The Darkness
When I thought about writing this blog, I messaged my friend, Tina, about it first. I tend to bounce things off her as I know she'll be honest with me. Her response was:" I think that’s a great idea! It’s going to b tough but like u said real and raw! And u never know it may help someone!"
I've got to post a disclaimer here: this blog isn't going to be all unicorns and rainbows, my friends. I thought writing "Fatty Sara" was tough but that was a piece of cake compared to what I'm about to share with you but if it can help even one person, it's worth the tears shed as I write this.
In 1999, we had a devastating loss to our family. A beloved family member who, for the purpose of this post will be referred to as LW, took his life. To say it was a shock is a total understatement; one person once stated that it must have felt like a baseball bat to the back of the head and that statement is so f*cking true. When you hear the words "He killed himself", the pain you feel is immeasurable. It's like someone has torn open your torso and ripped your heart and guts right out of you. You feel raw and lost and so damn angry--angry at God, at the world and at the person who chose death over life. How could he do this to his family and friends who loved him so incredibly much? Why did this happen? He was such a fun, smart, happy guy! WHAT HAPPENED????
LW had the best sense of humor and we would always pick on each other which was how we showed our affection for each other. When we were younger, we'd often spend some of our summer vacation time at his house with his wife and young kids. They treated us like their own and spoiled us. The first time I ever rode on a roller coaster was with LW and it was amazing. He laughed at the fear then joy on my face and as the coaster came to a halt he asked, "Wanna go again?" Of course I did! LW was always up for fun and he was one of our favorite people on the planet.
The last time I saw LW, you could tell something was wrong. We thought he was having a heart attack but realized later that he had suffered a panic attack after he forgot how to find my sister's house. He was pale and having a hard time breathing and had to lie down when he got to the house and I remember we all looked at each other like, "What's going on? Something is just not right!" He told my Dad he was struggling at his new job and my Dad told him, "Quit your job. You're fine financially and you'll find something else so quit that damn job!" None of us liked seeing how he had changed but we had no idea what was to come. We had no idea that he was sick and struggling.
Two days later, that dreaded call came. My Mom called my office after trying to get ahold of my Dad first but he was on his phone. It was 4:36 p.m. and Mom was sobbing as she said "LW tried to kill himself!" You don't believe it when you first hear it. How can that be??? Not LW! No way! I ran crying into my Dad's office and told him and he said, "Dammit! I knew something wasn't right!" He told me to get to the house as Mom was watching my niece and nephew. I drove from the office and the whole way over, I prayed so hard. I pleaded with God to let him be okay. He had to be okay but he wasn't okay. When his wife called, I was at my parent's house waiting with Mom for news. My Mom cried into the phone, "No no no! I can't believe it! He can't be gone!" I remember dropping to my knees on the kitchen floor and covering my face with my hands and I couldn't stop crying. It seemed like a nightmare. His wife had found him in his car in the garage. There was no note and to this day, I'm not sure if that's a good thing or bad thing. Is it better to know or isn't it? Would it make the pain less or more?
My parents drove over to LW's house that night and I went home alone to my apartment. I was confused and sad and so damn angry!. I made a call to a friend who was "very" Catholic as LW had been. Years later she would tell me that my call shocked her as I was frantic when I said, "LW killed himself and he's Catholic and I need to know if he can still have a Catholic funeral!" She said it baffled her since I'm not a religious person at all and it seemed like I was terrified he couldn't have a Catholic funeral. It seriously was the first thing I said to her when she answered the phone. To this day, I have no idea why that was so damn important to me.
The next day, I went to LW's house. I was dreading it. I cried the whole way over thinking if I got it out in the car, I'd be totally fine once I got there. Yeah, right. I walked in the house and it was so quiet. My Mom greeted me at the door with a hug and told me LW's wife and son were upstairs sleeping (they'd both been given something to help them sleep). Mom and I sat down at the table and I just kept asking her why this happened and she just kept saying, "I don't know, Sara. I wish I knew."
A little while later, LW's wife came downstairs. She looked like a zombie. She hugged me tight and we sat at the table together holding hands and not speaking until I finally said, struggling to hold it together and failing, "I am so damn mad at him for doing this!" She started to cry and said, "I'm so damn mad at him for making me find him!"
We got through the rest of the day by staying busy; planning a funeral is a lot of work and calling friends and family members to give them the horrendous news takes a lot out of you but it's almost cathartic. The business of it all kind of takes a bit of the devastation away...for a little bit. I was tasked with writing the obituary as my Mom said, "You're a good writer and you can do this." WTH, Mom! No pressure, right? That obituary was so long by the time I got done with it they had to edit it by half to put in the local paper. Well; there was a lot to say about him and I wanted to do him justice!
Wakes and funerals really suck, you know that? I really hate wakes especially open casket wakes. The last vision I want of someone I love is not of them in their damn casket. As Mom and I stood by the casket, for some reason I had this weird urge and I whispered to Mom, "Why do I want to touch his ear?" Seriously, I wanted to tug on his ear! Maybe I thought if I did that, he would pop up and say, "Gotcha!"? I don't know but it was really effed up that that's what I wanted to do. His spirit was probably right next to me, urging me to do it. He was a prankster, that LW.
We got through the wake and the funeral and that just left the military cemetery burial a few days after the funeral. I picked my Mom up and I remember saying to her, "This will be easy compared to everything else we've just been through." HA! We stood in this little building and his urn was placed on this stand with a folded American flag laid on top of it and I lost my sh*t. I couldn't stop sobbing as I looked at that damn urn and flag. How had a man larger than life been reduced to that little box???
After the wake, the funeral, the burial service, we tried to get back to normal but the question remained: WHY DID HE DO THIS? And we later found the answer:
He had recently been diagnosed as bi-polar. And he didn't want anyone to know.
Twenty years ago, mental health just really wasn't discussed and being a proud man, I believe he didn't want to burden anyone with what he was going through. I wish he'd known that we would have done anything in our power to help him no matter what. We would have moved heaven and earth.
Through this tragedy, I found out that another loved one had suffered from mental health issues but no one discussed it. It seems this man had been stopped several times on his way out to the barn with a noose. And, for sure, way back when that would have happened, no one would have ever even thought to discuss it.
I was on a trip with some friends shortly after LW left us and my friend said to me, "Do you mind me asking about LW?" Oh my God; I was so glad that someone wanted to know the truth! I wanted to talk openly about it and let people know what an amazing human he was and why he did what he did! I think we talked about it for a good solid hour and the relief I felt telling someone not only about how he passed but how he lived brought me so much peace. I have never, ever been embarrassed by his death and never been afraid to talk about it if anyone asks about it. To this day, I am still so incredibly proud that he was, and still is, a part of my life through the incredibly fun times and the most horrible time.
Why did I write this blog? I think that mental illness is still very stigmatized in our society even to this day. I think many of us are too damn proud to reach out for help when we need it and we have to stop that. If you need therapy, get therapy! If you need anti-depressants, get them! If you just need someone to listen, call me! We all have dark days and, sadly, some just can't see that there will be brighter days ahead. We need to focus on mental illness as a disease just as cancer or ALS or Alzheimers is a disease and like many diseases, mental illness does not discriminate.
We need to step out of the darkness and into the light when it comes to mental health. We need to not be afraid to reach out when we need a hand. If you think the world would be a better place without you in it, believe me when I say that you are so wrong.
I've got to post a disclaimer here: this blog isn't going to be all unicorns and rainbows, my friends. I thought writing "Fatty Sara" was tough but that was a piece of cake compared to what I'm about to share with you but if it can help even one person, it's worth the tears shed as I write this.
In 1999, we had a devastating loss to our family. A beloved family member who, for the purpose of this post will be referred to as LW, took his life. To say it was a shock is a total understatement; one person once stated that it must have felt like a baseball bat to the back of the head and that statement is so f*cking true. When you hear the words "He killed himself", the pain you feel is immeasurable. It's like someone has torn open your torso and ripped your heart and guts right out of you. You feel raw and lost and so damn angry--angry at God, at the world and at the person who chose death over life. How could he do this to his family and friends who loved him so incredibly much? Why did this happen? He was such a fun, smart, happy guy! WHAT HAPPENED????
LW had the best sense of humor and we would always pick on each other which was how we showed our affection for each other. When we were younger, we'd often spend some of our summer vacation time at his house with his wife and young kids. They treated us like their own and spoiled us. The first time I ever rode on a roller coaster was with LW and it was amazing. He laughed at the fear then joy on my face and as the coaster came to a halt he asked, "Wanna go again?" Of course I did! LW was always up for fun and he was one of our favorite people on the planet.
The last time I saw LW, you could tell something was wrong. We thought he was having a heart attack but realized later that he had suffered a panic attack after he forgot how to find my sister's house. He was pale and having a hard time breathing and had to lie down when he got to the house and I remember we all looked at each other like, "What's going on? Something is just not right!" He told my Dad he was struggling at his new job and my Dad told him, "Quit your job. You're fine financially and you'll find something else so quit that damn job!" None of us liked seeing how he had changed but we had no idea what was to come. We had no idea that he was sick and struggling.
Two days later, that dreaded call came. My Mom called my office after trying to get ahold of my Dad first but he was on his phone. It was 4:36 p.m. and Mom was sobbing as she said "LW tried to kill himself!" You don't believe it when you first hear it. How can that be??? Not LW! No way! I ran crying into my Dad's office and told him and he said, "Dammit! I knew something wasn't right!" He told me to get to the house as Mom was watching my niece and nephew. I drove from the office and the whole way over, I prayed so hard. I pleaded with God to let him be okay. He had to be okay but he wasn't okay. When his wife called, I was at my parent's house waiting with Mom for news. My Mom cried into the phone, "No no no! I can't believe it! He can't be gone!" I remember dropping to my knees on the kitchen floor and covering my face with my hands and I couldn't stop crying. It seemed like a nightmare. His wife had found him in his car in the garage. There was no note and to this day, I'm not sure if that's a good thing or bad thing. Is it better to know or isn't it? Would it make the pain less or more?
My parents drove over to LW's house that night and I went home alone to my apartment. I was confused and sad and so damn angry!. I made a call to a friend who was "very" Catholic as LW had been. Years later she would tell me that my call shocked her as I was frantic when I said, "LW killed himself and he's Catholic and I need to know if he can still have a Catholic funeral!" She said it baffled her since I'm not a religious person at all and it seemed like I was terrified he couldn't have a Catholic funeral. It seriously was the first thing I said to her when she answered the phone. To this day, I have no idea why that was so damn important to me.
The next day, I went to LW's house. I was dreading it. I cried the whole way over thinking if I got it out in the car, I'd be totally fine once I got there. Yeah, right. I walked in the house and it was so quiet. My Mom greeted me at the door with a hug and told me LW's wife and son were upstairs sleeping (they'd both been given something to help them sleep). Mom and I sat down at the table and I just kept asking her why this happened and she just kept saying, "I don't know, Sara. I wish I knew."
A little while later, LW's wife came downstairs. She looked like a zombie. She hugged me tight and we sat at the table together holding hands and not speaking until I finally said, struggling to hold it together and failing, "I am so damn mad at him for doing this!" She started to cry and said, "I'm so damn mad at him for making me find him!"
We got through the rest of the day by staying busy; planning a funeral is a lot of work and calling friends and family members to give them the horrendous news takes a lot out of you but it's almost cathartic. The business of it all kind of takes a bit of the devastation away...for a little bit. I was tasked with writing the obituary as my Mom said, "You're a good writer and you can do this." WTH, Mom! No pressure, right? That obituary was so long by the time I got done with it they had to edit it by half to put in the local paper. Well; there was a lot to say about him and I wanted to do him justice!
Wakes and funerals really suck, you know that? I really hate wakes especially open casket wakes. The last vision I want of someone I love is not of them in their damn casket. As Mom and I stood by the casket, for some reason I had this weird urge and I whispered to Mom, "Why do I want to touch his ear?" Seriously, I wanted to tug on his ear! Maybe I thought if I did that, he would pop up and say, "Gotcha!"? I don't know but it was really effed up that that's what I wanted to do. His spirit was probably right next to me, urging me to do it. He was a prankster, that LW.
We got through the wake and the funeral and that just left the military cemetery burial a few days after the funeral. I picked my Mom up and I remember saying to her, "This will be easy compared to everything else we've just been through." HA! We stood in this little building and his urn was placed on this stand with a folded American flag laid on top of it and I lost my sh*t. I couldn't stop sobbing as I looked at that damn urn and flag. How had a man larger than life been reduced to that little box???
After the wake, the funeral, the burial service, we tried to get back to normal but the question remained: WHY DID HE DO THIS? And we later found the answer:
He had recently been diagnosed as bi-polar. And he didn't want anyone to know.
Twenty years ago, mental health just really wasn't discussed and being a proud man, I believe he didn't want to burden anyone with what he was going through. I wish he'd known that we would have done anything in our power to help him no matter what. We would have moved heaven and earth.
Through this tragedy, I found out that another loved one had suffered from mental health issues but no one discussed it. It seems this man had been stopped several times on his way out to the barn with a noose. And, for sure, way back when that would have happened, no one would have ever even thought to discuss it.
I was on a trip with some friends shortly after LW left us and my friend said to me, "Do you mind me asking about LW?" Oh my God; I was so glad that someone wanted to know the truth! I wanted to talk openly about it and let people know what an amazing human he was and why he did what he did! I think we talked about it for a good solid hour and the relief I felt telling someone not only about how he passed but how he lived brought me so much peace. I have never, ever been embarrassed by his death and never been afraid to talk about it if anyone asks about it. To this day, I am still so incredibly proud that he was, and still is, a part of my life through the incredibly fun times and the most horrible time.
Why did I write this blog? I think that mental illness is still very stigmatized in our society even to this day. I think many of us are too damn proud to reach out for help when we need it and we have to stop that. If you need therapy, get therapy! If you need anti-depressants, get them! If you just need someone to listen, call me! We all have dark days and, sadly, some just can't see that there will be brighter days ahead. We need to focus on mental illness as a disease just as cancer or ALS or Alzheimers is a disease and like many diseases, mental illness does not discriminate.
We need to step out of the darkness and into the light when it comes to mental health. We need to not be afraid to reach out when we need a hand. If you think the world would be a better place without you in it, believe me when I say that you are so wrong.
Just another soul lost in America
I was so frustrated and I got so lonely
It almost took a miracle to open up my eyes
World Start Turning (turn into the wind)
World Start Turning (some things were never meant to be)
I've been standing on the beach
Crying to the raging sea
I was falling, falling
Heart start beating (turn into the wind)
Heart start beating (some things were never meant to be)
Made a promise to myself
I'll never get that low again
You can't stop the world, can't stop the world
Never could settle for where I was
Too many places I was trying to be
The times I succeeded and the times I failed
You know that no one will remember but me
World Star Turning
from the album "Rock of Life"
Rick Springfield
(Rick wrote this song in the throes of depression as he has suffered from and continues to survive with it.)
(Rick wrote this song in the throes of depression as he has suffered from and continues to survive with it.)
National Suicide Prevention Hotline: 800-273-8255
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