The Tenuous Grasp on Life

Sometimes time flies, sometimes it creeps at a snail's pace. Today marks five years ago that life ended for one, and life changed for many. We can't know for certain what tipped the scales and why death became the decision. We know at the time life was hard, mental and physical health was in jeopardy, and in an instant, there was no going back.

I have pondered a million times the days leading up to that choice. We wonder, we wish, we long for second chances that never came. We wish the prayers we prayed before that had been answered a different way. How does one make that decision and then act upon it? We can't know unless we've walked that path.

There are days we all have a tenuous grasp on life. Yet we find a way to stay the course. We do that with the love of family/friends, faith, with the help of mental health professionals. We do that with therapy, antidepressants and anxiety med's if need be. We do it with tears in our eyes, and fear in our heart. We do it because life is precious and because there is help to be had if we are open to it. In this case all of those things were available, all of them. 

Some people will always look at survivors of suicide loss with judgement which adds to the stigma. Some exclude us, never ever mention that time in life. Personally, it's like my whole married life vanished that day.  People act differently because they don't know what to say or how to say it. In their mind we represent scary things in life. And by distancing from us a false sense of security is had. I can only imagine he felt a pain filled isolation with his struggle, and after his pain ended, his survivor's carry that burden.

I can't change what happened, but I can speak my truth. I can own the pain, the sadness, the sense of loss and the reality that suicide is not just out there. It happens in our families, or our work world, in our schools, in our social networks. People choose to die, and it doesn't have to be this way. 

They say the further out you get it gets easier. I'd say it gets different. There is nothing easy about it. The further out though, the less it gets spoken of. And yet, we never forget. We know the tragedy we are a part of. We know of good memories and bad, the in sickness and in health. We know it didn't have to be this way. So, for those who have lost their battle I speak up. I say there is help available. I say you are not alone. I say it's okay to not be okay. 

Give it UP

Whenever I come up short on something, I have two go to responses. Try harder to make up the deficit.  Or give up something of value to make up the difference. Both of those approaches presume that I have all the power, when in fact I have precious little. Instead of trusting first I attempt to fix the situation. Dang, that is exhausting.

I know I need a different approach. I know what it should be. I need to give it up. Yet, I often forget, or lack faith, or don't want to let go and let God.

Who's with me on this? Time and time again I've seen the bigger plan fall into place. I've seen the blessings that came from traumatic times. I've felt the grace. I've received gifts, made connections, been spared pain, been removed from harm's way, felt the love, shed the tears, shared the laughter, been wrapped in comfort. I've found a way to pay the bills, to care for my needs, to make the changes necessary. Still, I attempt to try my way first. When I get out of my own way miracles happen. 

I do have to laugh at the irony of all this. I know about ask and you shall receive. I do. Nowhere it is written try harder, try longer, go without, you have the power. Not. Definitely not. Yet I falter. Owning it is the first step.

So, for all of us who are floundering the good news is we are not alone. We are in fact a very large group of humans having human moments that we wish we could fix. My challenge, perhaps yours too, is to set it down. Release, trust, take a deep breath and give it up. So that the greater good can come to pass. And it will. It will, it will, I trust it will.

World Suicide Prevention Awareness Day

Nobody pays much attention to days like today. Unless you have experienced a loss to suicide. Such a loss changes you, shifts your path in life, alters your reality. It leaves us perpetually wondering what could have been done differently. What can one person do to promote awareness of mental health issues? How do we reduce the stigma so that those suffering can reach out for help? How do we find ways to connect to those who have experienced a loss?

If only I had all the answers. It's a tough subject. It's hard to own. My guess is many of us have experience with loss by suicide. If not firsthand, then you know of someone who has. What if though, we talked about it openly? What if we acknowledged the date, or even the month of the loss? What if we didn't talk about survivors but talked to them. Awkward?? Uh huh. Sure is. What if instead of saying you are always so strong people understood those grieving don't have a choice. We didn't ask for this, we sure as heck don't want to be here. We may be tenacious, we may be lifted by our faith, we may be relentless in finding new meaning in life. But we don't feel strong, nor does that phrase give comfort.

What we are is broken and finding our footing day in and day out. We are always aware of the events that unfolded. We are not invisible, though it often feels like it. The further out we get doesn't necessarily make it better, just different. Even we find it hard to talk about. So, I totally get why others struggle with it too.

So, I challenge myself, and I challenge you to find the words to talk about mental health and suicide. To know that it's okay to not be okay. That pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional. To know that we all need help to get through life. Help comes in many forms and bears no shame. Ask for help, offer help. Say the hard words. Are you okay, how can I help, tell me more. 

Hold My Hand

There are times in life were our world shifts off its axis and we sorely need someone to be by our side. It happens to all of us. Sometimes we are in a position to ask for help. We call a family member, we reach out to a girlfriend, a neighbor, a coworker. Our support system wraps their arms around us, and when the time comes, we return the favor in kind. It's a lifeline, a safety net, a safe port in a storm. Sometimes we need that, sometimes we are that.

Sometimes life places you in the right place at the right time and you are called upon to be that person for a complete stranger. I know, I know, sometimes we look the other way when we see life being messy for someone else. We offer a silent prayer and figure that is good enough. We may pretend we don't see what's going on. We may think, not my problem, not my responsibility. 

If ever there was a place to witness those in need it is a hospital emergency room. Everyone is in their own bubble of pain and misery. You wait, you wonder, you observe. What's their story? What's their issue? You wait and wait and wait. You see the beginning of, or the middle of the story, but rarely the end. 

What if though, you are nudged by some greater power to connect with one of them? Do you respond to the nudge or dismiss it? Responding involves stepping out of your pain to be open to someone else's. It is responding in kindness with no expectations. It is witnessing someone's obvious distress and stepping outside of anonymity to establish connection. It is saying, I see you are alone would you like to sit with us. It is holding the hand of someone scared not knowing the outcome. But trusting you're offering a life preserver of some sort. Somewhere out there is a woman named Janet whose husband Scott suffered a traumatic injury. In the waiting and wondering in a life-or-death situation two people opened arms to her, becoming a surrogate support system. Two people felt the nudge and responded. They stood in the moment to hold another's hand.

May we all be that person. May we fill that need when it arises. We never know when we will be a Janet in her time of need.