This week we welcome Marjorie, a survivor who lost her husband to suicide almost ten years ago. Marjorie wrote to us with highlights of her grief journey as a widow following her tragic loss. With her permission, we adapted her email into a post as both Becky and myself were touched by her words. We feel that many of our readers can benefit from what she has learned about herself along the way.
Marjorie’s Story:
I lost my husband to suicide in 2006, after he lost his job, and have struggled to understand, accept, and move on. I attended an 8 week Suicide Support Group hosted by Hospice (I believe they saved my life!), went to an outstanding therapist for approximately two years, read several books, read articles on the internet – you name it – anything to help satisfy my desperate need to understand. I probably spent the first eight years worrying about my children’s mental well being, putting my efforts into getting them through college, and then married; and trying to tend to my needs at the same time.
I was one of those people that couldn’t wait to be finished grieving (I wanted happiness) and often fooled myself into believing “I’m done – I made it”. When I retired in June 2014, I was hit with a very unexpected round of grief again. All the plans and dreams my husband and I had for retirement went down the drain. Once again I was faced with “reinventing my life”; this time was the most challenging. I continued to fight the grieving process and hated giving into it. It has taken me almost 10 years to accept I will never complete this process and it’s “ok”. My life has a few more phases. I now expect I will grieve with each new phase.
Things I have learned:
1. I will always be very grateful for my strength. I don’t know where it came from. Half the time I was on auto-pilot with no memory of how I got from point A to point B – but I made it this far! On the other hand, I think I have developed a love-hate relationship with the word “strong”. Sometimes I feel I’ll scream if I hear one more person say “you are such a strong person”. I guess it reminds me of where I’ve been.
2. The people you thought were your best friends sometimes just can’t be there for you in a time of need. People you least expect can become the most supportive. I now believe in “Angels” on Earth!
3. Shame ruled my life for several years and I allowed it to isolate me. I learned I needed people. Preferably positive, non-judgmental people.
4. Under these circumstances, simple is best. I want to believe people, trying to be supportive, have no idea how hurtful they can be. “You are so lucky he didn’t kill you and the kids, too.” It has made me think very carefully before I open my mouth.
5. There really are no guarantees in life. I want to continue to learn to appreciate all the good things in my life and never take them for granted.
6. I learned to believe in what my mind and body are telling me and to do what was best for me. Not what people thought I should do. “You’re grieving too long.”, “You need to get out and date.”,
“You need to move on – it’s been five years.”
7. It was good for me to have people who needed me. I was determined to do the best I could for my kids and be sure they knew I would always be there for them. As they moved on with their lives, my dogs got me through the next years! It was so important for me to feel loved.
8. I’ve learned who I am and who I want to be. If I had to go through such a dreadful experience,
Then shame on me if I don’t learn something from it.
This May will be the 10th anniversary. I want to give the hope that time does help. It doesn’t make you forget but, the intensity lessens. I can say his name with fond memories instead of intense pain. I can feel relief that he is in peace. Sometimes I am hopeful that there will be another chapter in my life. I am trying to accept the belief that he wasn’t “mine” but he was a wonderful part of my life for 29 years.
Thank you so much for sharing this! It touched my heart as I have felt those same emotions in dealing with the loss of my son. It will be ten years in June. I love that Dolly Parton (in Steel Magnolias) was right when she said “Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion.” I love that I can laugh when speaking of my son. I have learned that people can say stupid things (Like, ” you still have your other son, forget about this and concentrate on him. ” Really?). And I have come to love that I am strong. I wasn’t strong to begin with, but with the grace of God, I have grown through this experience. And I am strong. I never wanted to be. And yes, some days, grief washes over us like waves. But that is ok. There are triggers. And we grow to recognize them. God bless you.
Pam, I am so happy for you that you have been able to find some peace. I agree with you; it’s wonderful to reach the point when you can once again appreciate all the happy times you had with your loved one. It allows me to realize and be grateful for how much I have healed. I have been surprised by the “triggers” and I think songs have been the worst for me. Even 10 years later I can hear a meaningful song on one day with my emotions under control and the next day I hear it and completely fall apart. This healing process is definitely one step forward, two steps back!! I wish the best for you and your family and continued healing! Marjorie
What a wonderful post. I lost my husband to suicide almost 14 years ago and I feel many of the same things you so gracefully articulated. Thank you.
Thank you for sharing Marjorie’s story and the perspective on losing a mate. It has been just 14 months since my partner went and although I know I have come a long way already, the journey continues. I am a little unsettled to think the grief may continue to hit over the course of the next several years but if this is the case then at least I won’t be taken off guard. I can relate to many things Marjorie wrote, especially about being strong. People have said to me he wouldn’t have gone this way had he not known I would be strong enough to deal with it. As time passes and the healing continues I feel stronger but certainly didn’t when everything was so fresh. I am firm believer we never get dealt with more then we can cope with, so I have faith that I will reconcile with this loss and be able to rebuild again.
Thank you Marjorie, it is comforting to read about the experiences and feelings of someone who is further down a similar track to me. I lost my partner only eight months ago and I often despair of the unrelenting pain of it all. Yet I can also see that I am moving along from where I was earlier which gives me some hope for the future. Mainly I am sad because I just miss him so much. I only had 4 years with my beautiful, caring, supportive man and I feel angry at times that that is all I got. Yet had it been 20 years or 50 it still wouldn’t have been enough.
Hi Wendy! I am so sorry for your loss. This was the most painful experience of my life. I vividly remember my heart feeling crushed and truly aching……it does get better. I missed my husband soooo much ( and still do!). No, 29 years was not enough!! When time passed and I realized, for the first time, that a half the day went by and I didn’t think of him, I felt horribly guilty. As awful as it may sound, I am now so pleased when a day goes by and I didn’t think of him. I know I will never forget him; I certainly don’t want to. It just gives me the hope that I am healing and trying my best to move on. I am so happy that you are seeing your progress!
Thank you for sharing Marjorie’s story. I know it’s not true but sometimes you feel like you are the only one going through this. It’s been nearly three years since my husband died from suicide. I was the same, wondering when the pain would stop, when I would be “over it”. Surprisingly, there is some peace in knowing and accepting that I will never be over it, I will live with it, it will make me a different person and my life will be so different from the way I (we) planned. I miss my best friend more than words can say.
I think Jessica and Becky are providing a wonderful service to survivors. We obviously are not alone but,
I found, among my family and friends, I was alone. When I started reading this blog site I was inspired to write to them. I still find it helpful knowing others understand. It validates my feelings. Once over the initial trauma, I think learning to accept “this experience” will never be over has been one of the hardest.
I agree, there is some peace in knowing and accepting it.
Truer words were never written. Thank you for joining me in this journey that links us. I lost my husband to suicide 6 years ago so I get it in ways few others can. We are warriors in our own unique ways as part of a sisterhood we never chose to be part of. We do the best we can as we travel a path we would never have chosen. Sending love, light and dare I say…strength to you.
Dear Nancy,
Your description of our joint journey truly touched me. I don’t think I have ever heard anyone give such an accurate account of what we are left with. We definitely are a sisterhood that we didn’t choose to belong to. But, thank heavens there is a “sisterhood” to help support each other.
I believe “support” is the gift we must find the strength to give each other. Who better to give it than those who have experienced it. I agree we are all doing the best we can at that moment in time traveling our life path. With the needed help of love, light and most definitely strength and courage, I hope we will find many ways to be kind to ourselves.
Thank you marjorie for sharing your story. I am enlightened. I am relieved. It’s really hard for me to accept my husband’s death by suicide. Until now I’m badly hurt everytime I miss him. I love him so much. He’s always in my mind. I struggle a lot to overcome the pain I feel inside. I need someone who can relate with my feelings and who can give me advice on how to cope up with life after his death.
I really need someone who understands what I’ve been going through after my husband committed suicide. The nature of his death is really unacceptable. Please help me move on. Tell me the best thing to do.
Dear Ana,
I don’t know your circumstances or the length of time you have been searching for understanding. It is so heartbreaking to hear the pain you are experiencing in every word you write. We have all been there and probably continue to battle it in our own way at a lesser intensity as years go by. It’s very difficult to accept what we don’t understand. I don’t personally believe there is one universal way to move on. I guess I feel it’s more important for you to identify what you need most in life. For me, I discovered it was, in a broad sense, understanding and closure. On a personal level, it was “love” and “acceptance”. I found I desperately needed to give it and receive it. These realizations did not happen over night. Through this whole experience I found out I didn’t know myself that well. I really had to work at finding out what was going to make me happy and move on other than the impossible act of bringing my husband back. I think it would have been easier for me if I were a person who was very goal oriented and needed something that was very concrete. “Closure” and “Love”, I found, are not easy. Over the past 10 years I had several unexpected experiences that gave me some closure. In the last two months, reading Jessica’s and Becky’s blog entries were very helpful with coming to terms with the fact that I may never have complete closure. As for “love” and “acceptance”, I found some of what I needed in the children I worked with professionally and my dogs. Kids and animals have a wonderful way of being uncomplicated and unconditional. It was too easy for me to misread things family and friends said or the way they acted. There are so many possibilities that can allow a person to find some happiness. I knew I couldn’t stop until I found some. Reading the responses from women like you gave me a very surprising reaction. I’m confident all the comments I received have benefited me more than any help I had hoped to give others. I thank you all for that!
Thank you so much Marjorie. You help me a lot. You really inspire me. I’m stronger now. You make me feel better. My husband passed away last March 25, 2015 at the age of 34. We have 3 children ages 9, 6 and 3 years old. I never thought he will commit such act because I know he loves us very much. I’m trying my best to move on as fast as I can for my self and my children.
Dear Christina,
I share your hope for finding a way to give support to those on this heart breaking journey. And, I know I still need support at times. I feel there is a definite need for on going support in the area that I live. I have a very strong love for dogs and I feel there should be a way to combine this with support – I just
don’t know how to go about it. I am very grateful for this website!
Next month will be the ten year anniversary of my husband’s passing. Every year, starting in March, I begin feeling anxious, somewhat irritable, and sad. I don’t understand what’s wrong with me until I realize around this time in April, that the anniversary is approaching. A “duh” moment!! My sadness remains but, understanding the cause eases the anxiety and irritability. It is still so painful and makes me angry to receive a piece of mail addressed to him – Geez, it’s 10 years!!!
I really appreciate the support we have all given to each other through this website and I hope it continues to give us strength. Sending Hugs!
I am so glad that I found this site and can read about other people who know what I am feeling. On April 28, 2015 I lost my husband to suicide. This date is coming up next week and I am sad to see it come. A year later and at times I feel so lost. My husband was always a hard worker. He could fix anything. When someone else had work that they needed help with, he was the one they called. Telling someone No was not an option for him. Because of the way he abused his body with work, he then had many problems with pain. When he could no longer do physical work and anxiety and depression reared it’s ugly head. For 11 1/2 years he battled this. We tried different doctors, different medications and no one seemed to be able to help him. He once told me that if he could just get rid of the depression and anxiety, he could handle living with the pain. On that Tuesday night, April 28th, he could no longer deal with everything and he took his own life. I will never get that image out of my mind. Although I am disappointed in his decision, I can not be angry with him. He suffered terribly and he fought with everything he had left, hoping to get some relief. Our daughter was 6 months pregnant with our first grandchild. Although he was happy about it, he worried that he wasn’t going to be able to be a good grandfather. My son, who is a police officer, lost his hero that night. I know as hard as it is on all of us, he did this out of love. He thought he would be more of a burden to us. No matter how much I told him that he wasn’t. I told him many times that I was not giving up finding him the help he needed. I think after 11 1/2 years, he was tired of fighting and he thought this was the answer. My therapist tells me in time my heartache will ease but I miss my best friend. I try not to cry in front of my adult children because I know they will just worry about me. I feel lost and confused at times and I know I will never get the answers to my questions. I NEVER EVER thought he would do this. Maybe even after a year the shock has not completely left. I have a hard time being around his mother, brother and sister because I feel like I have let them down. They tell me they are grateful for everything I tried doing for him but I just can’t get over that feeling. Although it saddens me that others have gone through this, I find all the stories comforting knowing I am not alone in the way I feel. I am a firm believer in the saying “God doesn’t give you more than you can handle.” I will get through this but for now I am still devastated. Thank you for allowing me to open up and tell a little bit of my story. God Bless all of the other people who are dealing with the same thing. I wish I could help but I’m still confused on what I am doing. Hugs and prayers to all.
We are happy that you found our site, and hope that we can continue to offer you hope and support on your journey. Thank you for being so open and candid about your experience. You share it with people who understand exactly what you are saying. Continue to care for yourself!