Yes, this is my life

The pain of losing your spouse is indescribable. It is harder than any physical pain I've ever had to endure. I've given birth three times. Two of them by csection. I've have all my wisdom teeth pulled. I've had a portion of my ovary removed...all of that combined pales in comparison to the constant ache of his death. When you have a baby the pain is only for a brief time. When the pain ends you're richly rewarded with a whole little person who has your eyes and your husband's nose. When you have surgery, you'll recover and with any luck feel better than before you had the procedure. There is no end game in suicide. The pain is everlasting and you never really "recover". You just invent new and creative ways to apply a bandaid to a severed arm. Eventually that bandaid does slip off and the wound reopens. And it always happens without notice, the most inopportune moments. Time to get creative again. You realize you'll never have your hand back.

Today a mentee asked me how to tell her kids that their father died by suicide. I'm not a doctor or expert by any means so I offered her my person experience in letting my own kids know. It's probably the hardest thing I've ever had to do. To tell my kids their dad is in heaven and to follow that with the fact that he took his own life. I know this is a biggie. It weighs on every surviving parents shoulders and in our hearts. It's a nagging anxiety ridden question in our minds. It keeps us up at night. How do we explain something we as adults don't even fully understand?  I read every book, googled, spoke to my therapist, spoke to other survivors and did as much soul searching as I could before I talked to my two youngest children about their dad. I slept on it, prayed on it and really reached deep to find the best way to approach the topic. My youngest two were six and eight when he died. My eldest was fourteen. He had more life experience and could understand comp

I have written many times about the hurtful, inaccurate, hateful, inappropriate comments people make after your loved one dies by suicide. It happens more than you know. I'm sharing yet another random comment sent by a childhood friend of Mike and I. He's actually the eldest brother of Cayce (I've blogged about her a ton over the year. She is the one who died in a drunk driving accident when I was 16.) The crazy thing about this particular situation is I haven't seen this guy since his sisters funeral in 1995...yes, that's 20 years. Mike hadn't seen him since 1993. That's 22 years. Even after we retired and returned to our home town he didn't go visit. They never spoke. He might as well be a stranger. But looking at his message to me you'd think he and Mike were besties and he had some great grudge against me. We lived 2000 miles apart for the majority of those 20 years. However, as I said we hadn't seen him since MC Hammer was 2 Legit 2 Quit..

I have written many times about the hurtful, inaccurate, hateful, inappropriate comments people make after your loved one dies by suicide. It happens more than you know. I'm sharing yet another random comment sent by a childhood friend of Mike and I. He's actually the eldest brother of Cayce (I've blogged about her a ton over the year. She is the one who died in a drunk driving accident when I was 16.) The crazy thing about this particular situation is I haven't seen this guy since his sisters funeral in 1995...yes, that's 20 years. Mike hadn't seen him since 1993. That's 22 years. Even after we retired and returned to our home town he didn't go visit. They never spoke. He might as well be a stranger. But looking at his message to me you'd think he and Mike were besties and he had some great grudge against me. We lived 2000 miles apart for the majority of those 20 years. However, as I said we hadn't seen him since MC Hammer was 2 Legit 2 Quit..

Do you remember being a first time mom? You have this tiny little person who depends completely on you and you honestly have no clue what you're doing despite reading a boat load of books in preparation. You spend your time checking on them as they sleep instead of...you know, sleeping too. You jump at every noise they make. Are they cold? Are they hungry? Are they sick? You worry constantly. The books say the risk for SIDS is dramatically reduced after age one so for pretty much the whole year you're obsessed with making sure they are still breathing.... ...this anxiety is the closest to how I can describe what it's like parenting emotionally damaged kids in the wake of their fathers suicide. I am constantly questioning if their behavior is age appropriate or a result of their trauma. Kids are resilient. That's what the therapists and books say. But just like having an infant for the first time nothing in books matter...keeping your kid happy and healthy matters. Commo

Being a young widow is a unique and very odd place to be. When you lose a parent, no one expects you to go out and find a replacement. When you lose a child or sibling, no one can ever fill that spot. However...when you lose a spouse at a young age you are expected and encouraged to go out and find love again. It's a double edged sword too. One opinion is you're replacing your spouse "too soon" and you're judged for it. The other opinion is you haven't healed from the loss and you're emotionally stunted...also judge for it. It's unfair because you're judged either way. No other family dynamic is judged so harshly after loss. It's part society and part psychology. When you feel you will be judged you're going to notice the judgment so much more.  I would like to say "fuck them all" and do what feels best for you but I'm going through it too and that advice is so much easier said than done. I wish it were that easy.... I keep ha