365

Three hundred sixty five days ago Gordon chose to end his life. That just begins to number the days we will try to make sense of his decision. To make sense of the incomprehensible. To accept the unacceptable, to attempt to wrap our heads around his choice.

I'm only beginning,to push through the stigma that comes with a death by suicide. I struggle with saying my husband died by suicide. I struggle with talking about him, even when I long to hear memories about him. The isolation, the head games, the feeling of being judged at worst, and knowing you're being gossiped about at best. The regret of wishing you could have done more, the shame of an outcome beyond your control. I am more than the consequences of his choices. Yet I know I walk with his choice preceding me and following me. And you know what? He was more than his final choice.

These days I struggle with going places and being the single one. Especially the single one who's spouse chose to die. I struggle with conversations in groups, it's harder now to share of myself and easier to merely listen. I wrestle with choosing solitude and resenting it.

Untreated depression, health issues, life frustrations, anger,job losses all played a role in his choice. In the end his pain was greater than his ability to cope.

At the very least I can write about it, advocate, and share what the journey is like. It is not something that I/we had control over. We were not included in his decision. Even those who reached out to him could do no more than that. It is not a neat and tidy act, and healing from it is the same. I am acutely aware of being a alone and painfully aware of why.

It seems ironic, in retrospect, that he died during Suicide Prevention Month. Ironic too that his decision was, no doubt, fed by regrets. Our journey forward is filled with the same. If I've learned one thing this year is that we need to reach past the awkwardness, ask the hard questions, breech the painful silences and subjects. We need to reach out. And we need to know, in our heart of hearts, we are never truly alone.

Even Keel

Sometimes our reality is just a hard place to be. August came and went, and as grieving goes it was a hard one. Grief knows no pattern, no schedule, it has a mind of it's own. I had a birthday, a significant one, and I really didn't want to celebrate it. Didn't want to even have it. It may have  been hard to celebrate even if life was on an even keel. I don't know. What I do know is life is not on an even keel. The reality that Gordon took his life is hitting hard. Owning it is the first step. Sadly I/we have been taking this first step for months and will be for years.

September is Suicide Prevention Month. There is so much stigma about suicide, so much isolation following a suicide, and so much soul searching for those who lose someone to suicide.  I do know looking back will not provide answers, as there will always be more questions than answers. The challenge is to look forward and step boldly, or timidly as the case may be, at best consistently in that direction. Sometimes that step feels crazy scary, sometimes they are wrought with tears. Sometimes they are the routine steps of our day-to-day life. It involves some of what we have always done, and some of what is new on our life journey. 

When we are on an even keel, we sometimes forget how grace filled life is. When we aren't, and many times we are not for a multitude of reasons, we still need to be open to the grace of the journey. 

This part of the journey is hard, is tearful. There is grace in that, and growth. Wherever you are in life, I wish you the same....grace and growth.