What an incredibly horrible day for the country and you had that added now to your history. I’m so sorry. Your truth and honesty in Chuckie’s death I trust has helped so many. It has touched me in profound ways. Thank you. I remember how many times you have wished “May this day land gently “ to so many. I send that wish back to you and that your memories of love can comfort you in his continuance. 💜
Every time I read your writing, no matter the subject or what kind of day I'm having, I come away feeling a little more comforted and hopeful. Even with everything else in the world, today is no exception. Thank you for sharing a bit of Chuckie with us and may his memory be a blessing.
Im crying too...my son's birthday is June 28th and he has attempted suicide twice.. He's 30 now but it will always hang over my head as a future possibility. I am so sorry for your loss. It is truly tragic and heartbreaking.
I can so relate to you. My son has contemplated it....there is nothing you can say....but know no matter what it is not your fault. There are some things we just can't give our kids...or in this case, take away from them. It is a horrible disease.
Oh Susan, my heart is reaching out to yours, sending love and tender compassion. Mine chose to leave June 15th, ‘89, when he was 43, leaving two heartbroken children, 16 and 19. Through the years, he came to me in dreams, to let me know he was healing, in ways he’d been unable to do while still on earth. Once he revealed through a dream visit, our daughter who’d struggled with addictions was returning to her art. She did some months later. And he sent other messages of encouragement for our son.
I’m so sorry for your loss and the losses of everyone whose loved one died by suicide. It’s heart rending and complicated, and I don’t believe the grief and pain ever go away.
Grief is something we wear and carry forever. Speaking of it is a gift, but a tough one for many to understand. Thank you for your courage. So sorry for the pain.
Our son died in a car accident in September 2018 (on his honeymoon). The loss of those who hold dear changes us, and the grief is our daily companion. I made a conscious decision early on that I would focus on how he lived, rather than that he died. One of the brutally hard parts is that he never met his little niece and nephew, now 5 and 2. The 2 year old I’d definitely Michael’s nephew, so his mama will need to be on her toes. We work to honor Michael in how we live, and I see over and over how you honor Chuckie with your life. Today is the perfect day to honor him and step away from this week’s craziness. Peace to you and all of your family.
I went through a very dark period about 4 years ago. I experienced a total loss of motivation to anything and everything, followed by six months that are completely lost to me. I recall contemplating leaving this life, not out of misery or suffering, but because it seemed to make the most sense at that time. I couldn't see myself returning to a useful role in life. What chastened me was knowing I'd leave behind a bunch of hurt and confusion amongst my loved ones, leaving without explanation, without "cleaning up" behind me. But, I reviewed every common means of taking my life, rejecting all but one, which would have left an "immaculate corpse"; not much after which to clean up.
Now, four years later, I understand that state differently than I would have prior to experiencing it first hand. I see essentially ALL of the value in life in terms of relationships, rather than "usefulness" or even success in common terms. I learned that just "being" and "being there for others" is the gift, the endowment that I was given at birth. I didn't earn it, don't know precisely how I deserved to be endowed with it, but it is a common gift AND responsibility to others, simply to be alive and to attempt to lift up others with a smile, words of encouragement, friendship and to a select few persons, all the love I can muster.
However, I know intimately how the reason, the validation for being alive, for staying alive, can escape you. Externalities, as well as things deep inside can line up in a way that there just doesn't seem to be a pathway forward. People might think that the profoundly depressed individual is suffering. I didn't recognize that I was suffering. I just ran out of motivation to keep working when big forces outside myself lined up against me. I came to the conclusion that something external would have to come along to rescue me, probably purely by chance, or I'd just fade away. It seemed easy, in fact. however, I didn't think that others would accept it in the manner I was prepared to, and I didn't even have the motivation to personally carry out my plan. Eventually the ECT and the medicine kicked in and I began to take a bit of interest in life again. I would say, 3 years later, I'm still on a pathway back towards finding joy in simple things in life. I can't find it in what's going on in the greater world, our national current events, our politics. I can only find it in little things; little plants and flowers, small critters that live amongst them, things full of life and possibility, but with little or no power. I have come to despise the pursuit of power.
"I have come to despise the pursuit of power." - Yes, to this. " ... finding joy in simple things in life" becomes a thread binding so many of us together: one of the reasons, I suspect, that many of us come here to this wonderful, safe space that Connie has created and that all of us nurture. I don't know you personally but, I feel the intimacy of you in your words and, I'm SO glad you felt safe enough to share them here. Be well. Always.
My oldest brother committed suicide in 1987 at the age of 60. We lost the brother who was next in age to me at 27 due to pancreatic cancer. My next to the oldest brother died of a massive heart attack at the age of 49. My poor mother outlived all three of her sons. I grieve for all of them still.
thank you for sharing. It is never clear what would have saved all those who thought there was no way out, but eliminating the stigma and shame is a good place to start.
Connie, I am 81 years old and I have never experienced the pain that you and your sister did. I pray I never do. But someone needed to read this today - maybe many someones. Thank you so much for sharing this.
My 31 year old son attempted suicide about 5 years ago. He has since promised he wouldn't do it again while I'm alive, but I live every day wondering if I'll get that phone call. It's crushing.
What an incredibly horrible day for the country and you had that added now to your history. I’m so sorry. Your truth and honesty in Chuckie’s death I trust has helped so many. It has touched me in profound ways. Thank you. I remember how many times you have wished “May this day land gently “ to so many. I send that wish back to you and that your memories of love can comfort you in his continuance. 💜
Every time I read your writing, no matter the subject or what kind of day I'm having, I come away feeling a little more comforted and hopeful. Even with everything else in the world, today is no exception. Thank you for sharing a bit of Chuckie with us and may his memory be a blessing.
I'm crying. My husband died by suicide when he was about the same age as Chuckie. The anniversary of his death is June 28..
Im crying too...my son's birthday is June 28th and he has attempted suicide twice.. He's 30 now but it will always hang over my head as a future possibility. I am so sorry for your loss. It is truly tragic and heartbreaking.
He is in my prayers.
Thank you 🙏
I can so relate to you. My son has contemplated it....there is nothing you can say....but know no matter what it is not your fault. There are some things we just can't give our kids...or in this case, take away from them. It is a horrible disease.
Oh, Susan. How hard the end of June must be for you. So sorry.
Thank you.
I'm so sorry. I lost my son to suicide at 34.
God continues to test us. Carry on for your son in your image. Kate
I can't imagine. My heart goes out to you as well.
I am very sorry.
I'm sorry for your loss.
Oh Susan, my heart is reaching out to yours, sending love and tender compassion. Mine chose to leave June 15th, ‘89, when he was 43, leaving two heartbroken children, 16 and 19. Through the years, he came to me in dreams, to let me know he was healing, in ways he’d been unable to do while still on earth. Once he revealed through a dream visit, our daughter who’d struggled with addictions was returning to her art. She did some months later. And he sent other messages of encouragement for our son.
I’m so sorry for your loss and the losses of everyone whose loved one died by suicide. It’s heart rending and complicated, and I don’t believe the grief and pain ever go away.
I hope you always talk about Chuckie, and that you always learn new things, and I'm glad Sherrod (literally here) has your back.
Grief is something we wear and carry forever. Speaking of it is a gift, but a tough one for many to understand. Thank you for your courage. So sorry for the pain.
Thank you for putting words to what I also wanted to say.
Our son died in a car accident in September 2018 (on his honeymoon). The loss of those who hold dear changes us, and the grief is our daily companion. I made a conscious decision early on that I would focus on how he lived, rather than that he died. One of the brutally hard parts is that he never met his little niece and nephew, now 5 and 2. The 2 year old I’d definitely Michael’s nephew, so his mama will need to be on her toes. We work to honor Michael in how we live, and I see over and over how you honor Chuckie with your life. Today is the perfect day to honor him and step away from this week’s craziness. Peace to you and all of your family.
I believe he is watching over your family each and every day. Carry on for him....
I went through a very dark period about 4 years ago. I experienced a total loss of motivation to anything and everything, followed by six months that are completely lost to me. I recall contemplating leaving this life, not out of misery or suffering, but because it seemed to make the most sense at that time. I couldn't see myself returning to a useful role in life. What chastened me was knowing I'd leave behind a bunch of hurt and confusion amongst my loved ones, leaving without explanation, without "cleaning up" behind me. But, I reviewed every common means of taking my life, rejecting all but one, which would have left an "immaculate corpse"; not much after which to clean up.
Now, four years later, I understand that state differently than I would have prior to experiencing it first hand. I see essentially ALL of the value in life in terms of relationships, rather than "usefulness" or even success in common terms. I learned that just "being" and "being there for others" is the gift, the endowment that I was given at birth. I didn't earn it, don't know precisely how I deserved to be endowed with it, but it is a common gift AND responsibility to others, simply to be alive and to attempt to lift up others with a smile, words of encouragement, friendship and to a select few persons, all the love I can muster.
However, I know intimately how the reason, the validation for being alive, for staying alive, can escape you. Externalities, as well as things deep inside can line up in a way that there just doesn't seem to be a pathway forward. People might think that the profoundly depressed individual is suffering. I didn't recognize that I was suffering. I just ran out of motivation to keep working when big forces outside myself lined up against me. I came to the conclusion that something external would have to come along to rescue me, probably purely by chance, or I'd just fade away. It seemed easy, in fact. however, I didn't think that others would accept it in the manner I was prepared to, and I didn't even have the motivation to personally carry out my plan. Eventually the ECT and the medicine kicked in and I began to take a bit of interest in life again. I would say, 3 years later, I'm still on a pathway back towards finding joy in simple things in life. I can't find it in what's going on in the greater world, our national current events, our politics. I can only find it in little things; little plants and flowers, small critters that live amongst them, things full of life and possibility, but with little or no power. I have come to despise the pursuit of power.
"I have come to despise the pursuit of power." - Yes, to this. " ... finding joy in simple things in life" becomes a thread binding so many of us together: one of the reasons, I suspect, that many of us come here to this wonderful, safe space that Connie has created and that all of us nurture. I don't know you personally but, I feel the intimacy of you in your words and, I'm SO glad you felt safe enough to share them here. Be well. Always.
I've been there. It would have hurt my children and I thank God I did not go thru with it.
Chuckle loved you, Con. The central tragedy and mystery of life is this: Too often, we cannot help those we love the most. Thank you for writing this.
My oldest brother committed suicide in 1987 at the age of 60. We lost the brother who was next in age to me at 27 due to pancreatic cancer. My next to the oldest brother died of a massive heart attack at the age of 49. My poor mother outlived all three of her sons. I grieve for all of them still.
You have become them. Carry on for them.
Bloody hell
I hope your telling the story helps you as much as reading it helps others. 💙
My brother at 46. Then my dad at 93. Double member of this club no one ever wants to join. And guns make it far too easy.
My dad at 87 with a gun. Horrible. He used the noise of fireworks on NYE to conceal it. A neighbor found him. (((HUGS)))
Hugs to you as well.
thank you for sharing. It is never clear what would have saved all those who thought there was no way out, but eliminating the stigma and shame is a good place to start.
Connie, I am 81 years old and I have never experienced the pain that you and your sister did. I pray I never do. But someone needed to read this today - maybe many someones. Thank you so much for sharing this.
As you often tell us: May the day land gently for you.❤️
Oh Connie. Thank you for your strength and your vulnerability. Peace to you.
My 31 year old son attempted suicide about 5 years ago. He has since promised he wouldn't do it again while I'm alive, but I live every day wondering if I'll get that phone call. It's crushing.