Content Warning: This post discusses suicide desire and ideation. We believe it is such an important issue to share because of the frequency these feelings/actions happen in child loss and infertility, and it’s not spoken of enough of in our community. If you’re feeling unsafe or considering suicide, please reach out for help: see the bottom of this post or this page for resources. You matter to so many.
May 5th, 2019.
I survived suicide.
Woke up this morning and thought of suicide. Nothing to see here, I’ve been thinking of it for years.
Sometimes the thought lingers as I put my feet on the floor.
But soon, I’m making my morning tea and feeding the dog breakfast, and I ask myself, is it normal to think suicide first thing in the morning?
I was a single mom in 1991 when Jacob passed away. I was 23, and he was 2.
My husband and I were divorced about a year before Jake died and although we grieved together, we were separated in our day to day navigating our new world.
Back then, I thought about suicide all the time: morning, noon, and night.
I was just so tired and too distraught to figure out how.
When my ex-husband passed away in a car accident in 1996 I thought, you lucky #$%^&!
Seemed unfair, really. I wanted to be dead!
I thought: he got off easy!
Seemed about right. He gets to go home and see Jacob, and I’m still here, waiting for my turn.
I thought about suicide. I thought about it so much that it just became a normal thought.
Not normal enough to talk about it. I was afraid my friends and family would have me put away, or they would put me in therapy for weeks, months, years.
If they only knew how much it crossed my mind.
But I survived.
Surviving the death of your child is more challenging than most realize.
Empathy, compassion, and understanding from others fall short on what’s being hidden from folks on the outside.
I spent more time making others feel comfortable in my loss. It was like I had something they didn’t want to catch.
I had to make them comfortable by assuring them they wouldn’t catch it from me.
Funny how that works. Even all these years later. You can almost feel the person’s reaction when they are told you lost a child.
They slowly back away, the thought is too much for them to handle.
Most say: I would die if my child died. I wouldn’t be able to survive!
Great, thanks for reminding me I haven’t died by suicide… more guilt.
Believe me; I thought about suicide before you did. I’m way ahead of you!
And yet, I’m still here. So I must be weak; I must not have loved my son the way you love your child.
If you would succumb to suicide, and I haven’t, that must be the reason.
But, I’m still here. I’m still standing.
I’m still on the brink of a suicide survivor, 28 years later.
It takes more guts to be here still than I even give myself credit for. Grieving is exhausting!
Even on a good day, I’m still sad.
The good and bad do co-exist, together in disharmony.
When my second Son, Dallas, was born four years after the death of Jacob, I thought about suicide a little less.
Of course, until I over thought and panicked about his death!
What if something happened to him?
Well, then it would be easy. I’d succumb to suicide, right away.
I thought this would be the easy way out, and I would never survive the death of my two children!
And yet, I have met parents who have lost more than one child… and they are still standing.
They survived, could I?
Dallas, my Son, is now 25, and I survived the desire to die by suicide. That doesn’t make me weak, and it surely doesn’t make me strong.
It just makes me still here navigating through this life, good days, bad days, days, and nights that seem the same as yesterday and the days before.
I honor my children, both of them. With my love and my life!
Now when I think of suicide, I think about how I survived.
———
After my 32 year old son took his life I wanted to die with him then my three other children gave me 7 grandchildren that I took care of till they started school. I learned that I could not grieve with babies on my lap. I survived a suicide attempt by the grace of god.
Hi Joanne, I’m happy you’re still here. I’m deeply sorry for your daily pain..
I’m only 13 months post losing my son to suicide. He was 19. He was beautiful and amazing. I can sympathize with you so much so it’s scary. But I am fighting… surviving to be a legacy he is proud of and that my other two sons are proud of. Thank you for being strong enough to share. And thank you for making me feel a little more normal in knowing I’m not the only one, I’m not alone in how I feel, and that we can make it.
Hi Jessica,
You are not alone. Ever. I know it sounds crazy to think of suicide…but it’s very normal. You’re not alone. Please stay…we will unite with our children again. I promise, you will.
Samantha
Thank you! A survivor.
I think of it every day. My only child, 19 year old Matthew, died 7 months ago.. From suicide… I couldnt believe it. I am convinced he didnt feel as bad as I feel.. But Im still here. Parents with living children say their other children keep them here. Or their grandchildren. I have none. He stole that from me. So whats keeping me here? Fear that I will cause pain to my family and friends. But i still think about it. Every day. How afraid i am to live… 10, 20, 30 years without him. I dont want to do this. I dont want to be here. I dont want to feel this overwhelming unimaginable pain. Yet Im still here.
Lorrie,
I also lost my only child. Staying here on earth with no children or grandchildren to care for is almost impossible. The realization of never having grandchildren is another devastating loss.
Hugs to you,
Connie
Lorrie… Stay with us. Please. I know it’s so much to handle. Please try to trust the Universe has a plan for your comfort and peace. One day, one breath, one moment at a time. 13 months is a very new life without your Son.. I understand completely. Please reach out to me if you’d like to talk. I’m here for you.
Samantha
Same story, I am 10 months without my 18 year old special needs boy. My only child. My reason for living. I just don’t have a purpose now.
Brenda…stay with us! You are not alone. I’m available to reach if you need someone. All of us on this page are suffering. Please stay. You are loved…
Samantha
Thank you Mary! I’m glad you’re here.