#metoo

The #metoo movement has been gaining serious momentum in both mainstream and social media. Women and men ripping the mask off of gender inequality in all levels of society.

But I would argue that #metoo can be more than just about gender equality and sexual harassment in the workplace. It's time to expose the truth of mental health issues at all levels of society.  Mental illness is an equal opportunity employer. It does not discriminate by age, race, gender or socio-economic circumstances.

And why stop at mental health issues? 

#metoo-for the mothers who have stood strong while they bury their children, while they are really shattered inside.

#metoo-for the fathers who carry the weight of the world on their shoulders and don't know how to say it's too much.

#metoo-for the woman who made a choice when she was young and now wonders what life would be like with her child in it.

#metoo-for the women who sit politely and smile at baby showers when inside they are broken by pain of infertility.

#metoo-for the teens who feel lost and confused and don't know where to turn for help.

#metoo-for the mother who desperately wants another baby, but the answer seems to always be "no".

#metoo-for the daughters who are watching their mothers slip away, ravaged by cancer, knowing that there may not be one more Christmas or one more birthday.

#metoo-for the husbands who watch their wives suffer with an illness they cannot cure and watch time march on and know they cannot stop it's inevitable result.

It's time to talk. To share.

Enough hiding behind the mask of  "I'm fine".  One voice can start a revolution. Your voice. My voice.

"I AM NOT FINE". And you don't have to be either.

Blessings,
Meri

It's Time

One and 1/2 years ago, I wrote an open letter to my son on this blog (http://lifewithdeath1.blogspot.com/2015/05/to-my-son-on-your-13th-birthday.html). He had just turned 13 and I prayed fervently that he would heed the lessons his father and I tried to teach him as he grew into a young man and moved forward with his life.

Tonight, those words echo in my heart with a deep, bottomless ache.

You see, on January 2, 2018, my son lost his long and hard fought battle with mental illness. At 5:42 pm that night, my husband found our only son's body in our bathroom with a gunshot wound to the head.

He was gone.

And even knowing that the life had already left his body, my husband still tried to save him.  But, what we have learned in the subsequent days and weeks, is that there was never anything we could have done to stop him from doing the only thing he knew would end his pain.

I am not ashamed that my son took his life. We moved heaven and earth to treat the illness that eventually claimed his life.

I am not ashamed that my son suffered from depression, anxiety, bipolar and possibly schizophrenia. No more so than I would be if he had leukemia or kidney failure or any other disease process that effects the way an organ works.

I still feel guilt sometimes, I am working on that.

I desperately want to take back those 30 minutes between the time I left the house and the time my husband came home to find our son's lifeless body.

There are many things I don't know about this process.  Why now? Why at all? Did we do everything we could have? Is this somehow my fault?

But there is one thing I know for sure-Logan is at home in heaven and is no longer suffering as he did here on earth. I know this with all of my being.

I don't know what my grief journey is going to look like. So far, it still feels very surreal and I keep expecting him to come through the front door.  However, I will be sharing my journey here on my blog, all of the ugly, raw, painful, beautiful, redeeming moments.

There are 2 things that I hope sharing this grief journey will do: 1) Let some other mother/father/family know that they are not alone when they experience this type of catastrophic loss and 2) Reach at least 1 young person to show them that suicide is not a victimless solution, there are other options and mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of.

Blessings,
Meri