“You look so sad.”
Do you say that because you don’t think I should be sad anymore? Perhaps you’re judging my grief?
Do you say that because you want to let me know you notice, you care? And you just don’t know what else to say?
Yes, I’m sad. The emptiness that’s left where my baby’s ornery laughter used to be will be with me until I’m in heaven. And sometimes the emptiness is on the surface for others to see.
But don’t tell me, “you look so sad.” It just isn’t helpful. I fight every day against thoughts that say no one wants me around because it’s too hard to see me. It’s too heavy to be around me and be reminded of the great loss. To be forced to consider “how would I handle it if it were my child?” I see the looks on peoples faces. And I know who avoids me. I can’t make it ok for you. That’s not my job.
It is my job to fight for gratitude. And when the bad thoughts form in my mind it is my job to tell satan to f-off. It is my job to surround myself with family and friends that recognize I’m in the fight and encourage me.
It’s not your job to say the perfect thing. It isn’t your job to always get it right.
It is my job to learn to forebear.
It is my job to say, “That was hurtful. That was hard to hear.”
Can you handle it?
These things are my job because I want them to be. Not because I have no choice. I have a choice. I choose gratitude over bitterness.
Tag Archive | christian suicide
What’s in a worldview?
I went through the exercise of thinking through and writing out my worldview a few years before Drey died… it was part of a Leadership Core workshop I had taken where we explored what we believed, what our strengths were, and how our beliefs and strengths aligned with how we were actually spending our life. It was a great exercise. Here’s what my worldview was:
I believe God is loving, all knowing, dependable, and consistent. I believe I will go to heaven when I died. Not because of who I am or what I’ve done but because of who He is and what He’s done. I value truth, integrity, and transparency. Being successful externally comes easily for me. I have several gifts, talents, and strengths. I love to organize things, to set up processes, and to plan. I love to set goals and accomplish them. Bringing closure makes me feel fulfilled. Being pleased with myself internally is more challenging and requires deliberate ongoing focus. My tendency is to judge myself and others. I want to have a positive impact on those around me – family, friends, coworkers and ministry partners. I am highly dependable.
After spending the past 14 months grieving the death of my pride and joy here is what I believe about the world, about life:
I believe God is perfect and we can know truth, right from wrong, because of Him.
I believe God is love, all knowing, dependable, and consistent.
I believe God is a perfect judge.
God created us in His image and with free will to choose as we want to choose.
We are sons and daughters of the King if we choose Him, if we choose to acknowledge our inadequacies and need for a perfect savior.
Truly living as sons and daughters of the King must be done in complete dependence on Him. It is an ongoing decision to live in dependence. Not just day by day but minute by minute.
I have a God-given desire for things to be made right.
The ruler of the world we currently live in is Satan – the enemy of God. Therefore nothing works as it was originally designed. Nature, people, relationships, animals, life (death).
The deadliest trick Satan ever plays is convincing us that he does not exist. This keeps us from knowing the real truth and keeps us from loving others with urgency.
We are in the middle of a spiritual war.
God will set things right. Until that time He wants us to fight in the war. We do this by loving others in complete dependence on Him.
When we live apart from dependence on God we do not have the full picture, we do not have accurate knowledge, and we operate out of a sense of need rather than being sacrificially others-focused.
Everyone wakes up every day incapable of any good, Godly, eternal thing apart from the Holy Spirit.
We are born with a need to be known, accepted, significant, and loved.
I believe everyone lives with a “you’re not ____ enough” voice in our minds. This is fear.
I believe when we’re honest with others about our fears we can experience connection, maybe even a little peace.
I believe when we live with integrity, transparency, and honesty, it can cause others to feel safe to be themselves – to be truly known.
God wants to love us through other people and wants to love other people through us.
Most of our days are filled with inconsequential thoughts, worries, and actions. We need God and His work through others to show us what’s important – to keep us focused.
Selflessly loving others (with the knowledge that we are perfectly accepted, known, loved, and significant) is the ultimate humbling buzz. When it happens we know full well it did not come from our own power!
Joy and pain can coexist.
Suffering is an opportunity to strengthen our faith. Whether that faith is in ourselves, God, or something else, is up to us. Suffering is polarizing.
“I don’t know” is powerful. I do not have to have all the answers in order to love someone.
Listening is more important than speaking.
Everyone has a lot to learn.
Why was it important for me to revisit my worldview? Because losing Drey has rocked my world – broken me, shattered me. EVERYTHING has had to be re-visited – especially what I believe about God and life. It’s been helpful in my journey of healing. I’ve dedicated significant mind-time to this which has included writing it out and getting challenging feedback. Writing out my worldview has helped me to truly “own” it. As a result I’ve become more aware of the gaps between what I truly believe vs my actions, choices and thought-life. This is still a work in progress no doubt. But my worldview is deeper and far more real to me now than it was before Drey died.
I am a fighter. I will learn to thrive – not just survive – after this tragedy. It takes time, patience, perseverance. I’m Yours, God.
Gratitude without guilt.
Journal from last year – October 27 2012:
I’m here at Cherry Valley Lodge with Robbie. I had what I think is an anxiety attack this morning. I miss you so, so much. It began with remembering the 2nd grade field trip with Mrs. Morse to High Banks Park. It was in the fall. On the trail we saw the guts of some small animal – maybe a rodent of some sort. Everyone was so fascinated. I enjoyed going on your field trips.
Sometimes I think I’ll die from this pain. How can someone carry this depth of pain day after day, week after week, and now month after month?
Can you see me, baby? Can you hear me? How can I live this life without you? I view everything through you. Memories don’t bring me comfort or joy. They ache. They bring tears. When will that change? Will there come a time when I look back on this journal? What will I feel then? What will I feel when I look back on this Cherry Valley Lodge weekend? Will I wonder how I’ve survived? Will I still be in the same depth of pain? Will God use me somehow? Will I experience peace in knowing God is redeeming this horrible thing and I’m playing a role in it?
Today: I haven’t had a panic attack – or whatever I should call it – in about a month now. I want to be grateful for the decreased frequency in panic attacks. I want to be grateful that I don’t sob every day anymore. But it’s hard to allow myself to feel grateful for God’s slow but tender hands of healing. What kind of Mom am I if I’m feeling grateful for my life? Some have said, “Drey would want you to be happy.” Maybe. But it doesn’t really matter because he’s not here.
I remember last summer a motorcycle driven by a young man came flyin up on my butt when I was driving on 315. I got out of his way and he sped by. “At least I don’t have to worry about that anymore.” Oh My God. I couldn’t believe that was really the thought that popped into my head?! Then I beat myself up in a major way… “Yea – lucky you. Your son’s already dead so you don’t have to worry about him getting in a motorcycle accident. How sick, Denise. What kind of Mom are you? Did you even love him?”
I feel like there’s a war going on inside myself… there’s part of me that feels amazingly blessed and can rattle off so many reasons why I am blessed. I’ll see my son again, I have a wonderful husband, I love my family, I love my friends, I love God more than I ever have, I’m not paralyzed by pain anymore, I can spend time doing what I want to do rather than worrying about bringing home money for our living expenses, I’ve met so many people who are suicide survivors and am grateful for each them. Then there’s part of me that’s disgusted with myself for not being crumbled up in a pile like I was last year. Learning to live with Drey’s death is very hard. It’s taking a long time to integrate this loss into my life, my circumstances, my being.
God tells us to be joyful in all circumstances. To be continuously thankful.
What am I afraid of? Why can’t I let myself be a little joyful and grateful without wanting to just die of shame for feeling that way? Because I’ll forget Drey? Because people will assume I’m “over it” and won’t pray and care for me the way they have been. Because people will think I’m a freak because one day I’ll be joyful and the next I’ll be crying – so it’s best to keep the mood swings to myself. Because people will think I must not have loved Drey – at least not as much as they love their children because they can’t fathom ever smiling again after their child died. Somehow in my little world I’ve assumed everyone is watching me and drawing conclusions about how I’m handling things. Because apparently I’m the most interesting person in the world??
God please help me to live before You and only You. My audience of One. Help me to live just today without concern for how I’ll be feeling or what mood I’ll be in tomorrow. Teach me to direct my thoughts towards others. My needs are met in You. You have shown me that in miraculous ways this past year especially. The fact that I’m still alive is a miracle! I want to overflow with the love You’ve given me. Overflow into the lives of others without regard for myself because You promise to continually love me, delight in me.
Teach me.
Getting closer to fine…
I dropped off David this morning. The small rock is still painted… RIP FDM. It’s been 2 months since your friends painted it. It’s lasted a long time.
I always drop David off in the mornings but this morning was harder than usual. It’s because we hit traffic and were a little late. You and I were always cutting it close to get there in time baby. Remember? Funny what a difference 9 minutes can make with my mood. I don’t want to drop David off at 7:34 or later. I’ve got to avoid that at all costs. Who knew? A drop off at 7:25 and I’m “ok” – as “ok” as I can be as I drive past the rock, the soccer field, the stop sign on the hill where I taught you to drive a standard, your parking spot. But 7:34… The shallow breathing and trembling came back all at once. No thank you.
I don’t always feel like this, Drey. Somehow I’m learning to live with the hard days with a different attitude. They make me more grateful for the lighter days.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t ache.
Today I am one day closer to seeing you again. Today I am one day closer to spending eternity with my perfect Father and lover of my soul. Is it amazing, Drey? Are you smiling? Dancing? Racing?
Dear Lord help me to take my thoughts captive to your obedience. Help me love people with Your love. Teach me every lesson possible through this suffering. My life will count. Drey’s life will count. Did count.
Who am I. God I miss him.
My mind is swirling this morning. It swirls in so many different directions. I don’t understand how I got to where I am. It’s still surreal. When to sit in it, to contemplate it vs when to change my questions, my mindset. Always a balancing act.
I look at your picture taken on graduation day. The picture of you and me. I’m in my heels but you’re still taller than me. You always thought you were so short. But not to me. How did I get here? Why am I left with only memories of you?
This week is intense… Survivors of Suicide Group, GriefShare, speaking at the Helpline annual meeting, a meeting with Rep Anielski about the laws around Rx meds given to minors, then the Memorial Bench dedication at the zoo. All in 4 days time. All important things I want to do. I was in control of the timing for the Wednesday commitments. When I looked at Wednesday it was open so I scheduled them. New Lesson: Part of my “new normal” is learning to look at the entire week’s events before making plans. Learning to consider the emotional strain of the week is important before saying “yes” to something else.
I used to do so many things all at once. Achiever. Accomplisher. I got so much done in a week. I’d run from meeting to meeting, prepare for a home church teaching, hang with friends and attend both soccer games of the week. I wonder what the cost was? The cost in my marriage. The cost in my relationships. Robbie’s told me – and I even remember – making Drey a priority in spite of other things I was responsible for. I didn’t do this perfectly but Drey knew I loved him. And he knew I loved the Lord. I won’t allow the voices in my head to tell me I failed him. Not this morning anyway. I delighted in my boy more than anything else in my life (not that my marriage and my relationship with God shouldn’t have been first…)
Losing Drey has meant digging deep into my identity. Deeper and deeper. At first it was “am I still a mom?” And how do I answer the, “do you have kids” question? Then I realized I hadn’t – and couldn’t – look at myself in the mirror. I would look at my hair, at each eye to put makeup on. But never at my full image. I knew I was losing weight, I knew the dark circles under my eyes were there. But I couldn’t bear to look. It took about 4 months before I actually looked in the mirror at myself in total. And all I saw staring back was Drey’s Mom. I saw the pain of a broken woman who loved her son so dearly that she would’ve given her life for his. It took a few more months before I could begin looking in the mirror without becoming nauseous.
But even now – especially now – this identity thing keeps going deeper… “I am a daughter of the King.” Blah blah blah. To know this intellectually is one thing but to really get to the root belief and meaning of who I am is risky work.
I’ve KNOWN intellectually for a long time that cookies, bra’s and panties (I worked as an Executive at Cheryl’s and at Victoria’s Secret), my ability to do 20 things in a day: attend soccer games, teach the bible, keep my house clean, go on college visits, lead DivorceCare, call a friend, buy that book for a coworker, etc. did not define who I was. But now that those things don’t fill up my time… I sometimes find myself feeling worthless. So the deeper journey into CONSIDERING who I am began on August 8th, 2012. I didn’t know it at the time. I didn’t know much of anything on that day or for several weeks afterwards – everything was foggy. But nonetheless God was and still is at work. He is the ultimate multi-tasker. Not only was He comforting me and carrying me in my grief but he was teaching me about who I was.
Fourteen months later I don’t have a new, magical answer to the “Who am I” question. I am a daughter of the King. I have been since 1987 when I realized I wasn’t perfect and needed a Savior – and that Savior was Jesus. What’s different now is that the journey to CONSIDERING myself a daughter – chewing on, meditating on, ruminating on – that I am a daughter of the King became real on August 8th, 2012. My supposed ability to attend soccer games, clean my house, and teach the bible, were stripped from me. I could not breathe without God. My journey into CONSIDERING my true identity began when I realized apart from my King I was but dust.
Suicide, guilt and God
Did I contribute to my baby’s suicide? On the one hand I think of course I did. I was Mom. I was responsible for him. God was counting on me to raise an emotionally healthy boy. Somewhere along the way I failed. How can a parent – any parent – not feel responsible? I worked too much. I didn’t make Drey stay involved in church when he hit high school. I didn’t act with urgency when I knew he was drinking. He grew up in two homes instead of one because of my selfishness. I didn’t pray enough. I didn’t create a home where he wanted to bring his friends over in the high school years. I didn’t drive to his Dad’s house that morning. I did too much for him. If he would’ve had to work harder for the things in his life he would’ve had more of a sense of accomplishment.
What do I do with this knowledge? How do I sort through true guilt from the false guilt?
David had a bad day last Friday. He came home and I listened as Robbie told me about their conversation. I listened as my husband parented his son and I struggled to recall a time I was there for Drey at the end of a bad day. How many times did I fail? The weight of it is too much to carry. This guilt has become a frequent companion. I know these thoughts are not from God. But taking my thoughts captive is very challenging sometimes. As I’m driven repeatedly to my knees I’m learning to love my God more than ever. A depth of love I never could have experienced apart from this depth of suffering. He lifts the weight of this load in indescribable ways. Ways I experience yet cannot comprehend or articulate. I go to Him in the depths of despair and sometimes within minutes I am praising Him for hundreds of reasons all at once.
What do I do with this knowledge? How do I sort through true guilt from the false guilt? I take it to God. The One who never tires of my tears, my pain, my need for reassurance. The One who can point me perfectly in the right direction. The One who delights in my dependence on Him. The One my son can now see. God please tell Drey I love him. I love him so.
The balancing act of the mind after a suicide
When dealing with a difficult, challenging situation I like to have as much information as possible.
However that’s not how I’ve handled my baby’s death. There are plenty of details available. But some of them are locked away – in someone else’s mind, in an envelope, in Drey’s iPhone sitting safely on his dresser.
It’s humbling to know others know more around my baby’s frame of mind, his actions, in those final hours. As his Mom it’s my job to be the most informed, isn’t it? My ex-husband, my husband, the police. Some friends too. They all know things I don’t know. Have I failed you by not learning every single thing I could, baby? But but but but…
But sometimes guarding my heart is more important than gathering more details.
But Philippians 4:8 says “And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise.”
But I AM the most informed about his life. His LIFE.
But I am informed about where he is now.
God, help me to rest in what I know.
Last years journal: Sept 8
Last year: Well, it’s been a month. I don’t know what words to use to explain how I feel. Exhausted. I don’t want it to be real. I want to be with you. God help me to grieve your way. Help me to depend on you, I can’t always set my mind on the things above. I never can. God even this pen I’m trying to write with feels too heavy. I have nothing. Nothing but tears. God I pray for Mom & Gene’s protection as they drive on vacation. I thank you that my Mom has accepted the gift of Your son. Everything is so foggy in my head.
Today: Well, it’s been 13 months and 1 day. I still don’t know what words to use to explain how I feel. Confused I suppose. I still don’t want it to be real. And I still want to be with you, Drey. I look at pictures of your smiling face – what a great smile! It warms my heart to see that smile but at the same time it breaks me. Bethaney posted some pics I’d never seen of you on FB. You were so loved. You had so many friends. I will never understand why you did this. I don’t ask the “why” question as often as I did but it still lingers.
We have a new dog… his name is Duke. You would’ve liked him. He’s a cuddler. David’s birthday is today. He’s 15. You’re missing everything.
I’m attending a 2-day conference this week. It’s about suicide and engaging the bereaved. The speakers and topics look really interesting. This conference is a far cry from the retail and business conferences I’ve attended in the past. Life sure is different now. Family Needs Following a Suicide of a Teenager, Impact of Language on Survivors of Loss, Carrying the Grief of Suicide: Reaching out to Survivors Across the Lifespan. State Representative Marlene Anielski will be there – I’m looking forward to meeting her. She just championed the passage of the Jason Flatt Act here in Ohio… now educators, guidance counselors, etc. are required to get Suicide Prevention training. It’s the law. I want to understand who’s responsible for implementing that training. Is it just at the high school level? What about private and charter schools – are they required as well? What’s supposed to be included in the training? And I want to hear their plan for making it happen with deliverable dates. I can hear you teasing me, Drey… “Mom’s kicked into work mode again.” Yea – I hear myself, too. Perhaps I’m trying to take responsibility for something that isn’t mine to take. But I want to know what the implementation plan is for good and right reasons.
I ask God a lot what I could be doing. What would glorify Him. We moved to Franklinton to invest in an impoverished community. We wanted people to know about His love. Then you died. Now I think about the suicide community and who’s at risk. Generally it’s not people in Franklinton. It’s the middle-class – especially middle-aged men, it’s the military, it’s those who have been directly impacted by a suicide loss, it’s the glbt community, it’s teens. My heart goes out to those who have lost someone – so my focus has been on the bereaved. But as I engage more in the suicide community I’m drawn to prevention opportunities, too, specifically with teenagers and young adults. What does any of this suicide stuff have to do with Franklinton? I try to tell myself just because we live here doesn’t mean our ministry has to be here. But that was our plan… wasn’t it Yours, God? We prayed A LOT. We got input A LOT. So we moved. But then life happened in a major way. Now what? I guess because I may be drawn to a different ministry that doesn’t mean we have to move back to the suburbs. I can be such a black and white thinker – I wish I were more comfortable in the gray area. There are so many creative, out of the box things You may be doing. God help me to have a mindset of confident expectation of what is next! I know You’ve prepared good works for me.
And then there’s this business of a job… again – my black and white thinking kicks in. I’ve got it in my head that I must figure out what ministry looks like go forward before I decide what career to move towards. If I land in a ministry that takes up a big part of my time it’ll impact the # of hours I put towards my career. Can my ministry and career be one in the same? I don’t know if I could fill a role in the suicide community as my job. That feels like it’d be a lot – maybe too heavy for me emotionally. Will I care in a year as much as I do today about the suicide community? What’s just a phase vs. a true change in direction?
A day at a time. You are good, God. You know how dense and stubborn I can be. You also know I love You. Help me to rest in Your timing and help me to trust I will hear You. I praise You that I’m able to take this time and rest. I praise You for Robbie’s job. You have provided for us in so many ways. God thank You for bringing Mom & Gene home safely from last years September vacation. God help me to be grateful rather than only asking for more, more, more. Your timing, Lord.
Last Years journal: Sept 4 and 6
Photo collage 2 – Drey’s Memorial
Photo collage 1 – Drey’s Memorial
Reading last years journaling… it had been just 4 weeks since Drey’s death. My writing was all over the place. I was in physical pain, I was consumed with guilt, I was irritated, and I was aware of God’s presence. I kept a list of when I took medicine because I was always losing track. Excedrin, ibuprofen and a few Rx meds were my constant companions. I could feel the pain deep down into my bones. I didn’t know how to make the ache stop. I thought I was going to die.
I prayed to the Holy Spirit a lot – not just to God. Hold me, comfort me, speak to me. Please. I know You are here with me. Please help me. Please hold me. Please tell me I’m going to be okay. Please tell me I’ll wake up soon. Please tell me it’s not real. Please no it can’t be. Please take me to heaven now. Please – I can’t live like this. I can’t.
In hindsight I can see where people were with me often. I suppose they talked about me being suicidal and wanted to make sure I was safe. I didn’t know it at the time. I was in a fog. I vacillated between pulling weeds and sobbing uncontrollably. I had no concept of time. I would sit for hours in silence without even realizing so much time had passed. I remember doing the photo boards for Drey’s memorial service. I cut every picture exactly how I wanted it. I placed each one carefully on the board with just the right amount of 2-sided foam tape. I spent hours on them. I didn’t want help – I was disgusted by the idea. This was my baby. This was my job now. I remember one of the first times Robbie made me laugh… he looked at me and said, “you know honey you’re not going to get a grade on your photo boards.” Creating these boards with just the right pictures in just the right location was the most important thing in the world to me for those few days before his memorial service.
I remember experiencing God’s presence, His peace, even in the midst of the pain. My journal captured some of it through my gratefulness… “Thank You, God, for all Your blessings. I am able to be grateful in spite of these circumstances. I know Your Spirit is at work in me. I am humbled beyond words that You love me. I am awestruck at just how big, capable and omniscient You are!” Who has those feelings and can write about them less than a month after their baby was found dead? No mother is capable. Surely it was God at work in me. I was dead to myself. I had nothing to give. On my own I was barely capable of a single cohesive thought. Truly God was carrying me.
Maybe it’s not wise for me to go back and look at my journaling from last year. It’s hard. I have expectations on myself that since it’s been a year I should be able to look at a video of Drey, look at pictures of him that have been stored away, look at cards people sent last year. But I haven’t been able to do any of those things. And maybe the journal is a bit much, too.
Last years journal: Aug 30 and Sep 1.
I began journaling just 22 days after Drey died. Some days I didn’t have much to write at all – other days I couldn’t write enough. Writing engages a different part of my brain. It forces me to think more deeply and more deliberately. As I look at what I wrote last year there are some things I just can’t share. I had planned to take everything from my journal and put it into this blog. But some of it’s just too personal, too sacred. The groaning was truly too deep for words.
Despair, anguish, heart wrenching, sickening, ache, gagging, heavy, dark, lonely, fear, all consuming, no escape and suffocating. These were the words I attempted to use to describe how I was feeling. But those words sound shallow and superficial. The pain was acute. Eating, moving and even breathing were no longer things that came naturally to me… they were a deliberate choice. I didn’t think I would live. I was sure I would die of a broken heart. I praise God for bringing me to where I am today – a year later.
This Saturday Delaware and Morrow counties are hosting their 3rd annual suicide prevention and awareness walk. One of my new friends who also lost her son to suicide (it’s amazing how we find each other) will be speaking at the event and she’s asked me to join her and to speak as well. The topic will be personal sharing and a message on hope. Kim has an amazing personal story to share about this journey. It will be hard not to cry. I’m sure she wants to honor Nick the same way I want to honor Drey. We want our boys to be proud of us.
I’m not certain of what I want to say yet. I do know that in the midst of this pain I have hope. True hope. Not just wishy washy fingers crossed hope. According to the Greek and Hebrew translation & it’s biblical usage the word “hope” is an indication of certainty. A “strong and confident expectation.” What I’ve come to learn through personal experience is that hope is not a feeling. Hope is a choice. I didn’t feel hope in the weeks or even months that followed Drey’s death. But I knew this wasn’t the end of Drey’s story. And I knew God was still at work. He did not cause this tragedy but it did not catch Him by surprise. I had to choose to believe what I knew intellectually to be true. My feelings needed to take their rightful place no matter how loud they were screaming. My feelings were not the truth. Sometimes God gave me feelings of calm and peace in the midst of the shock and despair. Wow – that was amazing. Sometimes He still does that. Sometimes the feelings aren’t there. But the absence of feeling hope does not make biblical truth – biblical hope – any less real.
In addition to learning that hope is not a feeling but a choice – I’ve also learned it is an ACTIVE choice. A mindset that is accompanied with ACTIONS of hope. Being part of other people’s lives especially when they’re hurting, being part of a suicide prevention fundraising Walk team, crying out to God in spite of my uncertainty. These are actions of hope. Actions of confident expectation that the Lord is at work in spite of what I don’t see or feel.
Psalm 31:24. “Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the Lord.” The verse becomes even more REAL for me when I say it this way, “Be strong and take heart, all you whose certainty is in the Lord.” or “Be strong and take heart, all you who have strong and confident expectation in the Lord.” This hope is mine! God says so! Yes!
A Friend on the Walk 