We all remember that moment in time when we either were told, or found that our loved one had died by suicide. For me, it was a call in the middle of the night. Without even answering the call, I knew that it was about my dad. 
Your gut is strange; it often knows things that your mind and heart aren’t yet ready to acknowledge or accept. In the days following my loss, it’s as if the world stood still. There was much to be done; decisions to make, a funeral to plan. People surround us in our time of need, offering more support than we could have imagined. Yet, as the days and months begun to pass we became more aware that the world around us was moving on. While our loss continues to be “breaking news” in our hearts, it becomes “old news” for those who were not directly impacted. We can become bitter, angry, even envious of those who are able to continue on with their daily life. I remember feeling that way. What I have come to learn is that while my life changed in that instant, the world still remained the same; I just see it differently than I did before. It has made me softer, more accepting of others. It also helped me understand that it isn’t the fault of others that their world continued to move and mine appeared to stand still. Expecting them to see the world through our eyes is not realistic. That moment in time, the moment where life stood still, is my memory and mine alone. Being able to accept this helped me find a sense of peace and release a chunk of the anger that I held toward others.
I agree with the statement that the world remains the same. As I lost my brother, I mourned him but I also decided to move with the world. I didn’t want to fall into a depression where my family vand my professional life would also fall apart.
Great post, Jessica. The call will forever remain one of the worst moments of my life when I lost my dear brother. I think you make an excellent point of understandiung that others will never see it from our perspective. You truly want the world to “stop” and time to stand still so you can take things in and mourn. I have had bitterness toward family and friends who are not reaching out when I am in a time of need, however, it has really opened my eyes to those wno have had such compassion. I see the world through a different lens now, and those around us need to accept that we have ourselves changed through this experience. As hard as it has been, the ulitimate change I want it to bring to my life and those around me is positivity because there is no other way I would want to honor my amazing brother. Picking up the pieces and getting there is the hard part!
Beautifully stated! I think we learn how much control we actually do have over our grief; it just takes time. We can chose to focus our energy on resenting those who have not helped us through our process, or take time to notice and appreciate those who have. I often find that the people who disappoint us, never were as great as we thought they were. We just weren’t able to see it at the time. And you are correct….picking up the pieces and getting there is the hard part. It certainly is a journey.
I lost my 17 year old daughter almost 23 months ago. Although I am better on the ‘outside’ … the inside of me is still in deep grief. I agree with your statement of people (friends) who disappoint us … they were in our lives when it was easy and comfortable. Real, true friends are like family … regardless they are there to hold you up. We change and those who love us will continue to love and support us even in this new life that is certainly more complicated. Thank you to all my family and friends who continue to walk this journey with me. xo
Carol, do you know about SOLOS on Facebook? I’m in the 20 or under loss. I lost my 16 yr old son. It’s been helpful
Time does stand still. I completely agree with everything said here, the problem I have is with family and friends that don’t have the same compassion for us who lost a son…. We are constantly being to told to move forward and quit being victims. It’s confusing and heart breaking to be told something they couldn’t possibly understand, we have very little expectations from anyone except to let us grieve at our own pace.
I just wrote about this in today’s post. It is very difficult when everyone else wants us to move forward before we are ready. Managing your expectations is one of the best things you can do.
I lost my 58 year old husband after spending 26 years together, just six months ago. He lost the battle with alcohol and depression and when he committed suicide, my whole world fell apart. This moment in time has been burned in my memory forever, how I felt, how I reacted, who was there, the feeling of hopelessness. Those memories creep into my thoughts throughout the day or evening. I can’t erase the memory, but I can try to move forward accepting that this feeling will creep into my daily thoughts, but as time goes on new experiences and relationships with my family will carry me forward. I appreciate the love and kindness they share trying to help me, but I still resent the fact that I haven’t found anyone who can understand what it’s like to lose a husband of 26 years to suicide. Expecting them to understand I know is unrealistic. I am trying really hard to move forward and not to place high expectations on myself of how to grieve. But I must say, it’s very hard to do when everyone gets back to their normal life and yours has changed forever.
I.lost my 55 year old hisband of 26 hears 2 months ago. He went into a deep depression when I started talking about a separation. I am in such deep grief and feel so much guilt. I miss him so much. It is hard to see people going on with their lives when I feel at such a stand still. I go to work and take care of everyday chores but I’m just going through the motions and often my thoughts are on his suicide, conversations we had before and how he was in such turmoil and I had no idea it would turn out this way. I was at a friends house. Someone knocked on the door and yelled his name and said “he’s dead”
I’m right there with ya PJ. I am so sorry for your loss. Everything you’re feeling is normal. You’re doing good. Just keep getting up every day and know that he is at peace. I felt like a walking zombie just going through the motions of every day life for quite some time. I still have days like that. It’s like we’re in a fog. I can only pray that life will begin to fill our hearts and minds with joy and new memories as we move forward. I still feel guilt as well, but it’s gotten better with time. We need to remember, I feel, that we’re important too. Our lives matter. We must take care of ourselves as well as others. You chose to discuss separation because for some reason things weren’t right and you didn’t feel complete. It’s okay. I made the same choice too. How our husbands chose to react and deal with the possibility of losing us was their choice, not ours. We will always love them and remember the good times we shared with them, but we couldn’t save them and save ourselves too. I didn’t think my walking out the door that night would result in my husband killing himself either. We expected them to fight for us and be strong, but they couldn’t. For some reason they chose to let go. Life doesn’t happen the way we expect it to and this definitely devastated me. Be good to yourself, cry when you need to, get angry when you need to, and just breathe. They will be by our sides as we start our new journey and they will always be in our hearts.