This week we welcome Melissa, a sister grieving the loss of her sister AnnMarie. Since becoming a survivor I have found that suicide loss impacts every culture, every religion, and every age group. We thank Melissa for her courage to share her story. Melissa’s family created a foundation in honor of AnnMarie. They are working diligently to help our youth, a population that has seen an increasing amount of suicide rates. For more information, visit AnnMarie’s Foundation.
Melissa’s Story:
Visit museums in the city. Go get ice cream. Have play dates with our bunnies. These were just a few of the “to-dos” over the summer that my little sister, AnnMarie, wanted to accomplish. We discussed these plans on Sunday, June 9th. And on Monday, June 10th 2013, I received a phone call that would forever change my life.
You know how people would say they could remember exactly what they were doing, what they were wearing, where they were when something terribly tragic happened in their life? I was grateful to never have really been in that group. But on that Monday, I became part of a club that I would NEVER want to belong to. I remember what I was doing before I received the horrible call from my brother that a police officer was coming to pick me up. I remember what clothes I was wearing. I remember what the weather was like. It feels like that day was yesterday, and it’s been almost 2 years. My sister was only 11 years old when she lost her life due to suicide. AnnMarie was more like a daughter to me than a sister. I was 17 when my mom had her, so technically I was at an age where I could’ve been a teen mom. Both of my parents worked full-time, so my brother and I helped take care of AnnMarie. I loved every second of it (though I will be the first to admit that over the years I would complain about having to babysit. In hindsight, I wish I never made a fuss about it). I would feed her if she woke up in the middle of the night. I picked her up from preschool, took her to birthday parties, and even brought her with me to meetings at work. She was my little shadow, my mini-me. She wanted to be just like me and do everything that I did.
After arriving at my parents’ house and finding out exactly what had happened, the different emotions that surged through my body were so intense. I was devastated, confused, but most of all, I was mad. How the hell could an 11 year old commit suicide?!
I don’t think I even knew what suicide was at her age. I am starting to realize now that kids these days are far more advanced in their knowledge of subjects that at one point rarely were in their vocabularies, and that is a scary thing. I was inconsolable, and that was hard on my husband, who tried to stay strong for the both of us. My parents could barely think straight, so when it came time to making final arrangements for my sister, I jumped into the parent role and picked the funeral home, her outfit, everything. I even made a list of exactly how I wanted her hair, makeup and nails done. By the time the funeral came, I was out of tears. People were looking at me funny, as if to say “why isn’t she crying? What is wrong with her?” Even when I helped the funeral director pack everything around her and close AnnMarie’s casket I didn’t cry. But by this point I felt like none of what I was experiencing was real. I was going through the motions for someone else. It wasn’t MY sister that I was standing next to at the wake. It wasn’t MY sister that was just buried. I was surely living someone else’s life.
It has almost been two years since AnnMarie’s death, and most of the time it still doesn’t seem real. I think my mind just doesn’t want to accept what is the truth. Everyone told me the first year would be the worst. I actually find that to be incorrect. The first year is when you are still numb. You don’t register that your loved one is no longer there celebrating the holidays with you. The second year has been harder. That’s when I realized that she really isn’t here, and she really isn’t coming back. She has missed so many things and will continue to do so. I’m hoping to be a mother soon; how could I possibly be completely ecstatic about that when my future child’s aunt will not be here to celebrate with me? It’s thoughts like that that really bother me. People will comment on how I’m doing so well. I thank them, of course, but it is a lie. I am not doing well, I just put on a brave face because I still need to work and function in society. My favorite time of the day is right when I wake up because, for those few minutes, I forget everything horrible that has happened and I feel normal. Then reality sets in and I have to go back to being able to function. It’s exhausting.
I haven’t yet allowed myself to dwell on the “why” of AnnMarie’s death. I do wonder if I missed signs or cues 
that she displayed, but the truth is I will never know why she died. I don’t think, even if I pieced together whatever clues I could find, I would fully be able to grasp why this seemingly happy little girl decided to end her life. Was she hiding something from her family, like depression? I will never know, and to focus on that will only make me crazy since I will never get the answers. Every day without her is a struggle. I sometimes catch myself about to call or text her when something funny happens, but then I realize I can’t and that feeling of overwhelming sadness washes over me. I know she’s with me in spirit-she gives me little signs here and there. But I will be honest and say that the signs are not enough. I am selfish and I want her here. Every day without her is a struggle, but I am hoping that over time it will get a bit easier for me.
Thank you for putting this out here for people like us. The minute I read the title, the tears started to flow. I feel like they haven’t stopped since 10-14-13, the Monday that I got the call about by little sister. You’ve validated my feelings and I thank you for that. Not many understand the magnitude of a loss like this and my prayer is that they never will!
I’m so sorry to hear of your loss, Bethany. I agree, not many people do understand what it’s like to encounter a loss like ours(and I’m grateful that they don’t. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone). I hope you are hanging in there; it’s a day by day process for sure.
Bethany I lost my younger sister to suicide a day after you did. So sorry for your loss.
Thank you for sharing your story Melissa. I could relate to nearly everything you said. So sorry for your loss.
Stephanie-
You’re very welcome. In a way it’s comforting to know others feel the same way you do/did, isn’t it? I’m very sorry for your loss. I hope you’re hanging in there.
Melissa,
Your candid truth is refreshing. And it is nearly unfathomable that your precious sister had suicide on her mind at such a young age.
It seems as if most people in our society can’t cope with the reality of our overwhelming grief and the circumstances of a loved one ending their own life. Sadly, most people would rather hear a lie than the uncomfortable truth of “I am not doing well.” We shouldn’t have to put on a brave face when we are so devastated and grieved with raw emotion.
My son ended his life six years ago at age 24. He was age 14 when he first talked about not wanting to live. He was bright and talented, and most everything in his life seemed to be on ‘normal’ track. Although, for the past decade and through his many years of struggle, I have pondered the meaning of ‘normal’.
For several years after my son’s last day with us, I awoke Every Day with the most intense piercing emotional pain that enveloped my entire being. It became even more painful and exhausting to stuff these emotions once it became clear to me that others preferred to not hear how I am *really* feeling. But I won’t lie. I usually shrug or mumble something, and then watch the antics of the person as they quickly make any excuse to exit the scene.
Sometimes when others ask how I’m doing, I muster the courage to say this: “I’m reluctant to answer your question because most people don’t seem to care to listen to my answer or they only want to hear that I am OK. So, instead of me answering your question, with all that you know and all that you observe about me, I ask you ‘How do you think I’m doing?’ ” And then I wait for their response. At this point, they are usually more uncomfortable than me.
Cathy-
I agree with you: most people would in fact prefer to hear that you are doing ok rather than hear how you are REALLY feeling. Every day at work I put a smile on even when I don’t feel like it for fear of upsetting my clients by having them see I’m having a rough day. I’m sure over time I will slowly heal and be able to stop pretending on some days. Feels like a long way off though, you know? Thank you for sharing your story and for your kind words. I am so very sorry for your loss.
Dear Melissa, I am so sorry for your loss. Such a beautiful child and so innocent. It made me cry because I have granddaughters that age. Your story is poignant and very sad.
I too, lost a sibling to suicide. My little brother, age 41, hanged himself on December 18, 2000. To this day, I still think of him and get so sad. Christmas has not been the same since he died. I had lost my dad 2 years prior and Kevin was the only family I had. I mean, I had a husband, kids and grandkids, but my :core” family was gone. U had to make the arrangements, pick out the clothes and even pay for it. I had had him cremated and buried his ashes with my father. That time of my life was hell, I grieved for both of them till this day.
Then on January 4th, 2015 the worst thing that could have happened to me became a reality. I woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. We had fallen asleep with the tv on and I looked at my husband looked funny. I touched him and he was cold. I screamed for my daughter to call 911 as my grandson and I did cpr. I was begging God to save him but in my heart, I knew he was gone. They took him to the hospital but was too late. By that time, my 4 kids and my husband’s family arrived. They told us that he was gone and let us see him. I went in first and everyone else followed. I broke down, laid my head on his chest and put my arm across his chest and just sobbed. My kids gathered around me but there was no consoling me. I felt so alone in the room with my family there. What was I going to do without my Mike? He was my first and only love. We had been together for 45 years. He was my love, my better half, soulmate and best friend. I live with my daughter and her husband now because I can’t go back to the house where he died.
It has been 4onths since mike died and I’m having such a hard time. I cry everyday and I feel so alone. I pray everyday for strength to get through everyday.
I know how much you are grieving the loss of your sister, but I believe she is still with you. I know I will see mike again and I feel he is still with me. That is what keeps me going.
I will say a prayer for you and Annemarie. I pray that you eventually begin to feel better. There is no right or wrong way to grieve and there is no time limit on the pain and loss we feel now.
God bless you and Annemarie.
Sincerely,
Karen Sherman
Karen-
I can’t even begin to understand how devastated you must feel, having lost your brother suddenly and then your husband. My husband is my rock…I know I wouldn’t be in a good place right now without him. There is nothing anyone can say to take the pain away, but my hope for you is that each day gets easier to handle. Thank you so much for sharing your story and kind words. I am so sorry for your losses.
Melissa,
Thank you for sharing your story. I too lost my baby sister (a twin) at the tender age of 16 on Jan 6, 2012. I raised them as if they were my own, as I was 17 when my mother had them, and would pick the pieces up when she would choose alcohol over family. Anyway, it has been 3 years since her loss, and I will not lie to you and tell you that it gets easier. Some days, its harder. I will tell you that life continues to evolve around our emotions, our sadness becomes a secret pocket filled with so much, tucked neatly in the middle of everything we do. Its there. Its always there, even though it is not seen or heard by others, it is very much felt by us! It is a very rough ride, but you will find yourself being thankful for more than you ever were. I will pray for and your family. May god continue to bless you and give you the strength you need day by day!
Nicole-
Thank you so much for your kind words. Slowly I’m learning how to adapt to my “new normal.” I hate the huge void that’s there, but you definitely do learn to appreciate even the smallest things and not take for granted anything. So sorry for your loss.
Melissa,
I have chills reading this story as I feel we have the exact same experience. My baby sister, Jenny, took her life almost 5 years ago. We were 7 years, 7 days, and a 7 hours apart and she was more like a daughter to me than a sister. She was struggling with depression and was in her last semester of college when she took her life. The pain of losing your heart and best friend was too much to bear. Thankfully, I have a great support system of family, friends and a sought therapy to be stop surviving and start thriving again. Sending you love and support. Please let me know if there is anything I can do.
Best,
Melisssa
Absolutely beautiful!
Thank you, Kathy!
Melissa-
Thank you so much for your kind words and offering support, which I’m sure you’ve noticed in the last few years is sometimes in short supply. I have been seeing a therapist for the last almost 2 years and I will admit that she has helped. Things are not the same, nor will the ever be again, but she’s been helping me transition. As far as the family support goes, sadly I feel like AnnMarie’s death has broken us apart more than anything. I’m hopeful that can change…but all parties involved need to WANT to fix things, you know? I do love what you said, though: “stop surviving and start thriving.” I’m going to try to live up to that. 🙂
I’m so sorry for your loss. If YOU need anything, let me know!
Thank you for sharing your story Melissa, and to all who have commented and shared a piece of themselves too. I too have a story, my husband. He took his life on March 19, 2014. I think I died that day too. Dougie was the love of my life! I fell deliriously in love with him 17 years ago. We were both separated with 3 young kids each. Our lives came together like a fairytale! Over the years our children grew up, things changed, there were things that were not quite right, a dark side that I didn’t understand and he didn’t talk to me about. In the days before he died, I see now, he was withdrawn and detached, I didn’t see the depths of his depression, his worthlessness, his heavy burden. I knew of his physical pain: headaches, neck aches, knee pain, joints. He was on meds for all kinds of things, not depression. I was blown to bits when I found him hanging in his workshop! Doug was 53. He didn’t take his life because he wanted to die, he was desperately trying to escape the pain that was consuming his mind. He wanted peace. I have to be ok with that.
Our stories are to be told. We need to raise awareness and reduce stigma, we cannot hide behind shame. We are survivors, our loved ones did not die in vain. Be strong Melissa, remember and cherish your time on this earth together, but know she will live on in your heart forever. Peace to you.
Margaret-
I am so sorry for the loss of your husband. I can only imagine the pain you have been feeling having lost your best friend.
Breaking the stigma is so important when it comes to the topic of suicide. People need to stop being afraid to discuss it and its repercussions! Children are especially ignorant to what suicide truly means. That’s why my family and I founded the AnnMarie Foundation. We strive to raise awareness and help prevent youth suicide. We actually have a bill waiting to be viewed by the House of Representatives that, should the governor sign it into law, will require ALL school grades 6-12 in Illinois to have a suicide awareness program! Slowly but surely that stigma will break; this vicious cycle needs to have an end!
I didn’t think anyone could fathom the feelings I felt the night I got the call my munchkin ended her own life. Thank you for sharing. This is my first visiting a support group I didn’t know they had them for siblings… No one could possibly understand what a till it takes on us unless they have experienced it. I was more than Megan’s sister we we’re best friends, I was her parent, side kick, role model, bad influence we were everything. Its been 6months now I still don’t understand why
Jessica–
It’s horrible that we belong to this sort of “club,” yet comforting to know that there are others out there who have sadly gone through the same thing. To this day I still ask myself why. It’s incredibly frustrating g to not be able to get that answer. I’d like to say that it gets easier, but I would be lying. Every day is a struggle to pick up the pieces and move on to your “new normal” as best you can. Hang in there; and know Megan is still with you-AnnMarie sends me signs all the time! That, in and of itself, is a big comfort. 😊