From Bitter to Better: Two Years as a Survivor of Suicide

This weekend marks two years since my dad took his life. Once again, I find myself saying, “I can’t believe how quickly the time has passed.” And, like most, I still have trouble believing that I am actually a survivor of suicide, living in continued disbelief that my dad made this decision. Like Lindsay just wrote, it’s been a week of bittersweet celebration for us. After a year on the market, my mom was able to sell our family home, opting to move to a smaller condo. Whenever I think of “home,” or say I’m going to head there to visit, I picture that house. It was full of so many wonderful memories – most of which included my dad. I am relieved that we are able to close that chapter, especially for her, but sad that I will never be stepping foot into that beautiful house again.

I think back to the night before I learned of my dad’s death two years ago. My husband and I were enjoying dinner and wine out on our

deck – likely making conversation about happy plans for the future. I was feeling on top of the world, just two months into married life. The following morning – a Thursday – I rode the el train to work and remember how bright the sun felt in my face through the window. On the way, I sent a message to a few family members asking about potential dates for our Fantasy Football draft. Just about three hours later, my life changed forever when I learned my dad died by suicide. I can’t believe that while I was smiling out the window at the sun, my dad was elsewhere, no longer living. (How can the sun still shine after something like this happens?!)

Battling Bitterness

Bitterness has been a predominant emotion over this time. First, I was bitter about the way I found out. As I described in my “About Us” biography, I learned about it online. Mind you, I was in constant communication with my family and we really couldn’t have been closer. However, because my dad was found in a public park, the local newspaper published the story immediately, not giving my mom enough time to get to me in person, 90 miles away, to tell me. I’m still bitter that I was essentially the last person to find out since local friends and strangers had already seen the news and began posting about it on my Facebook page. Unfortunately, their messages didn’t turn out to be the sick joke I thought they were.

I’m also bitter sometimes about the fact that I now have something undesired – suicide – to invest so much of my time to. I see a grief

counselor, I attend LOSS support group meetings, I read about the topic and I battle thoughts about the way my dad died. When I hear or see suicide references in society, I am now met with memories instead of letting them pass in and out of my brain like they do for everyone else. I wonder what other more positive things or hobbies I might have been able to take on had my dad not done this. Don’t get me wrong, without this help I wouldn’t be nearly as far along as I am now – and I wouldn’t have the amazing friendships I have built with Jessica, Lindsay and other survivors.

And, I guess you could say I feel bitter when I see other girls with their fathers or remember that my dad won’t answer the phone now when I think to call him about something and that he chose to leave this world.

From Bitter to Better

Coincidentally this week, I caught a segment on the “Today Show” during which Kathie Lee Gifford spoke about the tragic loss of a family friend. She said that it’s really easy to become bitter when you concentrate on what you’ve lost, but you slowly start to become better when you shift your focus to celebrating and nurturing what you still have. I feel like I’ve made some progress but can look at this next year as an opportunity to continue to grow in this regard.

Over the past two years, I would say I have been able to accomplish some pretty amazing things – all in the effort of becoming “better.”

First, I was able to celebrate two anniversaries with my husband and we made sure to make the most of them doing what we love by spending time in Napa or eating at a great restaurant. I even started a blog about wine and Napa Valley travel tips. Also, I pursued some physical challenges that I never really thought possible. Motivated by our loss, my brother and I completed a sprint triathlon last September and are set to compete in another next month. I’ve also done a few 5K’s and taken up barre (ballet/pilates-inspired) workouts. High on my list would be starting this blog and playing a larger role with the LOSS organization in Chicago to help myself as well as other survivors.

Travel has also been a big priority – there is just so much out there I’d like to see. With either my job or family, I’ve been able to get to

Sweden, Mexico, Napa, Las Vegas, New York and even backstage at the Emmy Awards in Los Angeles, among other places. All things I know my dad would never be able to believe or would have loved to hear about. And, just after the first anniversary of my dad’s death, I decided I was ready to take on the challenge of a new job and enrolled in Swedish-language classes for a semester.

Like Kathie Lee suggested, I have made efforts to really concentrate on those people I do have in my life, making plans where I used to casually say, “we should get together sometime.” I accept invitations whenever I’m able. I make more phone calls than I used to… On the whole, I have a better appreciation for the notion that life is short and could change at any moment.

Better, By Survivor of Suicide Standards

By no means is my life “better” with my dad gone. It’s painful. In fact, I have even fought my own bout with depression because of it.

However, when I started to think about my dad and others who have found life too painful to endure, I made a commitment to myself that I would do my best to embrace life with a new outlook. I want to try and experience as many things as possible since he isn’t able to do so anymore. It’s not easy and some days are harder than others. One thing is for sure – There is still not a day that goes by that I don’t think about him. I wonder what he’d think about some of the things I’ve done since he died, or what his opinion would be about the choices I have or will make in my life. Frankly, I just miss his presence, smile and laugh.

This past weekend, we “toasted” to the sale of our family home with some sparkling wine and chocolate éclairs – his favorite celebratory treat. For the actual anniversary this weekend, I will be with my in-laws who have also been unbelievably supportive to me through all this.

I am comfortable with how I have been able to progress on my grief journey over the past two years as a survivor of suicide. I remember that there was a hall monitor at school who always used to respond with “better” when people would ask him how he was doing. I laughed at the time, thinking that was such a strange thing to say. But, it makes sense. All we can do is try to start each day better than the last.