I have now reached a great precipice in my life. It’s been 14 months today since I lost my youngest daughter to suicide. And here I still sit, writing about the same horrible sorrow that I first wrote about in the very beginning. I have not moved on even one inch. I wrote this book which is the culmination of my search to make sense out of the senseless act that my daughter did. An act that she quoted “was the only thing that made sense.”
How does a mother come back from this? How does a mother who thought she was so connected to the very soul of her daughter get over something like this?
Over this last year I have marveled over some of the people that have lost children to suicide and their ability to at least give off an illusion of being able to make it in this world. I can’t even give off the illusion.
Please don’t think I’m feeling sorry for myself, because I’m not. I just do not know how to cope with this. I have times when the pain is not as intense, like when I’m with my other daughter. She makes me so happy and I love her so much. But I always go back to the deep depression and pain once I am back home and with my thoughts and memories again. You see, no one can help ease my pain and I don’t expect them to because it has to come from within me. But I don’t think it’s in me.
I see mothers that have lost their children to various means, and some recently, some I even know personally and they are able to get on the internet and still talk about other things, their faith in God, the achievements of others in their lives and I wonder why I can’t do this. I know they hurt as much as I do.
I feel so wounded. I feel like my very soul has been ripped out of my body and I am no longer the person I was. Everything I look at is painful.
I’m stuck in limbo. I can’t find a job. I feel uncomfortable being around too many people and I just …..well, I don’t know what to do anymore.
I guess when it comes down to it, no matter how much I understand depression and everything that is involved with it and even that I suffer from it myself….I can’t believe that Kaitlyn left me. I can’t believe she left her promising, successful life without so much as trying to get help. Only she knows those reasons. How could someone that was connected to me by our very souls just up and leave me? She left me knowing I adored her, that I would do anything for her. I would have done anything to have saved her, even given my own life. I loved her so much more than I love myself. I would have laid down my life for her. She hugged me tight as a toddler, she laid with me on the couch thousands of times to watch TV because she liked being with me. She got in my bed almost every Saturday when her father was at work and we would talk and talk. We talked about everything. And she LEFT me. She left me without giving me the opportunity to know that she was even in distress, without an opportunity to even help her. She left me. She left us all. The wound is as if it just happened yesterday.
I felt that when she died by my telling as many people as possible about hidden depression that her death would not be in vain. I have done this to the best of my ability. That mission is over and I feel like I’m no longer doing anything positive. My life is empty except for periods of happiness…but my overall life is miserable.
I don’t even know what I’m doing or saying anymore. I’m just ranting here tonight on the 14th month of her death (even though my blog may say 6-12-14, I am writing this on 6-11-14…my time zone does not coincide with this blog’s time zone).
Why do things like this happen? I know. There is no answer.
I know I have posted a lot the last few days. For those that subscribe to my blog, I’m sorry for filling up your inbox. But sometimes it has to come out and this is usually where it comes out.