we had last year picking up crayons, markers, cool pens, notebooks, and we stopped to look at some dorm room décor.  I remember getting tears in my eyes knowing that was her last year living at home.  Now I’m trying to wrap my head around the fact that she moved to heaven.

I see her friends all posting about moving into their dorms, leaving home, and getting to start their new chapters in life.  I am so proud and so happy for all of them, but the sadness takes over for the unwritten chapter my girl was supposed to have.

Instead of talking myself into letting her out of my arms at the college dorms she left this world just 4 months ago.  My girl died my suicide, and I didn’t get to have that long lasting hug to say goodbye, that moment to embarrass her while meeting all her new roommates and friends, or the moment of tears as I drove home alone leaving her to start her college journey. 

I’ve had many drives home crying as I left the mausoleum alone, knowing that the next time I will see her is when I move to heaven too.