The Ever Present Question

No matter how much I know and how much I learn, for the life of me there are so many things I don’t understand. My wonderful daughter Kaitlyn who had the iron will of a super hero, the determination and drive that I’ve never seen before, had the strength to do all kinds of feats academically and otherwise; the strength and the self-discipline to go through all that she did to get into medical school, study like crazy to do well on exams and to do well in her medical boards, to run several miles every other day, to run a half marathon after only months of starting to run, and then run a marathon of 26 miles one month after that, go to the gym at 5:30 in the mornings several times a week before school, and eat healthy continuously, was unable to muster up enough strength to get on that phone before she took her life and TELL someone that she wanted to die, that she was on the edge, to give her wonderful life a chance to go on with professional help. I don’t understand it. I just don’t. I think she felt she had too much to lose by admitting what she hid all her life. And so she lost it all.

For as long as I live I will never understand the tragedy of this or ever rid myself of the weight of the sadness I feel from her loss. I don’t understand……..anything anymore.


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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12 Responses to The Ever Present Question

  1. mckarlie says:

    I’m sorry for your loss, I can’t imagine a worse thing for a person to go through.
    I struggle with suicidal ideations a great deal and you’ll often find people who take on a great amount of work and activities do so to distract themselves from the pain they feel underneath it all, to just keep going they fill every possible moment with tasks. But the unfortunate truth is that our pain always catches up with us, and for some it’s just too much to keep going. I recently spent some time in hospital on watch because they and myself, were worried i would do something to end my life, i have children and they are what keeps me tethered to this world, i scream out for help at the last moment because of them. But as someone who has been there, she must have been in great pain and truly believed it was the best option for her. Not to validate suicide, just trying to help with a little insight.


  2. gatito2 says:

    Since she died I have so many people tell me the same thing you just said. I have learned so much from them. However, in the still of the night, when her memory is so wonderful but hurts so very much at the same time, I still wonder. I just can’t face it.

    Would you do me a favor? I have a question to ask you and don’t want to do it publicly (nothing bad). My email address is


  3. mckarlie says:

    I understand. I’ve sent you an email.


  4. gatito2 says:

    I emailed you back. Thank you.


  5. No Name says:

    When I experience those thoughts, I believe help is useless. I believe I’m too sick to ever get better. And envisioning the future—nothing but tears and grief and sadness, day after day—seems more than I can bear. I feel as though I’ve been condemned to a life sentence of misery. Sometimes I just want out!

    Your daughter loved you so much. She may have believed (wrongly, of course) that her sadness was hurting you. She may have felt you would be disappointed in her or that you would have resented her for telling you. Of course none of this is true, but when I am suffering a lot I believe my parents hate me and wish I could be normal like everyone else’s child. I feel like a huge burden on them. To see a counselor just means more disappointment, more failing.


  6. gatito2 says:

    I understand. Depression distorts someone’s thinking so much.


  7. jmgoyder says:

    The fact that you are writing through this grief and bewilderment is so courageous because you are raising so much awareness about the kind of depression that is hidden. And there is such a sense of Kaitlyn’s presence within each post.


  8. gatito2 says:

    Thank you so much. You have no idea how encouraging your words are.


  9. Ray's Mom says:

    So sorry for your grief and the loss of your talented daughter. There is no ‘cure’ for grief – nothing can replace that empty place in your heart and soul. Stay strong, do what makes you happy and comfortable. No one has the right to criticize you until they too have experienced your tragedy. Time does heal, but there will always be times when a memory will flash into your conscience and the tears happen.
    God bless…


  10. David says:

    Do you think that finding a reason to why she did this (other than sadness)would be helpful to you?


  11. gatito2 says:

    I think that was the reason. I’ve long since decided any other reason cannot be found if it exists.


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