Recommendation, Read–Poorna Bell’s, “In the End, There Is Only Room For Love”

On my Facebook feed this morning, I saw the BringChange2Mind status post, linking me to Poorna Bell‘s Huffingpost UK’s blog post, In the End, There Is Only Room For Love, dated June 25, 2015.

Tears spilled down my cheeks as I read her story.  Perhaps you too will connect with it.

P. Bell said, about the aftermath of her husband’s suicide:

I think the anger comes from not knowing we were on rations. It is fuelled by the guilt we all felt.

We should have hugged you more, spent time with you, memorised every part of you, told you we loved you – had just one more day with you – because deep down, we feel that if we did that, you wouldn’t have killed yourself.

The point I am trying to make is that I get it. With suicide, what feels like a choice to other people was not a choice for you. Our love – and you had an ocean of people who felt that way about you – was not going to anchor you to this world when you felt there was no possibility, no hope.

She writes beautifully of her experience.

I saw you in everything. I saw you in the sea, imagining you in the shift, turn and swirl of water. I saw you at your graveside, in the freesias you so loved. I saw you in the birds you had encyclopaedic knowledge about, in the double rainbows that lit the sky the day we said goodbye to you.

I am touched by her words. Thank you P. Bell for sharing.

 

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Two Organizations Work To Decrease the Stigma of Mental Health Issues & Suicide

Yesterday, the organization called, BringChange2Mind shared a link on Facebook, of an art exhibit called, Man-Up Against Suicide, being held at the Foster Eastman Gallery in Vancouver.  I watched, Dr. John Oliffe, describe the exhibit in the YouTube video, “Man-Up Against Suicide-Depression Documentary,” on the Men’s Depression and Suicide Network. (Warning–YouTube automatically posts recommended videos on the right side of their site that may differ from the tone/purpose of the link).

The featured artists lives were touched by suicide. Some talked about dealing with their own thoughts, others of family/friends contemplation or completion of suicide.

One speaker, Doug, talked about his friend, Ron, (3:32) having thoughts of suicide. He described his friend as a “very strong person…very warm heart, very kind, very giving, but he doesn’t see that in himself.   Here’s this…shiny happy person on the outside, but there’s a lot of darkness and turmoil going on within him.” This was my experience of Dave. I’m attracted and others are too, to Dave’s Continue reading

Aftermath part 5: Discharged

Dave’s checking out today.  It’s unclear to me if he’ll be coming home with me or if he’s going to stay with his sister.   His sister told him on a visit that instead of ending it all (’cause he’s living with me) he should just come and live with her.

As we walk out, Dave said he’s optimistic.  He’s had time to think.  He’s glad to be alive.

I’m driving and Dave tells me Continue reading

Aftermath part 3: The first visit.

As soon as I sit beside him, Dave says, “Kate, I’m not supposed to be here. I’m not supposed to be here.”  Tears roll down his cheeks.  He looks depleted.  Defenseless. Defeated. Hopeless.  Tears roll down my cheeks, “I know, I know.”

He needs more time.  He hasn’t Continue reading

“Maybe I should be dead”

Last night:  It’s late.  I towel dry my hair.  I walk toward Dave, he shuts the TV off and  says, “Shall we go to bed?”

I lie next to him. He props his  head up with his arm and looks at me.  He fills me in about what happened between him and Beth earlier in the evening.  I’m sleepy, but I try to pay attention.  I perk up when he says, Continue reading

Life with a suicidal spouse–seasons of private heartache

Anxious. Helpless. Panicked. Desperate. Exposed. Ashamed. Regretful.  Self-critical. Guilty. Misunderstood. Hurt. Rejected. Frustrated. Manipulated. Resentful. Envious. Discouraged. Pessimistic. Confused. Loving. Hating.

Living with a suicidal person floods me with disorienting emotions.  As I see my husband walling me off, anxiety, helplessness, and panic kick in.  During the search for my husband or after calling the police, feelings of our secret being exposed and a few blaming eyes bore deep shame into me.  After an attempt or an event of spiraling downward, I am regretful, self-critical and guilty over the last statements I said to him, that maybe those statements pushed him to the edge.  As he’s in the hospital sharing story after story of how I contributed to his pain, I feel hurt, rejected, frustrated, manipulated, resentful.

Envy.  What’s that doing on the list?  It was hard to list. I feel selfish and embarrassed to list it.  But the attention he gets from family, friends, medical staff, our therapist–can make me feel invisible and deeply hurt.  I think it’s important to keep in mind the trauma an attempt or his teetering to the edge can cause to those closest to him.

Tears spill down my cheeks as I wonder “Do I call for help now or will he be okay?”   Tears spill as I drive to visit him in the hospital.  Tears of fear, hurt, anger, and sadness.

I start doubting the relationship. Discouragement, pessimism fills my mind with thoughts of “This is never going to change,” and “Why me?”  Fears of “I’ll be left alone one day” and thoughts of “maybe I should get out now” swirl in my mind.

Confusion.  Love and hate.  Both exist at the same time.  I love him.  I do.  He’s caring, kind, thoughtful.  At the same time I hate his moods and actions–callous, detached, rejecting.

His suicidal ideation and depression affects our daughter–she’s been getting into trouble at school.  How does a tween handle the ups and downs of her dad?  We try to keep it hidden from her–but of course she senses something.  She’s expressing it the best way she can right now.

Invisible.  It is with my husband’s permission that I start this blog.  He understands how isolated and alone I feel.  Yet I post apprehensively as I fear my husband may read this blog and think that he is causing me pain that could put him on the path to “I’m a disappointment, I’m a failure” and send him spiraling closer to the edge.

In the safety of anonymity –I am trying to find a place to give myself a voice and not feel so alone.  Up until a few years ago no one knew the private pain I lived with. To the outside world my marriage looked ideal.   My husband and I hid our pain well.  But one night he almost took his life and our pain went public (to our families and friends).

This blog is an informal place for me to process my thoughts.  I’m beginning tonight, I hope at what is the tail-end of a couple weeks of uncertainty about my husband’s stability.

My blogging will probably be triggered by in-the-moment events, therapy sessions, feelings of falling apart, despair, lack of control, and helplessness.  But I also want to write about hope, faith, love, and grace.

I share my experiences but my way is not THE way.  My way is what works for me at this time.  Having an understanding/empathetic therapist, supportive/encouraging friends, and a strong church group has gotten me through the toughest times.

On the one hand, if you’re reading this blog and feel hopeless and suicidal then get help.  Call a crisis hotline (National 1-800-784-2433/1-800-273-8255) or 911, or check yourself into a hospital.  On the other hand,  this site is not meant to give out professional advice so if you’re struggling with dealing with a depressed/suicidal spouse, feelings of guilt, hopelessness, etc. then talk to a psychologist or marriage and family therapist or other mental health professional.  Speaking to a professional is one way I’ve taken care of myself (self-care) and I highly encourage it.

I take the first step today to making my pain a little more public.  Thanks for listening.