More Than a Survivor: My Mission to Thrive, Not Survive

I had another blog written and was going to publish it after returning from my parent’s house on Monday. But there was a change in plans. My mother quickly opened the door and said,” Hurry, we’re watching a video of Steve’s graduation!” I suddenly had butterflies in my stomach as though I were going to meet an old Love. Although I’ve been able to properly grieve over the years, I haven’t seen or heard him speak since he passed.

Needless to say, I was excited. But with this excitement, there was a touch of nervousness. I was unsure of what I would see, or hear, and what I would feel. I watched him stand up and give a speech, thanking everyone who’d helped him throughout his high school career. I held onto his voice, that voice that I hadn’t heard in years and have forgotten. I saw timidity in his eyes, anxiousness in his hands, and I felt the tenderness of his heart. I saw a beautiful soul in an extremely messed up world.

As I listened to his friends speak before and after him, I thought about the roles that they’d played in his life. I wondered if any of them were able to hear him crying inside? Individuals that he hung out with and gave most of his time to; did they really see him? Did he allow them to see him?

Several questions arose in my mind; “Was he ever okay? Did a certain incident push him over the edge? Did this mental disorder rule his mind to where he felt this was the only way to escape it? Was life just too much?”

His voice brought back a lot of hurt, but it also prompted more healing. After his death I struggled with survivor’s guilt. Since I battled depression, I felt like that could’ve easily been me. I didn’t understand why God was so gracious to me. Why He showed me mercy and placed His healing hands around my shattered mind and began to piece it back together. Why did He do it for me and not my brother? I continued to ask myself this, but as I watched him the other day, I felt peace.

I was able to accept that there was turmoil going on inside of my brother that I may never understand. Each person’s journey and battle is different. I don’t believe in the concept of “placing myself in someone else’s shoes” because they may not wear the same size as me. Therefore, the feeling of every step is going to vary between the two of us.

There were times in my life that I could definitely understand why he wouldn’t want to be a part of this world anymore, but I don’t know what demons he faced. I can’t place myself in his shoes (believe me, I’ve tried), but I can choose to walk a different path than he did. I can choose to live and THRIVE, rather than just get by and survive.

Of course circumstances can hinder my success in life, or what society views as success. But I can focus on what it looks like to mentally and emotionally thrive, despite my circumstances. As I mentioned in a previous blog, ask yourself “What do I need in my life to feel healthy?” Some may need to change the people they surround themselves with. Others may seek counseling, take medication, or fight to turn their battle over to God.

I choose to be transparent. I am transparent with whomever is willing to truly listen and with God. This transparency holds me accountable to sharing my joys and my demons. So that someone knows where I am (mentally) at all times. For it is in isolation that I retreat into my mind and revert back to “survival mode” where nobody cares about me and life is daunting.

And sometimes nobody catches it. Nobody sees the warning signs, but God does. My transparency with Him through prayer (simply talking to Him) throughout the day allows Him to see me in the darkest valley.

Some may be fighting a different monster, such as a chemical imbalance or mood disorder (like my brother). The thought of thriving may seem ridiculous because surviving to the next day is your only hope. In these circumstances I beg you to reach out to someone and be vulnerable. Allow them to see your scars and walk with you. You are not alone and you are loved.

Although my brother did not make it past 22 years of age, he still reminds me that I have a purpose and that I deserve to thrive. That is now my mission, what I am fighting for each day. And when I can’t do it for myself, I think of my family… my kids. I think of my brother, and I do it for them. I CHOOSE TO THRIVE!!!

I pray you’re resting peacefully Steve.

 

 

Finding Hope After Suicide; A Sibling’s Battle Through Depression

When the cops came to our house to inform my parents of what my brother had done, I stood in the background as though I were having an “out of body experience.” I knew what had happened before they said anything to my parents.

For the next few years I looked at life through a glass window.  Everything felt far away and nothing was in my control. No body could hear, see, or touch me; not the real me. I walked through life wondering if I were the only one who felt this way. Was I the only person who felt like an outsider everywhere I went?

I was constantly surrounded by friends and family, yet always alone.  This mindset of feeling far away and alone in the midst of having others around is something that continues to creep in to this day, if I allow it.

I’ve always seemed to be missing something, like there was a deep hole that could not be filled.  My life turned into this search for something big enough, that would last long enough, and feel good enough to patch that hole. That journey was accompanied by so much turmoil and sadness, at times, that my mind would shut down.

I tried to find joy and peace of mind through intimate relationships, friendships, sports and exercising, and food. I’d take anti depressants until I felt like I was “up” enough to manage life on my own but would eventually circle back to them.  Finally, I found solace in marijuana, pills, and alcohol… but that’s a story for another day.

Every disappointment or heartbreak that occurred after my brother committed suicide simply added to a stock pile of events that would soon overflow and turn into an overwhelming depression. If I’d allow it, my mind would begin to function in “overload mode”. I couldn’t mentally dig myself out from underneath the pile,  so I’d begin to rest in the idea that this daunting progression of life is hopeless.

This resulted in a desire to be nowhere, to not exist. I began to think that life was disposable. I believed that whenever I was done with it… I could end this tsunami. Rarely did I consider the lives around me that I might affect if I were to take my own. Every now and then I’d think,

“Man, I would hate for my mom to mourn over another child. I would hate for her to think this is her fault, that she’s a bad mom or that I resented her.”

My concern for her well being kept me going at times. And when the depression was so heavy that I couldn’t see anyone else, I’d dig myself into a mental ditch, waiting for someone to come for me.

The bottom of the ditch:

The bottom of my ditch was dark and cold with no exit in sight. Although I could not see anyone but myself, I heard voices and knew that I was not alone. The voices of my demons. They told me that I was unlovable, incapable of loving others, too smart, too dumb, mentally unstable, and less than everyone else around me . I was told to drink if I wanted to escape the pain. The only problem with this strategy, I’d have to keep drinking if I wanted to stay numb. When I worked up the strength to fight back I’d command them to leave me alone. And when the voices finally became too much, I literally dropped to my knees and cried out to God. “Where are you!?” “Help me, please help me!”…. And he did.

I’ll Find You

He’d always seem to make it down to the bottom of the ditch and find me. When I believed that I was stuck with no way out other than taking my own life , He came. He didn’t ask me to fix or clean myself up before grabbing his hand, he just said “I love you.” This God was different than the one I’d formerly heard of. He wasn’t cold and angry, ready to condemn me. He didn’t blame me for my brother’s death or tell me that I was wrong for battling depression. He embraced my filth and his power covered the weakness of my mind. For the first time, I’d felt peace, genuine joy, love, and HOPE. I could fathom a future and believed that I had a purpose in this life.

Please don’t get me wrong, I am not pushing religion or church. Although I believe that these things are good and helpful, my survival comes from placing my mind in the hands of God.

This process will look different for each person as we all know and communicate with God a little differently. Most mornings I have to choose how I will direct my thoughts for the day. What do I need in order to feel healthy today? Am I condemning myself and lacking grace? Do I feel unloved or unwanted? If so, I’ll read my devotional “Jesus Calling” along with a daily reading from a book that I received through a 12 step program. Afterwards I pray, which consists of me simply talking, sometimes crying out, to God asking for strength, guidance, and peace of mind. Some days I put on positive music and sing or dance with my 2 year old daughter. Other days I reach out to a friend to see how they’re doing and share how I’m feeling if I’m not in a good mental space. This helps me get outside of myself and help someone else. These are just a few things that help me turn my mind over to God.

After all, my hope lies in the fact that I am fully known by Him and STILL fully loved.  I could go on and on about all of the self help techniques and coping strategies that I’ve learned from counseling, but none of those ideas are able to help me when I’m at the bottom of the ditch, unable to hear anything but my demons. I can only feel and remember what He said the last time I was in the ditch… “hold on a little longer, I’ll find you.”

For those who are unfamiliar with the idea of God, the concept of reaching for someone who isn’t physically in front of you can feel exhausting to the point of hopelessness. All I can say is FIGHT! If you want to live the life that you were designed to live, you must fight! Fight the feelings of loneliness and tell yourself that you’re loved and cared for. Fight the negative thoughts by choosing to find a little happiness and gratitude in every situation. And fight to know the God who desperately wants to know you, the whole you.

 

Intro: You’re Not Alone

The Forgotten Mourners

“Those who lose a sibling to suicide at any age can experience anger, complicated grief reactions, depression, post-traumatic stress disorder and thoughts of taking their own life. According to several studies of survivors, those who lose a sibling to suicide, especially one of the same sex or close in age, have more serious mood disorders and thoughts of suicide themselves than survivors who lose a sibling for any other reason.”(NPR, August 2017)

We are called “the forgotten mourners” because our pain and grief is often put on the back burner. We are told to be strong and support our parents while they mourn, as if we can postpone our mourning to a later date. I was almost 12 years old when my older brother committed suicide and that day is forever engraved in my mind. I immediately jumped into survival mode as my young brain began to process what just happened. My parents processed their grief in private so I was left to do the same. I’d lay in bed and replay every moment that led up to the event. Then I’d tally up all of the incidents that we’d missed as warning signs and obsess over the ones that I considered my fault. I’d often stare at a wall in shock, no tears, just unbelief. I felt my mind shutting down, my heart freezing over, and my soul becoming numb. Little did I know that I’d battle this grief for years to come.

Over 15 years later, I consider it a daily battle to properly grieve and cope. Therefore, I write not only to the individual who is lost, and angry, and missing their sibling because they’ve taken their own life. I’m speaking to the individual who regularly thinks about what life would be like if they no longer existed. There can be so much pain, embarrassment, and guilt around the subject of suicide and depression. I have been on both sides and I am here to say, “YOU ARE NOT ALONE.” I want to help you push through the darkness and live the life that you were meant to live. There is light, and life, and hope if you are willing to fight for it. And to my fellow siblings of suicide, you’ve lost one of the deepest relationships you’ll ever know. Allow yourself to mourn deeply and don’t do it alone. You are not forgotten. You are loved and seen. Fight with me as I share my story of continuous, daily hope through some of life’s valleys; such as depression, addiction, relationships, and grief.