Oh Kaitlyn, what have you done?

This morning I woke up crying, “Oh Kaitlyn what have you done? What have you done?!” You extinguished your bright light Kaitlyn. How could you have done something so final?

I have maybe 30 minutes or an hour or so each day where I think maybe I can be strong. She was in pain, she ended her suffering, it was her choice. But you were wrong in your thinking this time Kaitlyn, so very wrong. Something was not right, not this time Kaitlyn.

My feelings feel as though they have been sanded over with sandpaper, like the sandpaper we found in your apartment, obviously used for some project you had around your place. You were always hanging something pretty, or doing this or that to it.
My feelings are wrong and often bitter. I hear of anything related to a doctor on TV and I cry out within myself and say “My baby will NEVER be a doctor now. They will graduate without her!” Grey’s Anatomy, one of my favorite shows, has now been deleted from my series recording on my DVR. I could never bear to watch that again. I see parents in the paper or on facebook standing with their children as they have graduated or won some award, all smiling and filled with pride and happiness for the future. We stood like that too. Parents cherish them, for we never know.

What was it all for? Where did it all go? This brilliant soul that I loved so dearly. Such a light in my life, she put it out. She went and put it out, deliberately, methodically, but something was wrong. How can those sweet smiling eyes that last looked upon me that day telling me she’ll see me soon, know that she would not see me soon?

Yes, some minutes I feel strong, thinking perhaps I can go on and make something good come out of all this. Perhaps I can still be a nurse on the side and do some advocacy on the side for mental health awareness. But then I’m knocked down again, and I just want to curl up in a ball and know that my life will never, ever be the same without my bright shining light in it. Kaitlyn, you put out your bright shining light, what horror made you do that?

There is absolutely no aspect of my life that has not been changed by the fact that you ended your own life. I think what is the point of loving someone so fiercely and then it can be gone in an instant? What’s the use in trying your best to succeed when some monster called depression can take you over and make you throw it away? Why go out to eat, or do anything at all outside of my house, it all reminds me of you and how much you loved it. I will never be able to sit at any restaurant that you loved ever again with the joy I once had. Everything I look at, everything I do, reminds me of you because you permeated my life, you were in my heart and soul, now what am I supposed to do? My house is filled with your things, older and newer things. I still have the very pictures and paper flowers and report card papers hanging on the side of my refrigerator door since the time I put them there many years ago. Yours and Stephanie’s. I left them there on purpose all these years. You are everywhere in my life, every space in my life, bits and pieces of you…..everywhere……and you’re nowhere.

Kaitlyn, your cat Gatito had seemed to be adjusting. But now he won’t let me pet him long and is off by himself so much. He meows and I never know what he wants. It seems that he is thinking that this trip you took this time is taking so much longer than the trips you took before. He’s ready for you to come back. He’s still looking for you. I feel as sorry for him as I do for the rest of us.

I’m still haunted by the last Facebook message I sent you online when I saw that you were online, the day you were apparently preparing to die. “Are you there?” It remained unanswered, never ever to be answered. The question is still there.


About gatito2

My name is Rhonda. I'm a registered nurse, for the last 20 years, that has not been able to work since the day I learned of my daughter's death by suicide 4-12-13. (She actually died 4-11-13 and her body was not found until the 12th) Me and my husband have been married for 32 years and he's a wonderful man. We grieve in different ways. He works, I write. This is my journey through this horrible land of losing a child..
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4 Responses to Oh Kaitlyn, what have you done?

  1. lensgirl53 says:

    My heart is racing and my eyes stinging as I read this in the wee hours. I know your every word by heart and pain….”are you there?”…I am so sad for the both of us.


  2. gatito2 says:

    Mee too. I hurt for you as well. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my ramblings into the wee hours.


  3. Katherine says:

    Reading this breaks my heart. I often think about my son in a similar way. What did you do! Why did you do it! Please tell me it isn’t so, not my baby. He is my baby, no matter that he was 22 at the time that he ended his life. I, like you, write to ease my pain. He’s been gone from this earth 18 months now. I’ve written him letters that I keep in a three ring binder. I’ve written poems. I have a blog but lately I let that slip due to my health. Now, it’s time to write more. It sometimes seems that when I start writing, the words pour out of me like an overflowing fountain. I’m so sorry for your loss.


  4. gatito2 says:

    I am so very sorry that you lost your son. I can’t imagine any worse pain than this. I do write to ease my pain like you do. I find many people simply cannot do that at all. I’m glad at least I have a vent or I would explode. I wish you as much peace as you can have. It’s hard to find that now.


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