Today I realized, with surprising pain, that it's been 4 years.
4 years since he kissed me. 4 years since my battle with boys started and the abuse ensued at hands not of my family. 4 years since I realized that G-d wouldn't save me from everything the way I thought He would.
Today, of all days, it hit me with the force that it had when it first happened. It hit me like a head-on collision with a train. Like one thousand anvils crushing me from all directions. Like the weight of the world is sitting on my rib cage, keeping me from taking any more breaths, yet I am forced to keep going. Forced to keep breathing, and living, and surviving. Forced to continue on in this world when nobody cares. Nobody gives a flying f#ck if I were to wake up each day.
Still, I wake up. Day after day I show up to younglife, to work, to bible study, and to my other obligations. I show up for people who don't care. People who wouldn't notice if I were never to show up again. I show up for people who have hundreds of other people that they could lean on, should lean on, because it's an inconvenience for them to meet with me. I'm a hassle, an inconvenience, and a thorn.
4 years ago, my world was shattered. It began a path of my delusions being stripped away, my hope in a better life being crushed, and my desire for a husband and a family began to fade. Slowly, these hopes and dreams became painful wounds, scars to be reopened hundreds of times since. I discovered that I don't matter. My boundaries, my voice, my wants, and my "no" doesn't matter. I realized that my feeble support system was incapable of seeing me through the realness of life.
It came to my attention that life isn't a love story, it's not some great romance. Life, maybe not yours but mine, is not some fairy tale. My life is simply something to be survived. There is no knight in shining armor. G-d won't protect me from the evil in this world. I can't find happiness, despite trying everything everyone and my counselor has suggested. My life isn't supposed to be one of the top 5, I'm not supposed to be important, and my deepest desires to know people and to be known, won't be realized.
Happy endings are for other people. Love is for other people. Miracles that show them day after day that G-d saves them, is for other people. My life is about the realization that tragedies lie around every corner. That loneliness won't kill you with any type of speed, and that major depression is a lifelong fight that nobody will show up to help you defeat. My life is about showing grace and forgiveness to others, but being constantly beat down. My life is about learning to deal with disappointments so much that you stop hoping. I'm a top student in the university of being there for others who have no qualms with pushing me aside. I am a master at being invisible, learning to deal with lives crushing blows alone, and surviving years alone.
Thursday, February 14, 2019
Friday, February 1, 2019
Suicide
Yesterday, I mourned the loss of a 19 year old young man. I didn't personally know the guy, but my YoungLife students had had classes with him. They were friends with him.
The devastation in their eyes was heart wrenching, because I've been there.
I sat there, listening to them try to process the heaviness of losing such a young friend. I listened to the stories, and the questions, and the tears. My heart broke listening to his younger sister's recounting of his last day as he tried to spend some time with his sister before he left. I listened to the ways he quietly, silently, said his goodbyes. His sister said he made his bed. He never made his bed, but he made it before he went on his last late night drive.
I called my mom as I headed over to the crisis hangout after getting the news. One of my students requested we have a time to be able to facilitate them being together to process, cry, or just be with each other through their hurting. She asked me if I was okay. At the time, I was like, "of course I'm fine, I'm worried about my kids!" Then she asked if I was being triggered and she told me o be careful driving, especially with all of this going through my bead during my hour drive to the meet-up. (The hour drive is because I'm temporarily required to be out of my roommate's house due to construction, so I'm staying with my dad.) I told her that I would be careful and that I was feeling okay. She told me to call if I needed anything.
At first, hanging up, I was touched, but a little confused. Why was she so concerned about my triggers? We haven't talked much about this. She knows how hard it was when Country Boy died, because she received my millions of phone calls as I tried to process his suicide. However, she normally doesn't seem to acknowledge my traumas, and she doesn't really use the lingo. As I continued to drive, and process (because driving is a time brains commonly use to process due to the eye movements), I began to cry. I had memories, flashbacks, and tears my whole drive. I was glad for the time in my car to be able to sit with memories and feelings. I had time to sing worship songs and pray. The tears could come and I could prepare.
My heart hurts.
While talking to these sweet students, I learned that it was the 5th suicide of a friend for some of them and the 10th suicide for others. A 14 year-old lost her brother. A mom and dad lost their only son. A cop witnessed someone take their own life as he turned to get his business card.
This young man experienced such immense hurting and darkness in his life that he felt he had no way out.
At the ripe old age of 19. Fresh out of high school and life was imploding for him. His days felt like his life held no hope, no way out of his problems and pain. He felt he had no lifeline.
Yet, his friends and family and even people he doesn't even know are all reeling in his wake.Tears are being poured out for this immense loss. There is a hole in hundreds of people's hearts. There are rippled of effects from the drop in this pool of community. He experienced the loss of a couple of close friends by suicide. No doubt adding to the pain he experienced. But, for him, this seemed to be his only solution.
My heart breaks. My heart breaks for the loss of my friend. The shoulda, coulda, woulda's are still painful for me. Though there is not the same intensity at the sting of the loss of him, there are still moments I think I see him. Or times I believe I see his truck. Memories of him as I drive the roads and see the places I visited with him.
My heart breaks for his family and friends that will now have to try to continue on in life without his presence. They will have to battle with their own regrets and replaying of his final months. They will battle against denial, sadness, guilt, anger, questions, fuzzy memories, and wondering why. Faith will be called into question. The benevolence of G-d will be scrutinized. is parent's marriage will be tested like never before and his sisters will forever grieve with the rest of his family as they meet each milestone along the remainder of their lives.
They will be haunted by his memories, his smell, his room, and his pictures.
I am grieved for them that they are beginning this long and arduous journey. This path that nobody want to travel and nobody can prepare for. You can get help along the way, but ultimately each of his loved ones that he left behind are having to fight through the darkness he left behind.
I can see his side, within reason. And I've been on the grieving end. Even still, it all hurts. No matter what, it sucks. It sucks because a life was taken far too early. A life was lost way before he grew old.
There was a choice to end his suffering, that also ended in suffering.
I don't believe the choice he made was entirely selfish. I don't think he made the choice to be revengeful or to hurt anyone else. I also don't believe this was a choice he made lightly. He tried to ease the minds of those he left behind. No doubt it grieved him, thinking about those that would be hurt by his passing. Chances are, he didn't realize how many would be effected by his choice to leave this world.
My heart hurts for him. My heart hurts for the many, many others that I have grieved for that have died by suicide.
Now, I ask that you join with me to pray for his family and friends. Remember them as you continue on. Remember those you've lost or who have been impacted by the heaviness and pain caused by suicide. Pray for the parents, siblings, and friends of those who have passed on in such a manor. Remember that we all carry pains that nobody else knows about. Please, please, try to use your filter of grace to see these events when you encounter them. Me, of all people (who becomes angry at the need to use my grace goggles sometimes) is pleading with you to consider the pain of those that died.
Also use gentle words when attempting to comfort those left behind. It's okay to say nothing. It's okay to say that you are sorry for their loss. It's okay to tell them that you are hurting for them. Don't tell them suicide is selfish, it's not.
My heart is hurting.
The devastation in their eyes was heart wrenching, because I've been there.
I sat there, listening to them try to process the heaviness of losing such a young friend. I listened to the stories, and the questions, and the tears. My heart broke listening to his younger sister's recounting of his last day as he tried to spend some time with his sister before he left. I listened to the ways he quietly, silently, said his goodbyes. His sister said he made his bed. He never made his bed, but he made it before he went on his last late night drive.
I called my mom as I headed over to the crisis hangout after getting the news. One of my students requested we have a time to be able to facilitate them being together to process, cry, or just be with each other through their hurting. She asked me if I was okay. At the time, I was like, "of course I'm fine, I'm worried about my kids!" Then she asked if I was being triggered and she told me o be careful driving, especially with all of this going through my bead during my hour drive to the meet-up. (The hour drive is because I'm temporarily required to be out of my roommate's house due to construction, so I'm staying with my dad.) I told her that I would be careful and that I was feeling okay. She told me to call if I needed anything.
At first, hanging up, I was touched, but a little confused. Why was she so concerned about my triggers? We haven't talked much about this. She knows how hard it was when Country Boy died, because she received my millions of phone calls as I tried to process his suicide. However, she normally doesn't seem to acknowledge my traumas, and she doesn't really use the lingo. As I continued to drive, and process (because driving is a time brains commonly use to process due to the eye movements), I began to cry. I had memories, flashbacks, and tears my whole drive. I was glad for the time in my car to be able to sit with memories and feelings. I had time to sing worship songs and pray. The tears could come and I could prepare.
My heart hurts.
While talking to these sweet students, I learned that it was the 5th suicide of a friend for some of them and the 10th suicide for others. A 14 year-old lost her brother. A mom and dad lost their only son. A cop witnessed someone take their own life as he turned to get his business card.
This young man experienced such immense hurting and darkness in his life that he felt he had no way out.
At the ripe old age of 19. Fresh out of high school and life was imploding for him. His days felt like his life held no hope, no way out of his problems and pain. He felt he had no lifeline.
Yet, his friends and family and even people he doesn't even know are all reeling in his wake.Tears are being poured out for this immense loss. There is a hole in hundreds of people's hearts. There are rippled of effects from the drop in this pool of community. He experienced the loss of a couple of close friends by suicide. No doubt adding to the pain he experienced. But, for him, this seemed to be his only solution.
My heart breaks. My heart breaks for the loss of my friend. The shoulda, coulda, woulda's are still painful for me. Though there is not the same intensity at the sting of the loss of him, there are still moments I think I see him. Or times I believe I see his truck. Memories of him as I drive the roads and see the places I visited with him.
My heart breaks for his family and friends that will now have to try to continue on in life without his presence. They will have to battle with their own regrets and replaying of his final months. They will battle against denial, sadness, guilt, anger, questions, fuzzy memories, and wondering why. Faith will be called into question. The benevolence of G-d will be scrutinized. is parent's marriage will be tested like never before and his sisters will forever grieve with the rest of his family as they meet each milestone along the remainder of their lives.
They will be haunted by his memories, his smell, his room, and his pictures.
I am grieved for them that they are beginning this long and arduous journey. This path that nobody want to travel and nobody can prepare for. You can get help along the way, but ultimately each of his loved ones that he left behind are having to fight through the darkness he left behind.
I can see his side, within reason. And I've been on the grieving end. Even still, it all hurts. No matter what, it sucks. It sucks because a life was taken far too early. A life was lost way before he grew old.
There was a choice to end his suffering, that also ended in suffering.
I don't believe the choice he made was entirely selfish. I don't think he made the choice to be revengeful or to hurt anyone else. I also don't believe this was a choice he made lightly. He tried to ease the minds of those he left behind. No doubt it grieved him, thinking about those that would be hurt by his passing. Chances are, he didn't realize how many would be effected by his choice to leave this world.
My heart hurts for him. My heart hurts for the many, many others that I have grieved for that have died by suicide.
Now, I ask that you join with me to pray for his family and friends. Remember them as you continue on. Remember those you've lost or who have been impacted by the heaviness and pain caused by suicide. Pray for the parents, siblings, and friends of those who have passed on in such a manor. Remember that we all carry pains that nobody else knows about. Please, please, try to use your filter of grace to see these events when you encounter them. Me, of all people (who becomes angry at the need to use my grace goggles sometimes) is pleading with you to consider the pain of those that died.
Also use gentle words when attempting to comfort those left behind. It's okay to say nothing. It's okay to say that you are sorry for their loss. It's okay to tell them that you are hurting for them. Don't tell them suicide is selfish, it's not.
My heart is hurting.
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