Suicide – Ten years later

Today is the ten-year anniversary of my mothers suicide.

It’s been a few months since I finished grieving. My grief didn’t come immediately and it didn’t come at once. I shoved it down with so many different things, some you will have read about and some… not yet.

Three years ago, I wrote this.

It’s been 7 years since my mother took her own life. Her suicide was not brave . It was not selfish. It was the only way that she could see to get rid of her pain and demons.

It’s now been 7 years since my sisters and I began to carry around the pain and the demons for her. 7 years that we have analysed our final moments with her and thought of what we have done differently and 7 years of guilt from doing the best we could to move forward with our lives.

Life has still been beautiful in these 7 years, don’t get me wrong. We have experienced love, laughter, friendship, welcomed new family members, met amazing people and even said some sad goodbyes.

That’s life. And I wouldn’t change a second of it.

I don’t mind writing this if it makes at least one depressed or suicidal person think about who will receive these feelings once they are gone. If it makes one person decide that life is worth living.

Instead of grieving, I was asking why.

Instead of grieving, I was carrying her pain. The pain she was attempting to get rid of.

Instead of grieving, I was causing myself more pain and hurt. Subconsciously, of course, but causing it all the same.

Each year, on this groundhog day of mine, I feel like I’ve been transported back into my Nan’s kitchen and told again ‘Mam’s gone’.

This year, I’ve been trying to do it differently. I’ve been trying to focus on what I do have. Yesterday, I wrote a gratitude list and it contained so many wonderful things. I understand what I have in abundance and I could not be more grateful. But, what I am lacking will not go away.

The feelings of abundance and lacking are walking together, hand in hand.

I know that there are questions that I will never have the answers to. I know that I will never be able to ask for advice from my mam- I will never even be able to imagine the advice she would give because she could never have preempted what my life would be like now. I know that I’ve lost many memories of her and will lose many more.

I also know that it is okay that I spend every August 14th feeling like a lost little girl, even when I don’t expect to feel this way.

I know that happiness and sadness can coincide and it doesn’t mean that I am having mental health issues.

I know that this will pass and happiness and light will take over all of the darkness of this day.

I know that her suicide was not because she didn’t love me and my sisters enough. She loved us too much to keep worrying us, scaring us and hurting us and any further reasons were her own.