“Surely Your goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.”
I don’t know how to reconcile Drey’s death with this bible passage, God. Sometimes I am at peace with You. I trust You and I FEEL Your peace. But sometimes I don’t. I have my head knowledge about You and Your goodness. But it’s one thing to KNOW a thing. It’s a whole ‘nother thing to experience it, to FEEL it. And I ain’t feelin it.
I don’t understand. I don’t understand how I got here. I don’t understand how life keeps going. I look at Facebook and see what my friends are up to. So many family pictures and joy. Why me, God? Why can’t I still have my boy?
I’m enjoying quite the pity party this morning. I imagine people reading this (assuming I even post it) and thinking it’s been nearly a year… she should be further along in her healing. I can hear the well-intentioned comments that come across as shallow platitudes when I’m in a mood like this one… “you should be grateful for the 19 years you had him. He always did belong to God.” When I’m in a Spirit-filled frame of mind I know I am blessed. And the peacefulness of knowing I’m blessed by an amazing God can co-exist with the pain. But sometimes I just ain’t feelin it.
Today I throw a big temper tantrum and proclaim my life sucks. I want Drey back. I want to see his face, touch his ears, see those muscular soccer legs, see that smile, hear him say, “Hey, Mom?” which is how so many of his sentences started. I want him back.
Tag Archive | christian suicide
20 short years ago
Drey 1st pic with Mom
Can’t you distract yourself? Think of something else. Drink a little – or a lot. Go shopping. Dive into a project. Jump back into your career. Exercise and get your body uber-healthy.
These are all good things in the right dosage. But they don’t make a lasting dent in this grief.
Losing your child is gut wrenching.
Losing someone violently is hideous, surreal.
Losing someone because they chose to die is agonizing.
All three together in one day, in one instant, is simply not survivable apart from God.
July 10, 1993 I woke up in labor at 7:20 a.m. Mom’s remember these things. My pains weren’t too intense and were about an hour apart. But I knew. He wasn’t born until nearly 26 hours later. He always was a stubborn little shit. He got that from his Dad.
I love you. I remember you. I miss you.
How is grieving a suicide different from grieving a non-suicide death blog 2
I blogged on June 1 two ways grieving a suicide is different from grieving a non-suicide death. There is a third way it’s different – and I’ve been suffering from it since day 1 but was not able to name it until now. PTSD – Post traumatic stress disorder. I thought the only people that experienced this were actual victims of a crime and people who were present when someone died or went through trauma. So anytime I had a panic attack I… well… I said things to myself that in hindsight I can see weren’t helpful. “Come on, Denise, this isn’t rational. You’re fine. It was months ago. You should be able to drive your car faster than 70 mph now without freaking out” and so on. I remember my Mom sent me a video on FB of pranks where people were sleeping and startled into waking up. I freaked out watching this (it’s okay Mom – who knew??). It wasn’t rational to me and so my self talk was judgmental. But still – almost a year later – loud, sudden, unexpected moments send me into a freaked out mindset. If I drive too fast my breathing gets fast and shallow – that’s my warning sign that I’m about to melt down. I’ve had outbursts of anger that were disproportionate to the circumstances at hand. God who am I?
I read a little about PTSD… 3 buckets of symptoms exist:
Reliving the event.
Avoiding.
Increased Arousal.
I experience all three of these to varying degrees but most frequently I experience the 3rd one. Increased Arousal: These include excessive emotions; problems relating to others, including feeling or showing affection; difficulty falling or staying asleep; irritability; outbursts of anger; difficulty concentrating; and being “jumpy” or easily startled. The person may also suffer physical symptoms, such as increased blood pressure and heart rate, rapid breathing, muscle tension, nausea, and diarrhea.
All I can say is God bless my family and friends as they hang in there with me. I wish I could just “be better.” I truly do. It’s probably hard to know how to love me through this. I get so frustrated with myself. And then I get frustrated with Drey. And then I feel an overwhelming amount of love and loss for him. Sometimes I just have to sit in it. Sometimes I just have to let the pain swallow me. This is such a lonely grief.
Things are different now
Self protect
Self protection
But things are different now. Since Drey died I have a tight inner-circle that I can share things with. Very tight. In part because the depths of this pain is unreal. And in part because I’ve been hurt by comments and questions.
In January I was speaking with a customer at work and during our conversation I shared that my son took his life last summer. He said if one of his teenage girls killed themselves he’s pretty sure he’d be okay because he knows they’re Christian and they’d be in heaven. While he said this he shared about two ways – by visually demonstrating – they might kill themselves. “You never know, someone can hang themselves or shoot themselves…” He had no idea how matter-of-fact and cold his comments were. He didn’t mean to be hurtful – I’m sure of it. I was able to keep it together for the rest of the work day but when I got home the tears poured. I told Robbie I couldn’t be vulnerable anymore. It just wasn’t an option. Life looked different for me now. We have to be careful what movies we see, what restaurants we go to, what music I listen to, where we drive and on and on and flippin on. And now the reality that I couldn’t even be the same ‘ol open me hit me square in the face.
Since then I’ve thought a lot about the difference between being self-protective and guarding my heart. There is a difference… when I’m self-protective my focus is ONLY on ME ME ME. It’s an attempt at not getting hurt, of not breaking down. But I miss out on laughter, on being comforted, on growing closer to friends and family. So, little by little, I’m learning to guard my heart instead. For me that means I limit commitments around hard dates in anticipation of being emotionally exhausted. I’ve learned which friends are good at just listening and call on them on the super emotional days. I’ve learned seeing several people all at once that I haven’t seen in a while is hard so I’m cautious when making those plans. And yes, I’ve learned before sharing with someone the news about my son to quietly pray about it first.
Phil 4: 6,7 Do not be anxious for anything, but with prayer and petition present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”
Some lessons must be learned again and again
Through the years I’ve collected a few mantras for directing my thoughts – especially when there’s conflict.
Seek first to understand – then to be understood.
Always assume positive intent.
Stay curious.
All good reminders that often make up my “self talk.” Not so much yesterday…
I received a card in the mail from the parents of one of Drey’s friends. I was so pleased – because I hadn’t heard from them since Drey had died which left me sad. I waited to open the card until I felt ready. (I’ve learned that sometimes cards contain pictures or stories about Drey that are WELCOMED but it’s best that I prepare myself. Kind of a guarding my heart ’til I’m ready thing). I opened the card yesterday afternoon. The card was addressed to Fred & Kris – Drey’s Dad and Stepmom. I was crushed. Not only had I not heard from D & M but apparently they were reaching out to Fred & Kris. The accusations began in my mind… “Drey talked to his friends about you, Denise. Everyone knows you were a shitty Mom EXCEPT YOU! But what was it I hadn’t provided for Drey? I loved him so dearly! What would’ve caused him to speak negatively about me to his friends?” And then the comparing began… “I attended more soccer games during high school than his Dad did. I was the one that took him to get his drivers license. It was me at the doctor and dentist appointments. OMG – is this why so many marriages that suffer the loss of a child end in divorce? Do they start comparing their love and finding fault with each other?” The tears began pouring. Deep, gut-wrenching wails. I texted A – a soccer Mom who has stayed in touch. “WTF A? Was I a bad Mom? Did Drey hate me?” She did her best to reassure me that wasn’t the case. Grieving parents need that reassurance… from their family, from their kid’s friends, from co-workers who remember the pictures and stories that were shared over the years. We forget. We get confused. We question EVERYTHING.
So I sat down – a little more calm – and cried some more. My thoughts continued to bounce between worrying what others thought of my parenting skills to questioning the skills myself.
A few hours later I read an email from Drey’s Dad, “Hey D – wanted to let you know I received a card from D & M that was meant for you and Robbie.”
Silly me.
Seek first to understand then to be understood.
Always assume positive intent.
Stay curious.
A Friend on the Walk 