Why I Speak About Suicide

There are always people that ask me when I speak about losing my daughter to suicide, “How can you do it?”  It is simple to me, I have a big voice and little fear of crowds, so I can do a small part to help spread hope to those affected by suicide.

In the two years since we lost my daughter, I have spoke several times.  Some telling our story, others sharing education and prevention to schools and communities.  There hasn’t been one time that I wasn’t nervous, because I want to be sure I am conveying all the hope I have to share with this world.  The hope I have is for others to understand that suicide and mental health needs to be treated just as physical health is. 

We as a community and a culture need to do better, we need to invest in more research, more advocacy, more education just as we have with other medical conditions.  Through the years we have all witnessed other medical conditions gaining the research and education and have seen huge strides in survival from those conditions.

While I stand before a crowd to talk about our story, I know much of our story is not unique, there are so many families that are experiencing the pain mine is.  This makes it even more important to continue to share.  Those families all need to know they are not alone, and that there is hope. 

As with any disease, we can’t save everyone, but we can do better!  This is why I choose to volunteer with the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP).  The funds we raise in our communities help to fund research, advocacy, education, and survivor support.  Working with AFSP, I feel like in some small way I can help others and be a part of the changes that need to happen in our world. 

So, simply put I stand before people to talk about suicide because hope guides us through many paths in life and shows us the way.  Being the “Purple Ninja Mom” is something I have and always will be proud of.  My daughter’s battle with depression was long, she fought it hard every day, and we did right beside her.  When her battle ended, her hope didn’t.  I will carry on her hope and her mission to help anyone battling this disease with the hope in my heart that other families won’t have to fight this battle in silence.

Live life to the fullest and always “Fight Like a Ninja”!

Two years have now passed since my daughter took her life.  I stand still in the world changed, broken down, lost, scared, and far from who I was before.

I still have days that cut right through my heart and bring me to my knees with grief.  I hope I always will, as that grief is that place in my heart that she holds.  However, now I can look back on days and remember her life and the beauty that she brought into this world. 

The enjoyable days I have grown to appreciate.  Butchie makes me laugh and makes me so proud of the things she is accomplishing.  How I wish Brittany was still here to share in all of her successes and see the lovely young woman she is becoming before my eyes.  It is still so hard to see her struggle with her grief and missing her sister. She is so damn strong, probably stronger than she ever should have to be.

There have been days I have wished over and over to join my daughter, not wanting to die but wanting nothing more than to be with her.  The dark days have me wishing for anything that would end this pain of the life sentence without my daughter.

I’ve spent the time in grief wondering what I did wrong, what didn’t I do, and how I failed her.  There is something in my heart that makes me doubt so much although, my head keeps telling me that I did everything possible just as every parent questions choices we have to make.  Her illness created a battle inside of her that I can only imagine had to be far worse than this.

This world without her has changed me, everyday I try to hold on to hope.  Some days it seems to be a fine thread that is very frayed, and others a thick rope to carry me across rough paths.   All these tears I shed are making the armor I wear to take on the world stronger, but some days I wonder if I am just hiding behind it too.

I stand in this world a warrior, a very broken-hearted warrior with an armor of tears forging through the battle of living the rest of my life without my daughter.

MY GIRL LIVED!

When my daughter died by suicide in March of 2016, I never imagined that the colors would come back to life again, that I would never see or feel joy again, and that I would never be able to remember her without totally breaking down and crying.  I received a message from someone at my church after mass one day, she too had lost a child, she offered a statement that I didn’t realize would impact me so much at the time.  She told me, “There will come a day that you will remember your daughter LIVED and not just that she died.”  I thought to myself, this is not possible, I will always remember that my daughter died!

As I approach the 2^nd anniversary of my daughter’s passing, I can say that this wonderfully kind woman is right.  Not only can I see the colors of the world again, I can feel joy, and I do remember that my girl LIVED and not just that she is gone. 

So to this lovely woman from church, you were right…..and I thank you so much for giving me that sliver of HOPE, even when I couldn’t see it.