Archive | August 2014

Suicide, God, Robin Williams.

It’s hard when someone dies by suicide. And when it’s a celebrity it hurts because of the hard and often times hateful things that are said. “You can’t rest in peace if you killed yourself.” “Suicide is the most cowardly, selfish thing anyone could do.” And so on. So many of us are suddenly so self righteous and in a position to judge others motives and state where they are eternally. How did we get that power, that knowledge?

For me personally it’s yet another aspect of learning to live with my sons suicide. The scab ripping off from the little bit of “healing” as the comments and social media frenzy ensues.

It’s hard because I want to defend my son and others who make this dreadful choice.
It’s hard because it’s not fair for us to judge motives or where someone will spend eternity.
Do we believe our sins aren’t as wrong? Aren’t as offensive to our perfect God? And that He judges on a sliding scale? The top 10% get to go to heaven?
On God’s sliding scale do some of these keep us out of heaven while others “aren’t that bad?”

When you overreacted with harsh words.
When you were a toddler and ripped that toy out of your little sisters hands.
When you were jealous of your friend.
When you killed yourself because you were mentally ill.
When you killed yourself even though you weren’t mentally ill.
When you refused to forgive the co-worker who talked about you behind your back.
When you stole that candy bar.
When you said that hateful thing.
When you thought that hateful thing.
When you got that abortion.
When you avoided eye contact with your neighbor because a conversation would’ve disrupted your personal peace.
When you fantasized about your married co-worker.
When you got high.
When you got drunk.
When you gossiped and called it “praying for your struggling friend.”
When you lied to your parents about where you were going.
When you called that stranger “dumb ass” on Facebook in response to their rude comment about Robin Williams death. (Even though it still feels damn good that you said it!)

Or do we become self righteous and judge because we can’t believe in God’s love and mercy that He did ALL the work Himself to give us an eternal relationship with Him? There’s NOTHING for us to do to “earn” our way into heaven except acknowledgeconfess – we are sinful and He came Himself – in the form of a human being – to live perfectly, to die unfairly, and to be resurrected FOR US. He overcame death for us.

Do I believe suicide is wrong? Absolutely. Do I believe all sin is wrong? Absolutely.

James 2:10 “for whoever keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become accountable for all of it.”

Romans 3:23 “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”

Ephesians 2:8,9 “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.”

I don’t know… It’s hard to get my mind around. Why would God love my son enough to die for him? He knew Drey was going to kill himself – it didn’t take God by surprise. He loves Drey that much? He loves me that much? I can’t wrap my finite, judgmental, human mind around it. It takes faith… Not blind wishing, fingers-crossed, “I sure hope it’s true” faith. But genuine biblical faith – something only God can provide.

And so begins year 3…

Today was harder than I was prepared for.
Year 2 in total was not harder for me than year 1 – and I was warned that for some people it is.
But today was harder than last years 8-8.
I guess there’s no need to analyze or dwell on it.
So I cried a lot. So the emotional pain was more sharp. So what? Chill Denise just chill.
Climbing up the stairs to go to bed. Glancing at the pictures of happy times with Drey as I walk down the hallway. I’m so tired.
I can’t help but to wonder if this is as good as it gets. Is my “healing” as complete as it’ll ever be this side of heaven? And now this is my new normal? Do I have the energy to make it through year 3?
Tonight is not the night to think this deeply…
I just miss my boy.
Leave it at that.

So many sacrifices I’m grateful for

So many people have made sacrifices in the spirit of helping me emotionally since Drey died. I wonder if other survivors of a suicide loss have had the same experience. Everyone’s situation is unique…. I have a stepson. My husband is Drey’s stepdad. Just today he got David up at 6:00 a.m. to go to band practice. No – practice isn’t that early. But both Robbie and David know it’s too much for me emotionally to take David to band this “anniversary” week because practice is at the high school. So many memories and triggers. So they don’t even ask me. They just know.

The changes in our movie and tv routines. Perhaps small in others eyes – but are a big deal to me.

The first time the three of us went to the zoo together. I had to stop, sit on a bench, and just sob several times. David had just turned 14 but even then he was able to just sit there until I was ready to start walking again.

The sacrifices my friends and my parents have made are numerous too. I’m not even aware of most of the sacrifices. And knowing that I don’t know makes me feel that much more loved. I hope I could be as giving as my friends and family are and continue to be.

So for now, the 2 year anniversary of my son’s last day of life, I am feeling blessed and grateful. Even if only for the hour.

❤️

2 years ago. The dreaded week is back already.

It’s the dreaded week again already. The first week of August. Honestly time has flown by. The last day I saw my son was August 3rd 2012. The last day I spoke to my son was August 7th 2012. My son, my love, died on August 8th 2012. I can’t get my mind around the fact that it’s been two years. How have I lived? How have I continued to put one foot in front of the other? If I think about it too deeply I feel like puking. It’s my worst nightmare. It’s the rest of my life.
Truly God has given me strength. No one can deny Gods presence in my life, least of all me. How else is it possible that I am alive? That I am – dare I say – a contributing part of society? It is not by my own strength. It is not because “time heals all wounds.” Some “wounds” never heal. Your only child’s suicide is not something you get past or get over. Only God can take such a horrific, broken, fucked up level of pain and teach you dependence, teach you He is still a good and trustworthy God. Teach you that even in – especially in – those dark days of despair He’s holding you. Holding me.
I hate this week. I hate it. I hate that I remember what Drey ate the last time we were together. Our last words. His last text. I hate that I somehow didn’t see my boy was hurting. I hate that I remember the detective’s words. Those fucking words. How hot it was that day, the look on Jeritt’s face, the shape of David’s mouth as Robbie told him, all of it. Mostly I hate that my love was not enough for my baby to choose life. God how I hate this week.
Thank You God for hating this week – this pain – even more than I do. Thank you for sitting with me in the depths of sorrow.

Love him so

Love him so