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
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Defining Moments
Everyone has THAT moment that defines their life. Some people have multiple moments. Sometimes these moments are not welcome, not what we ...
-
In early October 2010, my husband and I were overjoyed to find we were pregnant with our 4th child. We knew that each of our children was a... -
We have never been big on the whole Easter Bunny, egg hunt, fake grass-filled basket phenomenon that occurs around this time each year. Not...
-
Last night my son slit his wrist. Writing those words, seeing them in black and white, takes my breath away. The cut was horizontal, not...
I am so sorry for your pain and anguish. We too lost our son to suicide at the age of 16. That was thirty four years ago, but there are times when it is still fresh in our hearts. I will say that God was truly the God of all comfort during that time and indeed, He still is. My husband and I pushed through it all because we had three daughters who still needed support and love and care. Our responsibilities continued and we had to put their needs in the proper place in our lives. Some days I felt I could hardly function, but function I did....for our girls. Personally, (everyone reacts differently) I had experienced enough of God to realize that I had two choices. He either knew what He was doing or He didn't. Thankfully, at that point, I knew Him well enough to trust that He did all things well. This week our son's twin sister received a diagnosis of breast cancer....again. This time more invasive. It is hard to give thanks "in all things" but I must believe that God is worthy of thanks and doeth all things well. So thank Him we will! I have no other viable options.
ReplyDelete