Father's Day June 17, 2012
Today is Father's Day, and it is a day I no longer celebrate because I have no Fathers left. I think of them all when this occasion rolls around, not with sadness. It's a day I'm simply aware of and let my mind wander to days gone by.
My Dad - My biological Dad died when I was 15 in 1976. He was the youngest of 8 siblings from an Irish Catholic family. He'd had a good job as a top salesman for Carling Breweries, but got laid off bringing in much younger men at half the wage. This was a huge blow to my Dad's ego, one he truly never recovered from. Drinking was big in the 50's and he began to medicate with alcohol even more after losing his job. He was an alcoholic and had been for most of my life, and was unable to hold a job after that, often because of his drinking. My Mom had had to make the decision to leave and take my brother and I with her two years prior to his passing, I was 13 then. I loved my Dad, knew he was very sick and made no excuses for his alcoholism but did not let it stop me from having friends over or living my life. My Dad would sleep most of the day and roam at night in a drunken stupor. Life was quite different, yet I never felt embarrassed by it. It just was what it was, he was my Dad and I loved him.
I would have friends over and tell them not to disturb my Dad when he was sleeping. If he woke up, they all knew they'd have to hide. Sometimes under my bed, in the closet or on the balcony. It didn't strike me as odd requesting my friends to do this, it's what had to be done and they went along with it. I was able to compartmentalize my life and it worked for me. Sure I wished I had a “normal” Dad, but I didn't, and I did not allow it to stop me from living my life. My brother on the other hand had a very different relationship and always wanted that loving relationship from his Dad that he was never able to have. It impacted my brother's childhood dramatically in a very negative way.
My brother was very embarrassed, would never have friends over so it very much impacted him. My Dad was very hard on my brother, always had been since he was a little boy. As my brother aged, fights would erupt and my Dad could get quite physical with my brother. Was not a good environment to raise children in and my Mom did all she could to save up enough to be able to move out. We left once, went to stay with a friend of my Mom's, but it turned out she too was an alcoholic so that was like going from the frying pan into the fire. It wasn't very long before we had to move back in with my Dad. My Mom saved even more until eventually she had enough for first and last months rent and then we moved out for good into our own apartment, I was age 13, my brother age 17.
Just before Christmas 1973 when I was 15, my Dad asked permission to take me by train to my Nan's, his Mom's for Christmas. My Mom was reluctant, but I wanted to and we took the train and had a wonderful Christmas. My Dad at this point was not drinking, had been in a rehab type of place after having a shunt implanted that controlled the flow of fluid over the brain. He'd been warned that this type of surgery could be done only once, and that he was not to drink, for if he fell, it could dislodge and that would be it. His drinking had destroyed whatever naturally managed this flow of protective fluid and that is why he'd had the surgery. He had recently left the rehab and gone to live with another of his sisters, she too had a major drinking problem. We went to my Nan's and another aunt lived with my grandmother, she too had a drinking problem. Many in my Dad's family were prone to alcoholism. We'd go looking for one thing and find a drawer or cabinet filled with empty bottles. My Dad would raise his eyebrows and look at me and we'd close that drawer or cupboard and continue looking. My Nan was thrilled to have her son home and me, along with several of her other children. It was a lovely Christmas by all accounts.
Came home by train and Rob, my late husband but only boyfriend at the time, picked my Dad and I up at the train station. It was the one and only time Rob met my Dad. Rob thought my Dad was in his 60's, but my Dad was only 48 at the time, that's how badly the alcohol had aged him. One week later my Dad was dead. I was in school, had been called down to the Principal's office, me thinking it was because I'd been skipping class, but turned out it was because my Mom and cousin had come to tell me my Dad was gone. Didn't get called on the skipping that day.
Never knew what killed my Dad as his family did not want an autopsy done. My Mom didn't argue. The funeral was held and this was the first time I'd ever seen anyone deceased. My Dad looked calm and peaceful, it was open casket. I remember even then that I thought it most barbaric displaying our loved ones in death, but I didn't let it upset me. That visual of seeing my Dad like that is how I remember him still to this day. It is why I don't like open casket funerals as our memories seem to get stuck on the last visual we have of someone, anchored in your memory banks. I fixed his hair which wasn't the way he normally wore it, the service took place, the priest who officiated didn't know my Dad at all, yet let on he did and said many things about my Dad that we all knew not to be true. Also a memory that stayed with me. Everyone came back to our apartment afterwards. I was so thankful my Mom had agreed to let me go for Christmas as it was my last chance to see my Dad and I was truly grateful for that time.
I was sad my Dad was gone, but also knew that he'd never been happy without my Mom and yet had been unable to battle the alcoholism. I believe looking back that my Dad probably also had some mental illness that was never diagnosed. He'd always been babied, then married my Mom and she took care of him. He was never emotionally mature and was unable to deal with life's challenges, had no coping skills. He never would have been happy without her, so I knew even at that young age that in a way, this was probably best for everyone. My brother was distraught and I wondered how he could be upset as my Dad had always treated him so badly. I realize now my brother was grieving the loss of things ever being good with my Dad. Not that they probably ever would have been, but the hope for it was now lost forever, unresolved grief.
My step-Dad Bill: My Mom remarried later that year to a wonderful man named Bill. I had worked at my part-time job with Bill's daughter and we'd been friends without knowing her Dad was dating my Mom. When Bill was visiting and pulled out his daughter's photo, I recognized my friend Julie and shouted out, that's my friend! Small world :). Mom was 43 when she remarried for the 2nd time. She was very fortunate to have found a good man, stable, responsible and they were best friends. Bill had also had alcoholism in his past, but somehow he managed to get it under control and never had issue again. They had a good marriage for 30 years.
Bill was more of a Dad to me than my biological Dad ever was. I had moved out on my own with Rob at 15 1/2 much to my Mom's dismay, but I felt she deserved a fresh start in her new marriage and Rob's parents were wanting him to move out, so it made sense for us to move in together. My Mom, Bill and my brother were not happy at all, but knew I'd made up my mind and there was no stopping me. My Mom later shared that she so wanted to say “if you move out you can't come back!” to stop me, but she also knew I was so stubborn that even if things hadn't worked out, I'd never have come back after her saying that, so she didn't.
Bill was level headed, would always listen and give great perspective. Never judged me, always supported me and did the same with my brother. My friend had now become my step-sister and we all got along very well. My Mom got her second chance, she was happy and I was thrilled for her because she'd been through hell and back with my biological Dad. I envied my Mom's relationship with Bill in that they were best friends. They did everything together. Rob and I were not best friends although I always wanted to be and most definitely did whatever I could to make him happy. The friendship was one sided. My Mom's marriage was not perfect, there is no such thing, but it was a very good marriage overall. My step-Dad was always there for me, when I'd separated from Rob once when I was quite young there was no question as to letting me stay with them until I figured things out. He wouldn't pry, but he was there if I needed him. Many years later in 2000 when Rob my husband died by suicide, Bill my step-Dad was once again there for me. He was such a gentleman and a rock I could count on.
In 2004 Bill developed a type of blood cancer, it wasn't leukemia but something similar. He'd survived prostate cancer, had developed diabetes, had to have a pacemaker put in, but overall he'd been in pretty good shape. His health declined quite rapidly and he'd refused treatment because they were suggesting chemo with such a small chance of success and many known side effects that he chose not to go that route. Bill was amazing throughout it all even though I'm sure he felt like hell many times. I went to visit my Mom and Bill just a few days after Bill had been hospitalized. We visited him in hospital, talked, he was not doing well and could barely keep food down and had lost a tremendous amount of weight. Bill was a big, tall strapping 6'2 man, and to see him so fragile broke my heart. He got sick while I was there, I held the pan for him, helped him clean up and get comfortable again and he said “this dying sucks”. It is the only time he ever uttered what could even be considered a complaint.
My brother, step sister and I all came up to see Bill one last time but he was not awake any more. We all said our goodbyes, told him how much we loved him and that he'd fought a good fight but was tired and that it was okay to go now if he wanted to. We all left that day as all of us lived several hours away, wondering if that's the last time we'd see him. My Mom chose that night to stay over in Bill's room, something she'd never done before. She slept on a cot and he slipped away peacefully in his sleep. She was glad she'd chosen to listen to her instincts and stay that night, somehow knowing he wasn't alone. I got a call early the next morning telling me Bill was gone and I got organized and made my way back up to be there for my Mom. I felt very sad Bill was gone and knew we'd lost a good man that day. I'd lost the only real Dad I'd ever had.
My Father-in-Law Hubert: My father-in-law Hubert was quite a character. I knew Hubert, who I called Dad, for 33 years. He'd always been good to me, good to Rob, and was such a colourful person. He was far from perfect, but a super industrious entrepreneur all his life after coming to Canada after the 2nd World War from Germany. He raised his family of 3 children, Rob being the middle child, they lived a very good lifestyle, took amazing 3 month at a time trips all across Canada, the U.S., Europe and Mexico. They gave their children an education most children never got.
Hubert was an entrepreneur having his own TV antenna business for many years prior to cable TV coming in. My mother-in-law ran the administrative/bookkeeping end of it, he did the physical work. They did very well for themselves. He was such a hard worker, very handy and both he and my mother-in-law built an amazing log cabin style retirement home themselves. My mother-in-law could work as physically hard as most men. It was a beautiful home, amazing creativity displayed everywhere you looked. They maintained it themselves which was quite a feat as it had tremendous upkeep with huge windows, large gardens and a big property.
They remained until it became too much for them and sold it downsizing to a smaller place. They continued travelling for much of the Canadian winters, often back to Mexico which was a favourite of theirs. He loved my son who was the first grandchild, was the super proud Opa and was ecstatic when one year later to the day, a second grandson arrived. Hubert didn't relate to children really well, but he was a bit of a kid himself so he'd always be building something fun for the grandkids to try out, always home made of course.
My in-laws helped Rob and I out both personally and business-wise unlike any other parents I knew. They were supportive and so proud of Rob. Rob truly was the apple of Hubert's eye. Rob had inherited his Dad's mechanical abilities and had actually gone far beyond. There literally wasn't a thing in the Hildebrand household that couldn't be repaired so no need to hire a handyman when you had one built in. We had many good times, travelled to Europe for 3 weeks with my in-laws and had such an amazing time as they showed us around Germany, Austria and Switzerland. The best tour guides you could ask for!
Once Rob and I separated in March 2000, my in-laws of course supported their son, but they were also always very fair with me. They were very sad that Rob and I had split up after 29 years together and having run a successful business for 17 of those 29 years together. Our relationships were similar in that we both had run businesses together, I performing the administrative side of things as well. Things of course change with a separation, but they did all they could to still be in touch and supportive. They were very worried about Rob as he began to spiral out of control in the last few months of his life. The stress was wearing on them and in November of 2000 my father-in-law had a major heart attack. He was never the same after that, but was slowly able to recover yet no where near what he had been prior to the attack.
Rob began attempting suicide at the beginning of Dec. 2000 and they were aware of it. The stress and worry was taking a toll on them too. When Rob died by suicide at Christmas, my father-in-law was devastated as was Rob's Mom. Neither of them could believe their beloved Robert was gone. It is a pain no parent is ever prepared for and it changed them forever. They remained very supportive of me afterwards, but things were different. You can't have suicide enter your life and not have it be different.
My father-in-law's health declined over the years after Rob's suicide and he finally passed away in 2006. He never fully recovered from the loss of Rob.
My husband – Rob – father of my son: My husband Rob died by suicide at Christmas in the year 2000. He'd been the one and only love of my life for 29 years, but we had separated in Feb. 2000, yet remained working together. Our history had always been tumultuous, never a dull moment I'd always say. The spiral that led to Rob's suicide was something I could never have imagined happening to the man I'd spent most of my life with. It changed my world and everyone else's world that Rob had impact on. My son was 9 1/2 at that time, so he'd lost his Dad and he knew it was suicide. His young world changed too forever. Rob was 47 when he died.
My own biological Dad had been 48. Many similarities as Rob too was not emotionally mature, and he was diagnosed with bipolar disorder just weeks prior to his suicide after his first attempt. They say you learn your relationship skills within the first 5 years of what you're exposed to in your own childhood. I realized many years later that I had chosen my father in a husband. My life with Rob paralleled my Mom's life with my Dad in many ways. I remember she got her second chance at happiness at age 43 and I was age 43 when Rob died. It gave me hope, and yet I have not remarried or had another relationship since Rob.
Now all these many years later, I ponder and reflect on all the Fathers in my life who are no longer physically present. I no longer view Father's Day the same way because there are no Fathers left to celebrate it with. I remember when Rob died that I truly dreaded having to continue celebrating the occasion, but did so anyhow. Once my step-Dad passed away there was still my father-in-law. Once he was gone, there was no need any more.
I remember all Fathers on this day. I remember all the memories of the fathers in my life, the good, the bad and the ugly and yet I am thankful each one of them entered my life. I learned much from each one of them. My thoughts are with all Fathers on this day, those still here and those no longer here in physical form. It is a day to honour our Dads, and yet I know for some, their relationships were not good and they must contend with those memories too. There is no rule book for being a parent, or a Dad. Some are absolutely remarkable at it, others not so much – but each one is a Dad. They helped create us and gave us life.
Happy Father's Day to all the amazing Dads out there no matter where you are!
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Suicide is Preventable? Not always!
I'm a very passionate advocate for suicide prevention since losing my late husband, Rob, to suicide in December 2000. I believe so strongly in educating others about suicide and prevention. What I'm noticing a lot is that many of the suicide prevention/support groups/sites/Facebook pages, etc. make this sweeping statement that "suicide is preventable". The exact words I saw today were "Every suicide attempt is preventable and subsequent deaths are avoidable." I so don't agree with this statement.
I believe that many suicides are preventable with proper intervention and treatment, however, many are not. Today I was on a suicide prevention Facebook page that made this very statement, and there was a comment from a fellow suicide loss survivor saying "suicide is preventable? thanks for laying even more of a guilt trip on me". My heart went out to this survivor because I know exactly how a comment like that can make one feel. I also know that the only one who can make you feel guilty is YOU.
I myself never felt guilt at all. I had done more than anyone to help Rob. I also believe very strongly in always giving your loved one's name whenever mentioning your loss. After his initial attempt by firearm that resulted in a 7-8 hour police standoff and an eventual surrendering, he was incarcerated for the maximum 72 hours that laws allow for in Canada where I'm from. He was diagnosed at this time as bipolar, which explained so well what life had been like for him and for me.
Rob had mood swings all his life -- he would go on "highs" that lasted anywhere from several hours to several days, he wouldn't sleep much, he would be extremely focused almost to the point of obsession on whatever his present challenge was. He would wake up some days and just be cranky and unpredictable (lows), could fly off into a tirade or utter some totally cutting, hurtful remark. Finally having a name put to his illness, for me at least, was good. I felt now that we knew what it was, we could get him the help he needed.
My situation was unique, I've come to realize. I had been separated from Rob for about 10 months at the time of his first attempt. I had much anger toward Rob for the various actions he'd taken that impacted me directly, both personally as well as professionally, as we also shared a business together. There was much infidelity which only came out after we had separated. This was crushing for me personally, made me feel foolish for not having figured it out before then. He did some very unethical things as well while we continued working together and it all added up to me really hating him, yet still loving him.
My self-esteem was shattered from the affairs. I knew quite a few of the women personally and had been friends with a few of them, so that hit hard too. I was embarrassed that everyone at our yacht club knew what had happened, probably knew all along, and only one man had ever taken the time to tell me of his concerns with Rob and his wife. I vehemently defended Rob with all my might, saying Rob would never do that!
I truly believed this because we'd both had affairs many years earlier, mine after finding out about his, we'd both decided we wanted to remain together and put it all behind us, we both agreed never to have an affair again, that we promised we'd tell one another that if the feelings were gone and we wanted out, that we'd have the respect for one another and our marriage to talk about it and end things in a responsible, mature way. Ha! What a concept!
My life was, I thought, playing out exactly as I'd planned it: that I'd be spending the rest of my life with my first and only love, that we'd grow old together and be there for one another. I most definitely had another "think" coming! So I was hurting very deeply, our relationship of almost 29 years together had been shattered, our business was failing for many reasons, but a lot had to do with Rob's attitude and actions. Everything I knew had changed and I had a 9 1/2 year old son to care for as well.
Through all of this, I knew I was justified in my anger and hatred of what Rob had done. However, when he attempted for the first time and the psychiatrist told me how very sick he really was and now knowing it was mental illness, I put all of my own pain aside and focused only on getting Rob the help he so desperately needed. I'd always been very good at compartmentalizing and this is what I did once again.
I realized I didn't hate Rob; I hated what he had done and they are two very different things -- an important distinction which later allowed me to view suicide differently too, in that it wasn't Rob, it was his illness. I realized he was coming undone, that this strong, arrogant, confident man I'd known most of my life and loved, was no longer strong, felt such great self loathing for himself and had lost hope for any of it getting better. I knew he was in trouble and I knew I had to help.
Because of my anger, I would fluctuate from feeling very angry and burned out from it all to feeling deep compassion and caring. This was an emotional roller coaster I had never experienced before, and I'd always been fairly unemotional because of my ability to "put it aside", so I found it exhausting. I cried more in the 10 months of separation than I ever had in all our 29 years together.
When I would retreat into my anger, I would immediately remind myself that Rob was in far worse shape, could not think straight, was mentally ill, needed help and that would very quickly bring me back to my compassionate self. There were days in that last month where I couldn't take any more, where I would have to have a break from him, that I would allow myself to not be in contact as I knew I just did not have the energy, but those days were few.
Things escalated for the entire month of December 2000 after his first attempt. They spun out of control so rapidly I could hardly believe it sometimes. He attempted several more times with various methods, then we would sit in our business showroom talking about it in great detail. Rob was never one for deep conversations, but we had many during this time. We talked more in the last 6 months than we ever had in all our years together. He would describe in great detail how he attempted, what it felt like, what was going through his mind while carrying this out and how scared he was.
I was astonished by what I was being told, but did not judge. Unlike my usual self where I would cut him off and interject, I kept silent and just listened intently. When he would take a break from talking, that is when I would jump in and ask him questions. I would ask him what was it that kept him from following through? He always told me it was seeing our young son's face that stopped him, so I told him this was good, to keep visualizing that! To keep holding on knowing how it would impact our son and that seemed to be of comfort to Rob, and for me as well, if only for a little while.
In the end, I guess Rob's own pain and turmoil, loss of hope, the repetitious suicidal thoughts telling him this was his only way out of all this anguish and that we would all be better off without him - got the better of him and no vision of my son's face or anything else was strong enough to override taking his own life. I had him go to my family doctor just days before Christmas, she was not his doctor, he did not have one as he did not like seeing doctors and had been healthy prior to all this. She saw him immediately even though it was skeletal staff at this time of year, prescribed a mild sleeping pill and antidepressant, telling him it would take several weeks before the meds would kick in and possibly make a difference.
He began taking his pills and I think it gave him a small glimmer of hope as it did me, but unfortunately he didn't allow enough time to let them work and died a few days later. I'd also had a suicide prevention intervention team out to the house, they were very soft spoken, talked to him in gentle voices asking him questions that I know they needed the answers to, but I could see it wasn't helping Rob at all, that he was actually getting more irritated and so I took over, explained what had happened and that I could tell my husband was getting more upset and withdrawn as their interview progressed. They asked him if he felt they were helping and he clearly said no, so at that point, I asked Rob if he wanted them to remain and he said no, so they left.
I had done all I knew to do. I invited him to the house for dinners as I knew he was not eating well. I encouraged him to have hot relaxing baths as he could not take a bath on our boat where he resided, I even let him sleep over several times in the guest bedroom, even though I did not feel comfortable with that. I did all any wife could do, especially under the circumstances. One night while we were all asleep, he got up and went to the basement and took the shotgun that remained that I'd forgotten about. All the firearms were confiscated upon his first attempt December 6th, but I'd forgotten about that one. Rob had not forgotten.
I woke up in the morning and noticed our basement door was ajar which it never was; thought it was strange but then just shut it. Rob got up very depressed. I made breakfast and had to go into work so I asked him to please leave, as I was not comfortable leaving him in the house when I was not home because he had taken things previously. I cannot even begin to tell you how badly this made me feel telling my own husband that he had to leave his house, I knew what rough shape he was in, but also knew I had to do it as I couldn't trust him. Rob looked at me with so much pain and disbelief in his eyes, but he left. I felt terrible and so sad it had all come to this, but set the alarm and headed into work.
It was ridiculous that I was even going into work as there were no employees left, I was sitting alone in a big, 6 bay garage, had no way to take any work on even had it walked in the door. I needed to get some paperwork done so it served me well to be occupied and as this was a Saturday it was fairly quiet.
The next morning was Sunday, I did not have Rob over the night before, but think I called him to see if he was okay -- he wasn't, but was alive. I sat bolt upright in my bed and realized why the basement door had been ajar! I immediately got up, ran down and checked the rafters where he kept the shotgun, found the case and it was empty. I was furious! I couldn't believe that after all he'd put us through that he'd sneak around in the middle of the night to get the shotgun when I'd been good enough to have him over!
I immediately phoned him on the boat, told him he had 10 minutes to get that shotgun home or I'd call the police and they'd be all over his beloved boat ripping it apart looking for guns. He was home in less than 10 minutes, and rang the front doorbell. I opened it, saw him standing there like a little boy scorned holding out a green garbage bag which had the shotgun in it. I was still furious, didn't say one word, took the shotgun and closed the door. I'd had enough!
Later when telling a few friends and family, they freaked out that I'd done that saying "OMG Barb! He could have killed you, or you and your son!". I hadn't even thought of that as I knew Rob would never harm me or my son, but they couldn't understand that. Now knowing what I do about suicide and suicidal thoughts, I'd probably not have taken this chance as everyone can be unpredictable. I made sure the shotgun was out of the house the next day and that was the last firearm he had, so at least I'd removed what I could.
This was all happening days before Christmas. I was exhausted, emotionally depleted and yet had to deal with Christmas and had to attend my sister-in-law's Christmas on December 24th and Rob had promised my son he'd be there. None of us felt like going, but I was trying to give my son as "normal" a Christmas as possible, so I forced myself to. I was back in anger mode, yet was also very concerned for Rob. I thought about calling him on the boat to see if he wanted to go together to his sister's, but decided I wouldn't, that he could just bloody well get himself there.
Arrived at my sister-in-law's, no Rob. Everyone asked if I'd heard from him and I said no. They kept calling, no answer. Went ahead with opening presents, my son had a lovely time, we had a wonderful meal and as I drove home that night, it dawned on me that it was one of the nicest, calmest Christmas Eve's I'd ever had with my in-laws. I got home and thought I really should call Rob, but I didn't, I was too burned out, was mad he'd not shown up and just got into bed.
Christmas Day I got up and had had to put out a stocking for my son, he was up already, had opened that and had discovered his new scooter and was bombing around the family room on that. I was very tired, very depressed, worried about Rob and told my son to call his Dad and wish him Merry Christmas because I just couldn't. My son told me "he could call me!" and I could tell he too was hurt and mad his Dad hadn't come as promised, but I told my son to just be the bigger of the two and to remember his Dad was very sick and it would mean the world to him to hear from his son. My son called, got the answering machine and left a quick Merry Christmas message.
We never heard from Rob again, I believe he died either very late Christmas Eve or the early morning hours of Christmas Day. He had spoken to a friend late Christmas Eve so we knew he was still alive then, but I didn't find this out until later, after Rob had died. I wondered Christmas morning whether he was alive or dead, remember thinking what a bizarre thought that in itself was. I made it through Christmas Day with my family, then December 26th I barely got out of bed, thought of calling Rob but was just too wiped out and also thought he'd probably taken off with the girlfriend and forgotten all of us. We found Rob Dec. 27th, he'd been deceased for quite a while, but no real date or time of death could be determined.
I found out December 27th in the early afternoon while back in at our business doing paperwork. My son was at a friend's house playing with their daughter. One of my friends had checked the boat because I'd asked her to knock on the hull and see if Rob answered. I'd spoken to my girlfriend over Christmas and asked if she'd seen Rob, she said no movement on the boat, his car was still in the parking lot at the yacht club unmoved and covered in snow. I again figured he'd taken off with the girlfriend, that they'd reconciled and taken off for a nice Christmas together. My hurt came up again over all of the infidelities, which had also resurfaced a bit during the month of December, because all the while on the first attempt December 6th, Rob had been calling not only me, but her as well. Such a strange set of circumstances :(.
When I found out he was dead, I was not shocked; can't even say that I was surprised really, as it had been a long time coming throughout all of December. The news was so final and yet all I could muster was "It's over". I knew that life had changed forever, that for Rob his suffering was over and for me, my struggle to keep him alive was over. That day was unlike anything I've ever experienced, I can recount it in detail because it's indelibly carved into my memory forever. The next few days were a whirlwind of getting things done that needed to be done, including telling my son his Dad had died.
I never had a single moment of guilt, I can honestly say that and I know for many loss survivors, they do not feel that way; they feel incredible guilt. They feel guilty for not having seen the signs in some cases, for not trying harder, for not having done something that might have stopped their loved one from carrying out their suicide. I know what guilt can do, I know how you beat yourself up with the what-ifs, and yet it's a default so many of us go to. I watch even months and years later with many survivors how guilty they feel, what a price it's cost them and how much pain they've felt because of it. In most cases, there isn't a real reason to feel guilt. For some maybe there is and I feel so deeply for them, yet those of us who did all we could, the best we knew how - should not feel that way and yet do.
Guilt is always self inflicted. It is our thoughts that we're telling ourselves that allows guilt in. The only way I know of releasing guilt is forgiveness, and when the loss is fresh and raw, many cannot let the guilt go and are nowhere near being able to forgive. Forgiveness is not only for you, it's also to forgive the person who took their life. I believe when forgiveness comes, the guilt and anger also can leave more quickly. Everyone grieves and handles the loss differently so I've come to respect that too and just pray they can get to the point of not blaming themselves or their loved one, so that healing can begin.
The reason I started this post is because I saw "suicide is preventable". It's a statement I don't necessarily agree with for all the reasons I've given above. I do believe that awareness and having open responsible dialogue about suicide can educate and help increase the chances of prevention, both for the suicidal person and their loved ones, but it is ultimately not possible to prevent suicide from happening in every instance.
Since survivors so often feel guilt, having a blanket statement that suicide is preventable almost has an implication that survivors could or should have done something to prevent the suicide, that they should have tried harder or differently, that they didn't do enough to keep that person alive. I feel that is not a good message, as in my case and many others, this simply is not the case at all. The one survivor's comment I saw brought this all home for me, enough that I felt strongly enough about it to do this blog post. There is no blame, no shame in suicide. It is simply when someone has more pain and turmoil than they can cope with and make an unfortunate decision to take their lives to escape their pain.
I prefer to say "many suicides are preventable" with proper training, education, awareness and treatment. I'm not even comfortable assigning the word "most", because again, it can imply for some that they've done something wrong or failed the suicidal person. I'm a big stickler for correct language used around suicide and mental health; I wish those in the prevention arena would alter their expressions as well.
I know you can't think of every instance where something you say or put out there in words could possibly have a negative impact, but when within this suicide community, something so commonly used as "suicide is preventable" could surely be adapted to exclude the possibility of increasing guilt or blame. I so wish suicides were preventable completely, it just isn't the way it is, but by discussing it and having conversations about it, we can help save lives.
Would love to hear your thoughts!
I believe that many suicides are preventable with proper intervention and treatment, however, many are not. Today I was on a suicide prevention Facebook page that made this very statement, and there was a comment from a fellow suicide loss survivor saying "suicide is preventable? thanks for laying even more of a guilt trip on me". My heart went out to this survivor because I know exactly how a comment like that can make one feel. I also know that the only one who can make you feel guilty is YOU.
I myself never felt guilt at all. I had done more than anyone to help Rob. I also believe very strongly in always giving your loved one's name whenever mentioning your loss. After his initial attempt by firearm that resulted in a 7-8 hour police standoff and an eventual surrendering, he was incarcerated for the maximum 72 hours that laws allow for in Canada where I'm from. He was diagnosed at this time as bipolar, which explained so well what life had been like for him and for me.
Rob had mood swings all his life -- he would go on "highs" that lasted anywhere from several hours to several days, he wouldn't sleep much, he would be extremely focused almost to the point of obsession on whatever his present challenge was. He would wake up some days and just be cranky and unpredictable (lows), could fly off into a tirade or utter some totally cutting, hurtful remark. Finally having a name put to his illness, for me at least, was good. I felt now that we knew what it was, we could get him the help he needed.
My situation was unique, I've come to realize. I had been separated from Rob for about 10 months at the time of his first attempt. I had much anger toward Rob for the various actions he'd taken that impacted me directly, both personally as well as professionally, as we also shared a business together. There was much infidelity which only came out after we had separated. This was crushing for me personally, made me feel foolish for not having figured it out before then. He did some very unethical things as well while we continued working together and it all added up to me really hating him, yet still loving him.
My self-esteem was shattered from the affairs. I knew quite a few of the women personally and had been friends with a few of them, so that hit hard too. I was embarrassed that everyone at our yacht club knew what had happened, probably knew all along, and only one man had ever taken the time to tell me of his concerns with Rob and his wife. I vehemently defended Rob with all my might, saying Rob would never do that!
I truly believed this because we'd both had affairs many years earlier, mine after finding out about his, we'd both decided we wanted to remain together and put it all behind us, we both agreed never to have an affair again, that we promised we'd tell one another that if the feelings were gone and we wanted out, that we'd have the respect for one another and our marriage to talk about it and end things in a responsible, mature way. Ha! What a concept!
My life was, I thought, playing out exactly as I'd planned it: that I'd be spending the rest of my life with my first and only love, that we'd grow old together and be there for one another. I most definitely had another "think" coming! So I was hurting very deeply, our relationship of almost 29 years together had been shattered, our business was failing for many reasons, but a lot had to do with Rob's attitude and actions. Everything I knew had changed and I had a 9 1/2 year old son to care for as well.
Through all of this, I knew I was justified in my anger and hatred of what Rob had done. However, when he attempted for the first time and the psychiatrist told me how very sick he really was and now knowing it was mental illness, I put all of my own pain aside and focused only on getting Rob the help he so desperately needed. I'd always been very good at compartmentalizing and this is what I did once again.
I realized I didn't hate Rob; I hated what he had done and they are two very different things -- an important distinction which later allowed me to view suicide differently too, in that it wasn't Rob, it was his illness. I realized he was coming undone, that this strong, arrogant, confident man I'd known most of my life and loved, was no longer strong, felt such great self loathing for himself and had lost hope for any of it getting better. I knew he was in trouble and I knew I had to help.
Because of my anger, I would fluctuate from feeling very angry and burned out from it all to feeling deep compassion and caring. This was an emotional roller coaster I had never experienced before, and I'd always been fairly unemotional because of my ability to "put it aside", so I found it exhausting. I cried more in the 10 months of separation than I ever had in all our 29 years together.
When I would retreat into my anger, I would immediately remind myself that Rob was in far worse shape, could not think straight, was mentally ill, needed help and that would very quickly bring me back to my compassionate self. There were days in that last month where I couldn't take any more, where I would have to have a break from him, that I would allow myself to not be in contact as I knew I just did not have the energy, but those days were few.
Things escalated for the entire month of December 2000 after his first attempt. They spun out of control so rapidly I could hardly believe it sometimes. He attempted several more times with various methods, then we would sit in our business showroom talking about it in great detail. Rob was never one for deep conversations, but we had many during this time. We talked more in the last 6 months than we ever had in all our years together. He would describe in great detail how he attempted, what it felt like, what was going through his mind while carrying this out and how scared he was.
I was astonished by what I was being told, but did not judge. Unlike my usual self where I would cut him off and interject, I kept silent and just listened intently. When he would take a break from talking, that is when I would jump in and ask him questions. I would ask him what was it that kept him from following through? He always told me it was seeing our young son's face that stopped him, so I told him this was good, to keep visualizing that! To keep holding on knowing how it would impact our son and that seemed to be of comfort to Rob, and for me as well, if only for a little while.
In the end, I guess Rob's own pain and turmoil, loss of hope, the repetitious suicidal thoughts telling him this was his only way out of all this anguish and that we would all be better off without him - got the better of him and no vision of my son's face or anything else was strong enough to override taking his own life. I had him go to my family doctor just days before Christmas, she was not his doctor, he did not have one as he did not like seeing doctors and had been healthy prior to all this. She saw him immediately even though it was skeletal staff at this time of year, prescribed a mild sleeping pill and antidepressant, telling him it would take several weeks before the meds would kick in and possibly make a difference.
He began taking his pills and I think it gave him a small glimmer of hope as it did me, but unfortunately he didn't allow enough time to let them work and died a few days later. I'd also had a suicide prevention intervention team out to the house, they were very soft spoken, talked to him in gentle voices asking him questions that I know they needed the answers to, but I could see it wasn't helping Rob at all, that he was actually getting more irritated and so I took over, explained what had happened and that I could tell my husband was getting more upset and withdrawn as their interview progressed. They asked him if he felt they were helping and he clearly said no, so at that point, I asked Rob if he wanted them to remain and he said no, so they left.
I had done all I knew to do. I invited him to the house for dinners as I knew he was not eating well. I encouraged him to have hot relaxing baths as he could not take a bath on our boat where he resided, I even let him sleep over several times in the guest bedroom, even though I did not feel comfortable with that. I did all any wife could do, especially under the circumstances. One night while we were all asleep, he got up and went to the basement and took the shotgun that remained that I'd forgotten about. All the firearms were confiscated upon his first attempt December 6th, but I'd forgotten about that one. Rob had not forgotten.
I woke up in the morning and noticed our basement door was ajar which it never was; thought it was strange but then just shut it. Rob got up very depressed. I made breakfast and had to go into work so I asked him to please leave, as I was not comfortable leaving him in the house when I was not home because he had taken things previously. I cannot even begin to tell you how badly this made me feel telling my own husband that he had to leave his house, I knew what rough shape he was in, but also knew I had to do it as I couldn't trust him. Rob looked at me with so much pain and disbelief in his eyes, but he left. I felt terrible and so sad it had all come to this, but set the alarm and headed into work.
It was ridiculous that I was even going into work as there were no employees left, I was sitting alone in a big, 6 bay garage, had no way to take any work on even had it walked in the door. I needed to get some paperwork done so it served me well to be occupied and as this was a Saturday it was fairly quiet.
The next morning was Sunday, I did not have Rob over the night before, but think I called him to see if he was okay -- he wasn't, but was alive. I sat bolt upright in my bed and realized why the basement door had been ajar! I immediately got up, ran down and checked the rafters where he kept the shotgun, found the case and it was empty. I was furious! I couldn't believe that after all he'd put us through that he'd sneak around in the middle of the night to get the shotgun when I'd been good enough to have him over!
I immediately phoned him on the boat, told him he had 10 minutes to get that shotgun home or I'd call the police and they'd be all over his beloved boat ripping it apart looking for guns. He was home in less than 10 minutes, and rang the front doorbell. I opened it, saw him standing there like a little boy scorned holding out a green garbage bag which had the shotgun in it. I was still furious, didn't say one word, took the shotgun and closed the door. I'd had enough!
Later when telling a few friends and family, they freaked out that I'd done that saying "OMG Barb! He could have killed you, or you and your son!". I hadn't even thought of that as I knew Rob would never harm me or my son, but they couldn't understand that. Now knowing what I do about suicide and suicidal thoughts, I'd probably not have taken this chance as everyone can be unpredictable. I made sure the shotgun was out of the house the next day and that was the last firearm he had, so at least I'd removed what I could.
This was all happening days before Christmas. I was exhausted, emotionally depleted and yet had to deal with Christmas and had to attend my sister-in-law's Christmas on December 24th and Rob had promised my son he'd be there. None of us felt like going, but I was trying to give my son as "normal" a Christmas as possible, so I forced myself to. I was back in anger mode, yet was also very concerned for Rob. I thought about calling him on the boat to see if he wanted to go together to his sister's, but decided I wouldn't, that he could just bloody well get himself there.
Arrived at my sister-in-law's, no Rob. Everyone asked if I'd heard from him and I said no. They kept calling, no answer. Went ahead with opening presents, my son had a lovely time, we had a wonderful meal and as I drove home that night, it dawned on me that it was one of the nicest, calmest Christmas Eve's I'd ever had with my in-laws. I got home and thought I really should call Rob, but I didn't, I was too burned out, was mad he'd not shown up and just got into bed.
Christmas Day I got up and had had to put out a stocking for my son, he was up already, had opened that and had discovered his new scooter and was bombing around the family room on that. I was very tired, very depressed, worried about Rob and told my son to call his Dad and wish him Merry Christmas because I just couldn't. My son told me "he could call me!" and I could tell he too was hurt and mad his Dad hadn't come as promised, but I told my son to just be the bigger of the two and to remember his Dad was very sick and it would mean the world to him to hear from his son. My son called, got the answering machine and left a quick Merry Christmas message.
We never heard from Rob again, I believe he died either very late Christmas Eve or the early morning hours of Christmas Day. He had spoken to a friend late Christmas Eve so we knew he was still alive then, but I didn't find this out until later, after Rob had died. I wondered Christmas morning whether he was alive or dead, remember thinking what a bizarre thought that in itself was. I made it through Christmas Day with my family, then December 26th I barely got out of bed, thought of calling Rob but was just too wiped out and also thought he'd probably taken off with the girlfriend and forgotten all of us. We found Rob Dec. 27th, he'd been deceased for quite a while, but no real date or time of death could be determined.
I found out December 27th in the early afternoon while back in at our business doing paperwork. My son was at a friend's house playing with their daughter. One of my friends had checked the boat because I'd asked her to knock on the hull and see if Rob answered. I'd spoken to my girlfriend over Christmas and asked if she'd seen Rob, she said no movement on the boat, his car was still in the parking lot at the yacht club unmoved and covered in snow. I again figured he'd taken off with the girlfriend, that they'd reconciled and taken off for a nice Christmas together. My hurt came up again over all of the infidelities, which had also resurfaced a bit during the month of December, because all the while on the first attempt December 6th, Rob had been calling not only me, but her as well. Such a strange set of circumstances :(.
When I found out he was dead, I was not shocked; can't even say that I was surprised really, as it had been a long time coming throughout all of December. The news was so final and yet all I could muster was "It's over". I knew that life had changed forever, that for Rob his suffering was over and for me, my struggle to keep him alive was over. That day was unlike anything I've ever experienced, I can recount it in detail because it's indelibly carved into my memory forever. The next few days were a whirlwind of getting things done that needed to be done, including telling my son his Dad had died.
I never had a single moment of guilt, I can honestly say that and I know for many loss survivors, they do not feel that way; they feel incredible guilt. They feel guilty for not having seen the signs in some cases, for not trying harder, for not having done something that might have stopped their loved one from carrying out their suicide. I know what guilt can do, I know how you beat yourself up with the what-ifs, and yet it's a default so many of us go to. I watch even months and years later with many survivors how guilty they feel, what a price it's cost them and how much pain they've felt because of it. In most cases, there isn't a real reason to feel guilt. For some maybe there is and I feel so deeply for them, yet those of us who did all we could, the best we knew how - should not feel that way and yet do.
Guilt is always self inflicted. It is our thoughts that we're telling ourselves that allows guilt in. The only way I know of releasing guilt is forgiveness, and when the loss is fresh and raw, many cannot let the guilt go and are nowhere near being able to forgive. Forgiveness is not only for you, it's also to forgive the person who took their life. I believe when forgiveness comes, the guilt and anger also can leave more quickly. Everyone grieves and handles the loss differently so I've come to respect that too and just pray they can get to the point of not blaming themselves or their loved one, so that healing can begin.
The reason I started this post is because I saw "suicide is preventable". It's a statement I don't necessarily agree with for all the reasons I've given above. I do believe that awareness and having open responsible dialogue about suicide can educate and help increase the chances of prevention, both for the suicidal person and their loved ones, but it is ultimately not possible to prevent suicide from happening in every instance.
Since survivors so often feel guilt, having a blanket statement that suicide is preventable almost has an implication that survivors could or should have done something to prevent the suicide, that they should have tried harder or differently, that they didn't do enough to keep that person alive. I feel that is not a good message, as in my case and many others, this simply is not the case at all. The one survivor's comment I saw brought this all home for me, enough that I felt strongly enough about it to do this blog post. There is no blame, no shame in suicide. It is simply when someone has more pain and turmoil than they can cope with and make an unfortunate decision to take their lives to escape their pain.
I prefer to say "many suicides are preventable" with proper training, education, awareness and treatment. I'm not even comfortable assigning the word "most", because again, it can imply for some that they've done something wrong or failed the suicidal person. I'm a big stickler for correct language used around suicide and mental health; I wish those in the prevention arena would alter their expressions as well.
I know you can't think of every instance where something you say or put out there in words could possibly have a negative impact, but when within this suicide community, something so commonly used as "suicide is preventable" could surely be adapted to exclude the possibility of increasing guilt or blame. I so wish suicides were preventable completely, it just isn't the way it is, but by discussing it and having conversations about it, we can help save lives.
Would love to hear your thoughts!
Friday, September 9, 2011
The Way We Say the Things We Do!
September 10th is World Suicide Prevention Day and I'm doing a specific post today to honour and commemorate that. I've decided to focus on the languaging we use around suicide and mental illness. This is something I've been very aware of and conscious of since losing my husband, Rob, to suicide in Dec. 2000. Prior to that, I never really thought about it much or considered the impact some of my words could have on someone who had suffered either a loss of a loved one to suicide, or had mental illness themselves or knew someone that had either of these two examples.
I was amazed at many of the expressions or words that were in my vocabulary, things like "I should just shoot myself, or "bite the bullet", or "nutcase", "loony tunes", "they're retarded" - the list goes on and on. I work with many people who are directly impacted by suicide or mental illness, often both. I would catch myself as the words or expressions escaped my lips and I'd almost instantaneously cringe knowing the person I'd just said that to had lost someone to suicide or had mental illness.
Although I'd lost my husband to suicide and he had initially attempted with a firearm, the words relating to this did not serve as "trigger" (there's another one of those words!) for me, did not bring up any emotional pain. Within the suicide community, the word "trigger" is often used to mean "warning", an example might be a video or song saying "CAUTION MAY BE TRIGGERING". I have friends who have lost someone to suicide by firearm and many of them are extremely sensitive to any type of word that might bring up the pain of their loss. Other times you'll see a scene on TV where they show someone holding a firearm to their head and although not showing the actual use, it is inferred and you know that person took their life with a gun. So many of these examples are common place, whether on TV, newspaper ad, magazine ads, videos or any other format.
Sometimes you really have to wonder whether anyone at the decision making level had any level of comprehension at all to approve some of the things you see. When I do see an instance of inappropriate language, I am now almost compelled to let them know whether it be by a comment, email or phone call. I had one such example this past summer on Facebook. A very well known, well respected, highly successful magazine that had done an article on public speaking compared the nervousness of public speaking to committing suicide. I was appalled such a piece had escaped and been approved, but there it was in all its glory - not only on Facebook but in actual print as well.
I thought about it for a few minutes and wondered whether I should make them aware of their complete insensitivity and poor choice of words. I didn't want to publicly post it on their wall, but I did want to get my point across and make them aware. I looked on their website to see if a contact email could be found, wasn't able to find it, so I did decide to post on their Facebook wall. I was very diplomatic, told them how it was ludicrous that they'd compare the art of public speaking to committing suicide and that I found it inappropriate and assured them the severity and seriousness of someone taking their own lives was in no way comparable to the angst someone may feel before getting up to give a speech. I told them I found their post offensive and that many others would as well.
Two days went by and there was no comment, but many others on that page had "Liked" my post, it had caused some introspection. I was surprised when I suddenly got a message through Facebook from their Editor, apologizing for the use of the suicide comparison, saying they had not even considered that, but would definitely make note of it and keep it in mind for future publications. I was impressed that they'd go to this extent and thanked them for their reply. Within another hour of receiving that message, there was an actual response from the magazine itself assuring me that was not their intention and that they appreciated me bringing it to their attention. It took me all of a few minutes to compose my comment and I had raised their awareness - job done!
When it comes to the media and how they portray suicide, it is extremely upsetting to see how they release all the gory details, how they hound the survivors who are literally reeling from the shock of losing someone to suicide - yet the press still hounds them even in their most private moments and do not give them the respect, dignity or privacy they deserve. Some of the last minutes of their lives on 9-1-1 calls are openly published, again delving into the deepest, darkest hour of despair just for the sake of having the top story. It is absolutely disgusting to me and if there wasn't a market for this type of ghoulish hype, they'd all be out of business. One can only hope ;).
So as today is World Suicide Prevention Day, I ask my readers to please be more aware, more sensitive to others with what they are saying when it comes to the topics of suicide or mental illness. Show a little compassion, let the judgement go, put yourself in their shoes if just for a little while and be conscious of what's coming out of your mouth before it leaves your lips. I know it's not always easy to monitor your thoughts before speaking, but if you make a conscious decision to be more diligent, you'll be surprised yourself at how many things you're saying that could potentially have a very hurtful impact on others. Best to just rid your vocabulary of these types of words which quite often, have a negative connotation anyhow.
I was given an exercise many years ago to put an elastic band on my wrist for one week. Every time I caught myself saying or thinking something negative about myself - negative self talk - I was to snap the elastic hard enough to cause a bit of pain. Initially I was snapping that band a lot! My wrist was getting sore by day's end. I was astonished to realize just how much negative self talk was going on in my head or out of my mouth. By Day 2, I snapped a whole lot less, Day 3 barely at all and by Day 4 I'd made it almost entirely through the entire day without snapping. It sounded like a ridiculous exercise in the beginning, but it proved to be extremely telling and helpful in modifying my own negative self talk. It made me super aware of my thoughts and words in ways I'd never done before. This same exercise could be applied to help you rid yourself of inappropriate, insensitive, hurtful words or expressions when it comes to suicide or mental illness - so why not try it? See what shows up for you!
Please take a moment today, Sept. 10th to remember all those lost to suicide, almost 1 million die each year worldwide by suicide, 1 every 40 seconds. Those left behind are in complete and utter shock, pain and overwhelm, nothing could have prepared them for the journey they're about to embark on. Almost 90% of suicides involve some sort of mental illness, depression being one that is very common. Many will mark this day by lighting a candle at 8pm near a window remembering their loved ones gone, you too could help and commemorate this day this way too.
I am a passionate advocate for suicide prevention, I spend a great deal of time educating others about suicide and mental illness, helping fight the stigma that is very much alive and well even today. I do it because it is my passion - my purpose - and I feel that by telling our own personal stories we can powerfully educate others as to what a tragedy suicide truly is and in many cases, can be prevented. Awareness is more than half the battle, knowing what to look for with a friend or loved one, knowing the signs of depression, getting them the help they so desperately need is how you can help. Get involved, ask them if they're okay, spend some time and really listen and be prepared to not judge if they tell you they are depressed or suicidal. Sometimes all it takes is someone knowing they're not alone, that someone cares - it truly can make a difference. Be aware that discussing suicide will never give them the idea, and another myth is that when someone is talking about suicide - they're not serious. That is totally not true! Take every mention of suicide or not wanting to live seriously. Get them help, take them if you have to to a hospital ER, their doctor, a prevention hotline - don't ignore it.
I'm co-hosting a World Suicide Prevention Day Radio Show online call Sat., Sept. 10th 12noon - 1pm EDT and we've got 3 wonderful speakers from within the suicide prevention community. We'll be discussing teen suicide, military suicide and suicide and prevention in general. If you're free I'd love for you to listen, there is also a recording available.
For more details please check out the Event Page at:http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=243703925668579
You can LISTEN LIVE or LATER to the recording at: http://www.blogtalkradio.com/aprilclineradioshow/2011/09/10/suicide-awareness-show
Get involved, learn about suicide, help raise awareness and dispel stigma and help save lives. Suicide is everyone's concern, no one is immune. Be well - be aware!
I was amazed at many of the expressions or words that were in my vocabulary, things like "I should just shoot myself, or "bite the bullet", or "nutcase", "loony tunes", "they're retarded" - the list goes on and on. I work with many people who are directly impacted by suicide or mental illness, often both. I would catch myself as the words or expressions escaped my lips and I'd almost instantaneously cringe knowing the person I'd just said that to had lost someone to suicide or had mental illness.
Although I'd lost my husband to suicide and he had initially attempted with a firearm, the words relating to this did not serve as "trigger" (there's another one of those words!) for me, did not bring up any emotional pain. Within the suicide community, the word "trigger" is often used to mean "warning", an example might be a video or song saying "CAUTION MAY BE TRIGGERING". I have friends who have lost someone to suicide by firearm and many of them are extremely sensitive to any type of word that might bring up the pain of their loss. Other times you'll see a scene on TV where they show someone holding a firearm to their head and although not showing the actual use, it is inferred and you know that person took their life with a gun. So many of these examples are common place, whether on TV, newspaper ad, magazine ads, videos or any other format.
Sometimes you really have to wonder whether anyone at the decision making level had any level of comprehension at all to approve some of the things you see. When I do see an instance of inappropriate language, I am now almost compelled to let them know whether it be by a comment, email or phone call. I had one such example this past summer on Facebook. A very well known, well respected, highly successful magazine that had done an article on public speaking compared the nervousness of public speaking to committing suicide. I was appalled such a piece had escaped and been approved, but there it was in all its glory - not only on Facebook but in actual print as well.
I thought about it for a few minutes and wondered whether I should make them aware of their complete insensitivity and poor choice of words. I didn't want to publicly post it on their wall, but I did want to get my point across and make them aware. I looked on their website to see if a contact email could be found, wasn't able to find it, so I did decide to post on their Facebook wall. I was very diplomatic, told them how it was ludicrous that they'd compare the art of public speaking to committing suicide and that I found it inappropriate and assured them the severity and seriousness of someone taking their own lives was in no way comparable to the angst someone may feel before getting up to give a speech. I told them I found their post offensive and that many others would as well.
Two days went by and there was no comment, but many others on that page had "Liked" my post, it had caused some introspection. I was surprised when I suddenly got a message through Facebook from their Editor, apologizing for the use of the suicide comparison, saying they had not even considered that, but would definitely make note of it and keep it in mind for future publications. I was impressed that they'd go to this extent and thanked them for their reply. Within another hour of receiving that message, there was an actual response from the magazine itself assuring me that was not their intention and that they appreciated me bringing it to their attention. It took me all of a few minutes to compose my comment and I had raised their awareness - job done!
When it comes to the media and how they portray suicide, it is extremely upsetting to see how they release all the gory details, how they hound the survivors who are literally reeling from the shock of losing someone to suicide - yet the press still hounds them even in their most private moments and do not give them the respect, dignity or privacy they deserve. Some of the last minutes of their lives on 9-1-1 calls are openly published, again delving into the deepest, darkest hour of despair just for the sake of having the top story. It is absolutely disgusting to me and if there wasn't a market for this type of ghoulish hype, they'd all be out of business. One can only hope ;).
So as today is World Suicide Prevention Day, I ask my readers to please be more aware, more sensitive to others with what they are saying when it comes to the topics of suicide or mental illness. Show a little compassion, let the judgement go, put yourself in their shoes if just for a little while and be conscious of what's coming out of your mouth before it leaves your lips. I know it's not always easy to monitor your thoughts before speaking, but if you make a conscious decision to be more diligent, you'll be surprised yourself at how many things you're saying that could potentially have a very hurtful impact on others. Best to just rid your vocabulary of these types of words which quite often, have a negative connotation anyhow.
I was given an exercise many years ago to put an elastic band on my wrist for one week. Every time I caught myself saying or thinking something negative about myself - negative self talk - I was to snap the elastic hard enough to cause a bit of pain. Initially I was snapping that band a lot! My wrist was getting sore by day's end. I was astonished to realize just how much negative self talk was going on in my head or out of my mouth. By Day 2, I snapped a whole lot less, Day 3 barely at all and by Day 4 I'd made it almost entirely through the entire day without snapping. It sounded like a ridiculous exercise in the beginning, but it proved to be extremely telling and helpful in modifying my own negative self talk. It made me super aware of my thoughts and words in ways I'd never done before. This same exercise could be applied to help you rid yourself of inappropriate, insensitive, hurtful words or expressions when it comes to suicide or mental illness - so why not try it? See what shows up for you!
Please take a moment today, Sept. 10th to remember all those lost to suicide, almost 1 million die each year worldwide by suicide, 1 every 40 seconds. Those left behind are in complete and utter shock, pain and overwhelm, nothing could have prepared them for the journey they're about to embark on. Almost 90% of suicides involve some sort of mental illness, depression being one that is very common. Many will mark this day by lighting a candle at 8pm near a window remembering their loved ones gone, you too could help and commemorate this day this way too.
I am a passionate advocate for suicide prevention, I spend a great deal of time educating others about suicide and mental illness, helping fight the stigma that is very much alive and well even today. I do it because it is my passion - my purpose - and I feel that by telling our own personal stories we can powerfully educate others as to what a tragedy suicide truly is and in many cases, can be prevented. Awareness is more than half the battle, knowing what to look for with a friend or loved one, knowing the signs of depression, getting them the help they so desperately need is how you can help. Get involved, ask them if they're okay, spend some time and really listen and be prepared to not judge if they tell you they are depressed or suicidal. Sometimes all it takes is someone knowing they're not alone, that someone cares - it truly can make a difference. Be aware that discussing suicide will never give them the idea, and another myth is that when someone is talking about suicide - they're not serious. That is totally not true! Take every mention of suicide or not wanting to live seriously. Get them help, take them if you have to to a hospital ER, their doctor, a prevention hotline - don't ignore it.
I'm co-hosting a World Suicide Prevention Day Radio Show online call Sat., Sept. 10th 12noon - 1pm EDT and we've got 3 wonderful speakers from within the suicide prevention community. We'll be discussing teen suicide, military suicide and suicide and prevention in general. If you're free I'd love for you to listen, there is also a recording available.
For more details please check out the Event Page at:http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=243703925668579
You can LISTEN LIVE or LATER to the recording at: http://www.blogtalkradio.com/aprilclineradioshow/2011/09/10/suicide-awareness-show
Get involved, learn about suicide, help raise awareness and dispel stigma and help save lives. Suicide is everyone's concern, no one is immune. Be well - be aware!
Saturday, July 2, 2011
DETERMINED Decision
Haven't posted here in ages! I use this blog when I have an independent idea for a post, not something that follows a previous post. So here goes!
I set the intention last night as I went to sleep, that today I would do a blog post on “determined decision”. I have done many posts or comments on mindset, thought awareness, motivation, put the pedal to the medal, take action. I am consciously aware of my thoughts most of the time and yet I don't always apply my knowledge to get the results I want.
I have had a task to get accomplished for almost two years. It was something that would result in financial benefit for me, I needed to get it done, yet each time I approached the paperwork necessary to bring it to fruition, I always got overwhelmed, frustrated and didn't get it done.
I often wondered why I did this? Why did I procrastinate on this one task so much? Why did I approach it with such trepidation? I knew it had to be done, I knew it was just some complicated paperwork and steps I had to follow through, that it was possible to accomplish it, and yet – I brought this “fear” of not being able to complete it with me each time I picked up the paperwork and many notes I'd made on what was required.
I knew time was running out for me, that I desperately needed the money and still days, weeks would go by and I'd not take action. So finally, this past Monday I was left with no other option but to do whatever it took to get it completed and mailed off. I had that tightening in my gut that always came when I even thought about accomplishing the task. I'm extremely aware of how my body “feels” when I'm about to take on a task that I don't really want to do.
Instead of allowing that sensation to prevail, I said out loud “I am determined to get this done THIS week no matter what!”. Instead of thinking about all the confusing legal paperwork I had to complete, most of which was already done, I chunked it down to baby steps, taking it one step at a time. Instead of viewing this as some insurmountable task that I would never be able to accomplish, I took the attitude that this was just a bunch of paperwork required to get what I wanted, and I wasn't about to let something like paperwork and process get in my way.
I set myself a goal of having it done “this week”. I'd actually set the goal to be a specific day, but if I wasn't able to get it accomplished in its entirety one day, I'd allow myself to be okay with that. I wouldn't say to myself “geez you didn't do what you said you were going to do!” AGAIN! Instead, I gave myself credit for putting the time into numerous phone calls to get further clarity, I made progress and allowed myself to recognize that. I'd tell myself as I fell asleep that I was several steps closer to accomplishing my goal and would feel good about it.
I'd get up the next day knowing I still had work to do to be finished with it, but instead of my usual thoughts of overwhelm, frustration and ridiculous internal fear that I'd not be able to do this, I just told myself to quiet those thoughts, they were not true and I would proceed to go back at the paperwork again.
On the Tuesday, I truly wanted to be able to drop the entire package off at the post office and be done with it after my doctor's appointment. I realized as the time drew nearer for my appointment, that I was no where near ready to put all the documents together in an envelope and drop it off, so I told myself that was okay. That I'd get back to it once I got home and then got ready without pressure for my appointment.
I realized as I was doing all of this, that this was not the norm for me. I'd normally be beating myself up for not meeting my timeline, I'd be focusing on what I didn't want instead of what I did want. I'd have continuous negative thoughts as I showered and got ready, I'd be anxious and feeling that going to the doctor's appointment was taking away precious time that should be given toward completing my task. It was really nice not doing that to myself, to just allowing myself to relax, feel confident as I showered and got ready, that this too would get done. That it was important for the appointment which was long overdue too.
I got back home after the appointment, made several more phone calls to get clarity and double check that I'd done everything correctly. Each time I had to call, I'd have to listen to a 4 minute pre-recorded message (lordy do I hate those!) before I could even hit zero to speak to a real, live person. Normally this would frustrate the heck out of me too, but with my new mindset, I didn't allow it to bother me in the least, waited patiently to get through the message I was now almost completely able to recite from memory, and pressed zero and asked my question. Sometimes I'd no sooner hang up than I'd remember another question I'd meant to ask but had forgotten. Then I thought this is ridiculous, all these roadblocks keep coming up for me, why was it so damn difficult to get what should be a simple task done? That was my old way of thinking so I caught that immediately, and decided I'd write down every single question I had as it came to me while going over the paperwork, so that when I called again, I'd ask them all and not have to call back again.
Although I'd really wanted to be able to be finished on Tuesday, I wasn't able to and I also gave myself permission to be okay with that too. So, Wednesday morning I got up and knew I was going to have to face this insane paperwork and all it brought up for me again. I always start out each day with 5 things I'm thankful/grateful for, so today it was that I was almost finished this task, that I'd be able to complete it today. I then spoke out loud saying “Today I will finally get this done and mailed no matter what stands in my way, no matter what problems creep up, I will get it done and mailed!”
I then approached everything differently. I did one final check over the paperwork and covering letter. I made sure everything was exactly as it had to be, the company I was sending this all to even had the audacity to mention that if the paperwork was not filled out as per their requirements, that there'd be a $40 penalty fee! Didn't let that bother me, but momentarily thought how annoying and arrogant they were. As I read through one of the documents that had to be done in duplicate, I noticed a glaring error staring back at me in my own hand writing. This was a document that had to be notarized by a lawyer, so when I saw I'd entered the wrong date, my frustration came flowing right back in. Normally I'd allow this to take me out and I'd put it all down in frustration as I'd done so many times before.
This time it was different. I decided to make a call to the lawyer's office to ask whether I'd have to come back in and have the entire form redone. My lawyer was not in :(. Then I had to leave a message for another lawyer specializing in wills explaining my mistake and would she please call me. I hung up thinking why the heck had I put down the wrong date? How on earth could I have made that mistake? How had I not noticed it before now? That was my old response, so I caught that too and decided I'd just make one more call to the company I needed to send everything to, go through the message again, and as I did this, I put out a silent request to the universe that I wouldn't be delayed another day, that I'd not need a new legal document drawn up and notarized, that I'd be able to stroke out my error and initial it. As I finally got through to someone, they told me exactly that, that I could make one stroke through the wrong date, but only one stroke, they needed to be able to see what I'd originally written, then to write the correct date and initial it. I was ecstatic, thanked her profusely, hung up and made the change.
I had to also enclose a certified cheque to pay for the fee. I was pretty much completely out of money, felt like this was another roadblock to overcome. Wondered why I always hit so many roadblocks. I awoke that Wednesday realizing a government pension should have gone into my bank account automatically so I quickly checked online and sure enough it was there! Again I gave silent thanks to whoever up there was listening. I had everything completely done, checked, double checked and triple checked and only needed the certified cheque, so I put it all into an envelope and headed off to the bank.
Got to the bank teller, was taken right away (bonus!) and when I asked for a certified cheque, the teller said “You mean a bank draft?”. I said no, the company I needed the cheque for was very difficult to deal with, I wanted to do EXACTLY what their paperwork specified which was “certified” cheque. He said that's so antiquated, why wouldn't they just accept a draft or have it be payable online? I said I don't know, how much is a certified cheque? He told me it would cost $25 and that a draft was free. Again another final roadblock seemed to be coming up. I thought about it for a second, decided I'd do the draft and save the $25. The draft was done up, I left the bank thinking I hoped I'd made the right decision and wondered whether I'd better call one last time to make sure before mailing the package.
I didn't really want to have to stop off at my house before going to the post office, another "perceived roadblock", but decided I would just to be safe. Drove home, ran up to my office, called the number and waited patiently to be able to press zero and recall thinking “wow! This is the LAST time I'll have to call this stupid number!). Double checked they'd accept the draft, suggested they might want to update/change their paperwork to reflect this fact and happily went back downstairs, out the door and drove to the post office.
Having to make this final stop back to my house meant only a 10 minute delay, so again I realized my thought process about that fact initially. I got to the post office, wanted to send my two packages which were just a regular sized letter envelope and a brown manilla 8 ½ x 11 envelope to the same address but had been oh so clearly instructed NOT to send them together! I enquired on cost to send them separately, was told it would cost an additonal $10 so I decided to put them into a cardboard Express Post envelope and send them together, knowing that at the other end when the package was opened, they'd see it was two separate envelopes.
I then asked when they'd receive the package as I was sending it overnight express with signature so that I could track online when it was delivered. Canada had just finished an almost one month strike by the Post Office (another deterrent/roadblock I'd come up against) and the worker informed me that although they charged the premium for overnight delivery, that due to the backlog, they'd not be able to guarantee it would in fact be delivered next day. I knew Friday was Canada Day here so if it didn't get delivered by Thursday, it would have to wait until the following Monday. I decided that was okay too and sent it.
I got back into my car, shouted woohoo! FINALLY!!!! I got it done! I felt like a tremendous weight had lifted off my shoulders and grinned like a Cheshire cat all the way home. I gave thanks out loud for finally having accomplished what I'd had so much trouble with. I was so proud of myself for getting it done no matter what got in my way, and many things had. I took a few minutes to ponder on what was different this time, why had I been able to follow through, persevere, not get taken out? It was then I realized – it was DETERMINED DECISION! I'd made a mental promise to myself not to be taken out by anything that stood in my way.
Then I pondered on why I'd had the need to learn that same lesson again? Why was it that I, who was very acutely aware of mindfulness, attitude, thought processes - had not applied all that learned knowledge to this process eons ago? I recognized immediately that it was me who had been getting in my own way, me taking myself out, me telling myself that I couldn't possibly get this task done. I also recognized that by making a DETERMINED DECISION, that I'd set in motion a mindset that was set up to win no matter what, that I'd not get flustered or stopped by any problems that came along, that I'd get this done today no matter what!
The lesson was not lost on me. It is something I'm acutely aware of in many ways. I read tons of posts from people about mindset, what works, how to get goals accomplished, etc. I love hearing about others' successes, but kept feeling like a failure that it wasn't happening for me, whether it was this particular task or moving forward with my life and my business - following my heart. I had quite an epiphany that day. I realized that on this particular task, I'd been able to make a DETERMINED DECISION, that I'd come from that place of being able to accomplish whatever I needed to, and more importantly, that if I applied that same determination and made THAT decision with everything I wanted, I'd approach things in an entirely different way, and thereby have an entirely different outcome. An outcome I want!
I also made a DETERMINED DECISION that although this may seem a small accomplishment to some, for me it was huge! It meant I'd taken action, followed through, accomplished a goal I'd set for myself, helped myself financially and was being entirely 100% accountable! I made a decision that I would do up this blog post sharing my experience, that it was important in more ways than one for me, and that just had to be documented.
I will now employ DETERMINED DECISION to whatever I need to get done. I will remember this struggle I had as an example of what not to do with my thoughts and actions. I am thankful for the lesson repeated, because THIS time – I was ready to learn it once and for all. :).
By the way - I checked online the next morning, I'd mailed the package at 4:30pm and it had arrived and been signed for by 8:11am the next morning! Thank you Universe!
I set the intention last night as I went to sleep, that today I would do a blog post on “determined decision”. I have done many posts or comments on mindset, thought awareness, motivation, put the pedal to the medal, take action. I am consciously aware of my thoughts most of the time and yet I don't always apply my knowledge to get the results I want.
I have had a task to get accomplished for almost two years. It was something that would result in financial benefit for me, I needed to get it done, yet each time I approached the paperwork necessary to bring it to fruition, I always got overwhelmed, frustrated and didn't get it done.
I often wondered why I did this? Why did I procrastinate on this one task so much? Why did I approach it with such trepidation? I knew it had to be done, I knew it was just some complicated paperwork and steps I had to follow through, that it was possible to accomplish it, and yet – I brought this “fear” of not being able to complete it with me each time I picked up the paperwork and many notes I'd made on what was required.
I knew time was running out for me, that I desperately needed the money and still days, weeks would go by and I'd not take action. So finally, this past Monday I was left with no other option but to do whatever it took to get it completed and mailed off. I had that tightening in my gut that always came when I even thought about accomplishing the task. I'm extremely aware of how my body “feels” when I'm about to take on a task that I don't really want to do.
Instead of allowing that sensation to prevail, I said out loud “I am determined to get this done THIS week no matter what!”. Instead of thinking about all the confusing legal paperwork I had to complete, most of which was already done, I chunked it down to baby steps, taking it one step at a time. Instead of viewing this as some insurmountable task that I would never be able to accomplish, I took the attitude that this was just a bunch of paperwork required to get what I wanted, and I wasn't about to let something like paperwork and process get in my way.
I set myself a goal of having it done “this week”. I'd actually set the goal to be a specific day, but if I wasn't able to get it accomplished in its entirety one day, I'd allow myself to be okay with that. I wouldn't say to myself “geez you didn't do what you said you were going to do!” AGAIN! Instead, I gave myself credit for putting the time into numerous phone calls to get further clarity, I made progress and allowed myself to recognize that. I'd tell myself as I fell asleep that I was several steps closer to accomplishing my goal and would feel good about it.
I'd get up the next day knowing I still had work to do to be finished with it, but instead of my usual thoughts of overwhelm, frustration and ridiculous internal fear that I'd not be able to do this, I just told myself to quiet those thoughts, they were not true and I would proceed to go back at the paperwork again.
On the Tuesday, I truly wanted to be able to drop the entire package off at the post office and be done with it after my doctor's appointment. I realized as the time drew nearer for my appointment, that I was no where near ready to put all the documents together in an envelope and drop it off, so I told myself that was okay. That I'd get back to it once I got home and then got ready without pressure for my appointment.
I realized as I was doing all of this, that this was not the norm for me. I'd normally be beating myself up for not meeting my timeline, I'd be focusing on what I didn't want instead of what I did want. I'd have continuous negative thoughts as I showered and got ready, I'd be anxious and feeling that going to the doctor's appointment was taking away precious time that should be given toward completing my task. It was really nice not doing that to myself, to just allowing myself to relax, feel confident as I showered and got ready, that this too would get done. That it was important for the appointment which was long overdue too.
I got back home after the appointment, made several more phone calls to get clarity and double check that I'd done everything correctly. Each time I had to call, I'd have to listen to a 4 minute pre-recorded message (lordy do I hate those!) before I could even hit zero to speak to a real, live person. Normally this would frustrate the heck out of me too, but with my new mindset, I didn't allow it to bother me in the least, waited patiently to get through the message I was now almost completely able to recite from memory, and pressed zero and asked my question. Sometimes I'd no sooner hang up than I'd remember another question I'd meant to ask but had forgotten. Then I thought this is ridiculous, all these roadblocks keep coming up for me, why was it so damn difficult to get what should be a simple task done? That was my old way of thinking so I caught that immediately, and decided I'd write down every single question I had as it came to me while going over the paperwork, so that when I called again, I'd ask them all and not have to call back again.
Although I'd really wanted to be able to be finished on Tuesday, I wasn't able to and I also gave myself permission to be okay with that too. So, Wednesday morning I got up and knew I was going to have to face this insane paperwork and all it brought up for me again. I always start out each day with 5 things I'm thankful/grateful for, so today it was that I was almost finished this task, that I'd be able to complete it today. I then spoke out loud saying “Today I will finally get this done and mailed no matter what stands in my way, no matter what problems creep up, I will get it done and mailed!”
I then approached everything differently. I did one final check over the paperwork and covering letter. I made sure everything was exactly as it had to be, the company I was sending this all to even had the audacity to mention that if the paperwork was not filled out as per their requirements, that there'd be a $40 penalty fee! Didn't let that bother me, but momentarily thought how annoying and arrogant they were. As I read through one of the documents that had to be done in duplicate, I noticed a glaring error staring back at me in my own hand writing. This was a document that had to be notarized by a lawyer, so when I saw I'd entered the wrong date, my frustration came flowing right back in. Normally I'd allow this to take me out and I'd put it all down in frustration as I'd done so many times before.
This time it was different. I decided to make a call to the lawyer's office to ask whether I'd have to come back in and have the entire form redone. My lawyer was not in :(. Then I had to leave a message for another lawyer specializing in wills explaining my mistake and would she please call me. I hung up thinking why the heck had I put down the wrong date? How on earth could I have made that mistake? How had I not noticed it before now? That was my old response, so I caught that too and decided I'd just make one more call to the company I needed to send everything to, go through the message again, and as I did this, I put out a silent request to the universe that I wouldn't be delayed another day, that I'd not need a new legal document drawn up and notarized, that I'd be able to stroke out my error and initial it. As I finally got through to someone, they told me exactly that, that I could make one stroke through the wrong date, but only one stroke, they needed to be able to see what I'd originally written, then to write the correct date and initial it. I was ecstatic, thanked her profusely, hung up and made the change.
I had to also enclose a certified cheque to pay for the fee. I was pretty much completely out of money, felt like this was another roadblock to overcome. Wondered why I always hit so many roadblocks. I awoke that Wednesday realizing a government pension should have gone into my bank account automatically so I quickly checked online and sure enough it was there! Again I gave silent thanks to whoever up there was listening. I had everything completely done, checked, double checked and triple checked and only needed the certified cheque, so I put it all into an envelope and headed off to the bank.
Got to the bank teller, was taken right away (bonus!) and when I asked for a certified cheque, the teller said “You mean a bank draft?”. I said no, the company I needed the cheque for was very difficult to deal with, I wanted to do EXACTLY what their paperwork specified which was “certified” cheque. He said that's so antiquated, why wouldn't they just accept a draft or have it be payable online? I said I don't know, how much is a certified cheque? He told me it would cost $25 and that a draft was free. Again another final roadblock seemed to be coming up. I thought about it for a second, decided I'd do the draft and save the $25. The draft was done up, I left the bank thinking I hoped I'd made the right decision and wondered whether I'd better call one last time to make sure before mailing the package.
I didn't really want to have to stop off at my house before going to the post office, another "perceived roadblock", but decided I would just to be safe. Drove home, ran up to my office, called the number and waited patiently to be able to press zero and recall thinking “wow! This is the LAST time I'll have to call this stupid number!). Double checked they'd accept the draft, suggested they might want to update/change their paperwork to reflect this fact and happily went back downstairs, out the door and drove to the post office.
Having to make this final stop back to my house meant only a 10 minute delay, so again I realized my thought process about that fact initially. I got to the post office, wanted to send my two packages which were just a regular sized letter envelope and a brown manilla 8 ½ x 11 envelope to the same address but had been oh so clearly instructed NOT to send them together! I enquired on cost to send them separately, was told it would cost an additonal $10 so I decided to put them into a cardboard Express Post envelope and send them together, knowing that at the other end when the package was opened, they'd see it was two separate envelopes.
I then asked when they'd receive the package as I was sending it overnight express with signature so that I could track online when it was delivered. Canada had just finished an almost one month strike by the Post Office (another deterrent/roadblock I'd come up against) and the worker informed me that although they charged the premium for overnight delivery, that due to the backlog, they'd not be able to guarantee it would in fact be delivered next day. I knew Friday was Canada Day here so if it didn't get delivered by Thursday, it would have to wait until the following Monday. I decided that was okay too and sent it.
I got back into my car, shouted woohoo! FINALLY!!!! I got it done! I felt like a tremendous weight had lifted off my shoulders and grinned like a Cheshire cat all the way home. I gave thanks out loud for finally having accomplished what I'd had so much trouble with. I was so proud of myself for getting it done no matter what got in my way, and many things had. I took a few minutes to ponder on what was different this time, why had I been able to follow through, persevere, not get taken out? It was then I realized – it was DETERMINED DECISION! I'd made a mental promise to myself not to be taken out by anything that stood in my way.
Then I pondered on why I'd had the need to learn that same lesson again? Why was it that I, who was very acutely aware of mindfulness, attitude, thought processes - had not applied all that learned knowledge to this process eons ago? I recognized immediately that it was me who had been getting in my own way, me taking myself out, me telling myself that I couldn't possibly get this task done. I also recognized that by making a DETERMINED DECISION, that I'd set in motion a mindset that was set up to win no matter what, that I'd not get flustered or stopped by any problems that came along, that I'd get this done today no matter what!
The lesson was not lost on me. It is something I'm acutely aware of in many ways. I read tons of posts from people about mindset, what works, how to get goals accomplished, etc. I love hearing about others' successes, but kept feeling like a failure that it wasn't happening for me, whether it was this particular task or moving forward with my life and my business - following my heart. I had quite an epiphany that day. I realized that on this particular task, I'd been able to make a DETERMINED DECISION, that I'd come from that place of being able to accomplish whatever I needed to, and more importantly, that if I applied that same determination and made THAT decision with everything I wanted, I'd approach things in an entirely different way, and thereby have an entirely different outcome. An outcome I want!
I also made a DETERMINED DECISION that although this may seem a small accomplishment to some, for me it was huge! It meant I'd taken action, followed through, accomplished a goal I'd set for myself, helped myself financially and was being entirely 100% accountable! I made a decision that I would do up this blog post sharing my experience, that it was important in more ways than one for me, and that just had to be documented.
I will now employ DETERMINED DECISION to whatever I need to get done. I will remember this struggle I had as an example of what not to do with my thoughts and actions. I am thankful for the lesson repeated, because THIS time – I was ready to learn it once and for all. :).
By the way - I checked online the next morning, I'd mailed the package at 4:30pm and it had arrived and been signed for by 8:11am the next morning! Thank you Universe!
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Suicide Changes Everything!
Sept. 10th is World Suicide Prevention Day and I wanted to do a specific post to honour this most worthy of causes. I'm a fan of the International Association for Suicide Prevention (IASP) on Facebook who in official relations with the World Health Organization (WHO) have put this event together and it's worldwide.
I lost my husband, Rob Dec. 2000 and I can tell you it really does change everything. I was with him almost 30 years, had my whole life wrapped up with him both personally and we also shared a business together. I had no idea that things would turn out this way as he really only started falling apart in mid 2000 after we'd separated but continued working together. Our son was only 9 at the time of his passing, still believed in Santa somewhat but was aware his Dad had committed suicide - pretty strange for sure!
There was so much to do initially that it kept me quite busy, preparing for a memorial service, all the paperwork involved with a death, dealing with police and the coroner because he died on board our boat - it was quite a disaster. This all happened right at Christmas 2000, Rob died either on the 24th or early on the 25th but was not discovered until the 27th. I've done a very extensive blog with my story on Wordpress and go into much more detail as to what was going on before, during and after and if you're so inclined it's www.AllUCanbe.wordpress.com.
What I realized very quickly is that most people are totally freaked out by the term "suicide". It didn't bother me, but I was sensitive enough to read others' body language and quickly learned to say "unfortunately he took his own life" to soften the blow. I had no real prior personal experience with suicide, but knew I'd not had many conversations around the topic either. My family and Rob's family were absolutely shocked even though Rob had been severely depressed for a while and had attempted a few times in Dec. 2000. Even though you're aware attempts have been made, somehow you don't really absorb the severity of it until it is completed and final.
People offered condolences, there was an air of disbelief for those who knew Rob well, they simply couldn't believe he was gone or that he'd end his own life. Many were not aware of how emotionally unstable he'd become, but I was and after his first attempt with a firearm on Dec. 6th, he was institutionalized for several days and was then diagnosed bi-polar. I knew it as manic/depressive but the correct term or most accepted term is bi-polar. This explained so much when I learned the symptoms, the huge mood swings, compulsive buying, promiscuity and much of it because they're trying to recreate that "high" they get when they're manic, but it never can be recreated.
I have learned much since then, learned a lot about bi-polarism, mental health illnesses, institutions, treatments and so forth. There is still huge stigma attached not only to suicide, but also to mental illnesses of any sort. It's such a shame as those who truly need the help are afraid to reach out for fear of being judged, labelled or even ridiculed. Those who take their own lives are in absolute turmoil and unbelievable pain to such an extent that they believe suicide is the only way out. This just makes me so sad to think how much they suffer and what they go through to come to this conclusion. The expression - Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem - is something I shared with Rob, told him we'd get through this, that I'd help him, but he just couldn't hold on.
The grieving process for those left behind, suicide survivors is very different than normal grieving. The stigma affects not only those suffering with mental illness, it also extends to the devasted loved ones left behind. The support group whether it be family or friends is usually not comfortable discussing suicide, they'd really rather not discuss it and often times say the wrong thing or even worse - just avoid it altogether - like it never happened.
It is my passion since then to do whatever I can to help bring suicide out of the darkness, to have open dialogue about it and thereby reduce the stigma attached to it all. Along the way, I'm meeting some incredibly strong, resilient, amazing people who have been impacted by suicide. It is a bond that cannot be explained other than to those who have experienced it. We all have different stories, but the commonality of sharing a loss by suicide brings us all together.
The IASP does tremendous work in this area, they are dedicated to preventing suicidal behaviour, alleviating its effects and providing a forum for academics, mental health professionals, crisis workers, volunteers and suicide survivors. Suicide claims approximately 1 million people a year worldwide, or 1 every 40 seconds according to WHO. They say for every 1 suicide that is successful, there are 20 that are not and when you do the math - that's 21 million people per year attempting to and succeeding in ending their lives. On average 4-6 people are directly impacted being friends or family and once again doing the math - that's 126 million people worldwide are impacted by suicide - don't know about you - but for me those are absolutely shocking statistics!
I would ask you to take a moment Sept. 10th at 8pm to light a candle near a window to honour those who have been lost to suicide and for all those still contemplating it. Remember the loved ones left behind, often in complete and utter devastation and unable most times to get any real answers. My heart goes out to each and every one!
Suicide is everyone's concern, it's on the rise in our youth and our elderly. With the present economy being what it is, stress and depression increases and suicide rates increase as well. We can all make a difference, we can reduce the stigma, increase awareness and educate on what to look for and most importantly, save lives.
Here is the IASP link for activites worldwide: www.iasp.info/wspd/2010_wspd_activities.php
Here is the IASP website: www.iasp.info
I lost my husband, Rob Dec. 2000 and I can tell you it really does change everything. I was with him almost 30 years, had my whole life wrapped up with him both personally and we also shared a business together. I had no idea that things would turn out this way as he really only started falling apart in mid 2000 after we'd separated but continued working together. Our son was only 9 at the time of his passing, still believed in Santa somewhat but was aware his Dad had committed suicide - pretty strange for sure!
There was so much to do initially that it kept me quite busy, preparing for a memorial service, all the paperwork involved with a death, dealing with police and the coroner because he died on board our boat - it was quite a disaster. This all happened right at Christmas 2000, Rob died either on the 24th or early on the 25th but was not discovered until the 27th. I've done a very extensive blog with my story on Wordpress and go into much more detail as to what was going on before, during and after and if you're so inclined it's www.AllUCanbe.wordpress.com.
What I realized very quickly is that most people are totally freaked out by the term "suicide". It didn't bother me, but I was sensitive enough to read others' body language and quickly learned to say "unfortunately he took his own life" to soften the blow. I had no real prior personal experience with suicide, but knew I'd not had many conversations around the topic either. My family and Rob's family were absolutely shocked even though Rob had been severely depressed for a while and had attempted a few times in Dec. 2000. Even though you're aware attempts have been made, somehow you don't really absorb the severity of it until it is completed and final.
People offered condolences, there was an air of disbelief for those who knew Rob well, they simply couldn't believe he was gone or that he'd end his own life. Many were not aware of how emotionally unstable he'd become, but I was and after his first attempt with a firearm on Dec. 6th, he was institutionalized for several days and was then diagnosed bi-polar. I knew it as manic/depressive but the correct term or most accepted term is bi-polar. This explained so much when I learned the symptoms, the huge mood swings, compulsive buying, promiscuity and much of it because they're trying to recreate that "high" they get when they're manic, but it never can be recreated.
I have learned much since then, learned a lot about bi-polarism, mental health illnesses, institutions, treatments and so forth. There is still huge stigma attached not only to suicide, but also to mental illnesses of any sort. It's such a shame as those who truly need the help are afraid to reach out for fear of being judged, labelled or even ridiculed. Those who take their own lives are in absolute turmoil and unbelievable pain to such an extent that they believe suicide is the only way out. This just makes me so sad to think how much they suffer and what they go through to come to this conclusion. The expression - Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem - is something I shared with Rob, told him we'd get through this, that I'd help him, but he just couldn't hold on.
The grieving process for those left behind, suicide survivors is very different than normal grieving. The stigma affects not only those suffering with mental illness, it also extends to the devasted loved ones left behind. The support group whether it be family or friends is usually not comfortable discussing suicide, they'd really rather not discuss it and often times say the wrong thing or even worse - just avoid it altogether - like it never happened.
It is my passion since then to do whatever I can to help bring suicide out of the darkness, to have open dialogue about it and thereby reduce the stigma attached to it all. Along the way, I'm meeting some incredibly strong, resilient, amazing people who have been impacted by suicide. It is a bond that cannot be explained other than to those who have experienced it. We all have different stories, but the commonality of sharing a loss by suicide brings us all together.
The IASP does tremendous work in this area, they are dedicated to preventing suicidal behaviour, alleviating its effects and providing a forum for academics, mental health professionals, crisis workers, volunteers and suicide survivors. Suicide claims approximately 1 million people a year worldwide, or 1 every 40 seconds according to WHO. They say for every 1 suicide that is successful, there are 20 that are not and when you do the math - that's 21 million people per year attempting to and succeeding in ending their lives. On average 4-6 people are directly impacted being friends or family and once again doing the math - that's 126 million people worldwide are impacted by suicide - don't know about you - but for me those are absolutely shocking statistics!
I would ask you to take a moment Sept. 10th at 8pm to light a candle near a window to honour those who have been lost to suicide and for all those still contemplating it. Remember the loved ones left behind, often in complete and utter devastation and unable most times to get any real answers. My heart goes out to each and every one!
Suicide is everyone's concern, it's on the rise in our youth and our elderly. With the present economy being what it is, stress and depression increases and suicide rates increase as well. We can all make a difference, we can reduce the stigma, increase awareness and educate on what to look for and most importantly, save lives.
Here is the IASP link for activites worldwide: www.iasp.info/wspd/2010_wspd_activities.php
Here is the IASP website: www.iasp.info
Monday, August 9, 2010
Tribute to my Stepdad and Mom
Today I called my Mom as I always do each morning. We had our usual chat, then she told me when she got up this morning she felt down and that it was the 6 year anniversary of her husband, my stepdad's passing. She said she misses him terribly and thinks of him still almost every day.
She said she wasn't feeling up to going to exercise class, but that she might join the others for coffee after the class or go down for Happy Hour today. I told her it was very self aware that she recognized how she was feeling and why, and more importantly - that she's choosing to take steps to elevate her mood.
My Mom is 80, I talk to her often about positive thinking and using tools to get yourself out of a funk. I was thrilled she had come up with this on her own. We don't always see eye to eye on things as she comes from an entirely different era, but I was so pleased she knew to do something social for herself today, which isn't her norm.
We talked about my stepdad, what a great guy he was, how much of a friend he was to her and that you never forget the memories you had with someone you spent a great deal of time with and loved. It's natural to miss those who have departed, and I suggested she also take time today to remember all the good times with him and not only that he passed away.
My stepdad was more of a father to me than my biological father who passed away when I was about 14. He was always very supportive of me even when he didn't agree with what I was doing. He treated me like his daughter, and I was always so thankful my Mom met him and they had many good years together.
My stepdad passed from cancer and he had a very rough time of it in the end. He handled the cancer with such dignity and grace, didn't complain much at all even though he was suffering. I remember visiting him just a short while before he passed away. He wasn't able to keep food down so was pretty much on liquids and even that sometimes didn't sit well. I'd just arrived for my visit with my Mom and he had to throw up.
I held the basin for him, there was no embarrassment, I was glad to be able to help. Afterwards he told me "this dying sucks" and that's pretty much the only time I heard him say anything like that. I was glad he felt comfortable enough to be able to say that to me, and I felt such compassion and love for him at that time.
My brother, my step-sister, my Mom and I all went to visit him the day before he passed. He was not awake anymore, was quite heavily sedated for the pain, but a wonderful nurse came into his room and said, just talk to him, tell him what you want to say and tell him it's okay for him to go. My step-sister seemed quite upset by this at first, but she too took her turn. I thought it was lovely and always felt that even though they weren't alert and coherent, they can still hear and that it would be comforting to him.
We all took turns talking to him, told him our thoughts, told him we loved him and that it was okay if he wanted to go now. It was highly emotional, but felt right. That night, my Mom decided to stay over in his hospital room on a cot, something she'd never done. We were worried she wouldn't get a proper night's sleep as she hadn't been sleeping well, but we didn't argue and she stayed. It was almost like she had an intution about it, as he passed away that very night. She awoke to not hearing him breathe, got up to check him and realized he was gone. He'd gone very peacefully and when I got the call early the next morning, I truly felt he'd been hanging on for all of us and after hearing we all said it's okay to go, he had.
I talked to my Mom today about the strange things people say thinking they're helping, like just don't dwell on it, or it's been 6 years time to let it go, etc. I told her it's perfectly natural to remember someone who had such a huge influence on your life and that it's okay to grieve and miss them, but to also remember all the wonderful times too. She said she still often thinks of her own father and he's been gone since she was 13 or so. I told her he too had huge impact on her life and had taught her well. Our memories keep them alive for us.
I know my Mom is very lonely and misses her best friend and partner. I am forever thankful she got a second chance at marriage and had a good one. I also know it's very hard on the elderly, my Mom feels a bit like there's not much purpose in life since my stepdad passed away, but she's a survivor and is doing the best she can to move forward and create a new life without him. For that I admire her.
In closing, I miss my stepdad too, he was someone you could really count on for anything. Advice, support or just a willing ear to listen and bounce things off of. He never judged me, would offer his opinion, but didn't get upset if I didn't heed his advice. I remember him fondly and with love, and am thankful he was in my life and am thinking of and celebrating him today.
She said she wasn't feeling up to going to exercise class, but that she might join the others for coffee after the class or go down for Happy Hour today. I told her it was very self aware that she recognized how she was feeling and why, and more importantly - that she's choosing to take steps to elevate her mood.
My Mom is 80, I talk to her often about positive thinking and using tools to get yourself out of a funk. I was thrilled she had come up with this on her own. We don't always see eye to eye on things as she comes from an entirely different era, but I was so pleased she knew to do something social for herself today, which isn't her norm.
We talked about my stepdad, what a great guy he was, how much of a friend he was to her and that you never forget the memories you had with someone you spent a great deal of time with and loved. It's natural to miss those who have departed, and I suggested she also take time today to remember all the good times with him and not only that he passed away.
My stepdad was more of a father to me than my biological father who passed away when I was about 14. He was always very supportive of me even when he didn't agree with what I was doing. He treated me like his daughter, and I was always so thankful my Mom met him and they had many good years together.
My stepdad passed from cancer and he had a very rough time of it in the end. He handled the cancer with such dignity and grace, didn't complain much at all even though he was suffering. I remember visiting him just a short while before he passed away. He wasn't able to keep food down so was pretty much on liquids and even that sometimes didn't sit well. I'd just arrived for my visit with my Mom and he had to throw up.
I held the basin for him, there was no embarrassment, I was glad to be able to help. Afterwards he told me "this dying sucks" and that's pretty much the only time I heard him say anything like that. I was glad he felt comfortable enough to be able to say that to me, and I felt such compassion and love for him at that time.
My brother, my step-sister, my Mom and I all went to visit him the day before he passed. He was not awake anymore, was quite heavily sedated for the pain, but a wonderful nurse came into his room and said, just talk to him, tell him what you want to say and tell him it's okay for him to go. My step-sister seemed quite upset by this at first, but she too took her turn. I thought it was lovely and always felt that even though they weren't alert and coherent, they can still hear and that it would be comforting to him.
We all took turns talking to him, told him our thoughts, told him we loved him and that it was okay if he wanted to go now. It was highly emotional, but felt right. That night, my Mom decided to stay over in his hospital room on a cot, something she'd never done. We were worried she wouldn't get a proper night's sleep as she hadn't been sleeping well, but we didn't argue and she stayed. It was almost like she had an intution about it, as he passed away that very night. She awoke to not hearing him breathe, got up to check him and realized he was gone. He'd gone very peacefully and when I got the call early the next morning, I truly felt he'd been hanging on for all of us and after hearing we all said it's okay to go, he had.
I talked to my Mom today about the strange things people say thinking they're helping, like just don't dwell on it, or it's been 6 years time to let it go, etc. I told her it's perfectly natural to remember someone who had such a huge influence on your life and that it's okay to grieve and miss them, but to also remember all the wonderful times too. She said she still often thinks of her own father and he's been gone since she was 13 or so. I told her he too had huge impact on her life and had taught her well. Our memories keep them alive for us.
I know my Mom is very lonely and misses her best friend and partner. I am forever thankful she got a second chance at marriage and had a good one. I also know it's very hard on the elderly, my Mom feels a bit like there's not much purpose in life since my stepdad passed away, but she's a survivor and is doing the best she can to move forward and create a new life without him. For that I admire her.
In closing, I miss my stepdad too, he was someone you could really count on for anything. Advice, support or just a willing ear to listen and bounce things off of. He never judged me, would offer his opinion, but didn't get upset if I didn't heed his advice. I remember him fondly and with love, and am thankful he was in my life and am thinking of and celebrating him today.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Do You Take the Time to Tell Them you Care?
The thought came to me recently that I don't always tell someone I care about that I do on a regular basis. Take my Mom for example. I talk to her twice a day every day just to check in and see how she's doing. She's a remarkable woman, 3 time cancer survivor and is still recovering from her last bout with mouth cancer at 80. It took its toll on her and she seems a little down with life lately, so I make it a point to connect each day, and see her in person at least once a week.
What I realized is that when she was battling her various cancers, I always ended each conversation or departure with "I Love You", or just "Love You!". Now that she's over the hurdle, I noticed that I don't say that as much so that got me to wondering why. My thoughts are that when I realized I may lose her to any of these 3 cancer illnesses, it made me very aware that I did love her very much and couldn't envision my life without her in it, even though I know eventually she will not be alive.
When the high drama of cancer was present, the acute awareness was more developed and I made sure on every opportunity that I told her I loved her. Now that the risk is not as high, I slacked off and don't tell her as often. We never were a mushy, gushy emotionally expressive pair, but when I heard her say to me just the other night "Love You", I immediately responded with "yes I love you too Mom" and it felt so good to be able to say it.
Now that I had this thought about it, I will make it a point to go right back to expressing it every chance I get. I also make a point to tell her how strong she is, that she's a 3 time survivor and that she needs to give herself more credit than she does. I think it embarrasses her a bit, but I just know she loves to hear it, who wouldn't?
So my challenge to you is, tell someone you really care about how you feel about them today! Don't wait for an appropriate time, just do it today. Words have such a remarkable impact!
What I realized is that when she was battling her various cancers, I always ended each conversation or departure with "I Love You", or just "Love You!". Now that she's over the hurdle, I noticed that I don't say that as much so that got me to wondering why. My thoughts are that when I realized I may lose her to any of these 3 cancer illnesses, it made me very aware that I did love her very much and couldn't envision my life without her in it, even though I know eventually she will not be alive.
When the high drama of cancer was present, the acute awareness was more developed and I made sure on every opportunity that I told her I loved her. Now that the risk is not as high, I slacked off and don't tell her as often. We never were a mushy, gushy emotionally expressive pair, but when I heard her say to me just the other night "Love You", I immediately responded with "yes I love you too Mom" and it felt so good to be able to say it.
Now that I had this thought about it, I will make it a point to go right back to expressing it every chance I get. I also make a point to tell her how strong she is, that she's a 3 time survivor and that she needs to give herself more credit than she does. I think it embarrasses her a bit, but I just know she loves to hear it, who wouldn't?
So my challenge to you is, tell someone you really care about how you feel about them today! Don't wait for an appropriate time, just do it today. Words have such a remarkable impact!
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