The things we don't talk about Volume One

There are things that families don't speak of. Suicide.

The word makes my heart race. It scares me. It makes me feel very uncomfortable. And this is where I have to take a break to gather myself, wipe the tears away and when my kids walk through the room and flash me a questioning look... I can't explain to them what the problem is because I can't speak of it.... out loud.

Suicide.

It happens. I bet you know someone who has tried it or maybe unfortunately accomplished it. I'm sorry for your loss or the stress it put on you and your family. And if the case may be, I'm sorry that you went through it yourself.

I remember standing at the kitchen sink. It was a bad day. A lot of stress. We had just moved into our first house. We were renters for years and this house was a big deal. We did all of the remodeling ourselves and even though me and my husband at the time didn't agree on the decor, we managed to meet in the middle and I was pretty exhausted by the whole process.

I was having female issues, had been on my period (sorry guys) for 72 days and the doctor put me on birth control to try to help it end. I was taking 4 birth control pills a day! I was an emotional wreck. The kids were at odds and my oldest boy was causing problems in school. I felt like a failure and wondered if my family would be better off without me. Other problems arose and I thought it was all too much to deal with.

Now, I cannot believe I was ever in that place emotionally/mentally.

I was washing dishes and watching the cars drive on the road behind our house. They travelled at high speeds since it was a country road. And then suddenly I put my dish rag in the sink and moved toward the door, into the back yard because I knew that all I had to do was step out into the road at the last minute and it would all be over.

No more pain. No more sadness. NO more disappointment. No more ME.

And now I know, no more future. No more Toddler or new husband. No more writing group. No more pictures to prove I grew monster tomato plants. No more dreams. No more laughter. No more seeing how well my kids grew up despite my efforts to warp them... mwahaha!

I didn't make it to the road....obviously. I can't say that it was my kids who pulled me out of that ugly place. It wasn't even my husband. It was my Mom and the fact that I was always so afraid to disappoint her. I knew that she would be devastated if I stepped out in front of that truck. I didn't want her to be heart broken. She is the one person in my life, at that point that I knew loved me unconditionally.

I know better now.



Two Tomato plants at war for one space...who will win?

So now my secret is out. You know now.

I bring this up because I've recently been reminded of that day. My seventeen year old had a fight with his girlfriend and you know how teenagers are. I looked into his eyes and felt the panic flood in. I wanted to run around the house and hide the rat poison and pain killers. I wanted to throw out the knives and sharp objects. Hell, I even considered hiding the power tools. I saw the signs. Feeling unworthy, hiding away, horrible mood swings.


Please know that however bad it is for you at this very moment, it gets better! But you have to give it a chance to get better first. Don't give up! And please, ask for help. That is the hardest part of getting through, admitting that it happened or could happen. Or at least for me it was.

1-800-273-talk or 1-800-273-8255

That's the number for the Suicide Prevention Hot line. They have a slogan... With help comes hope. It is the truth. You need a little help and then you'll start to see that there is hope! I promise! I know!! It will get better!