Two Years

     Two years.  It's been nearly two years since the worst day of my life.  It's supposedly a milestone marker when the paralyzing grip of grief lifts and you are able to live "normally" again.  At least that's what all the people who have not lived through it say. That is what people who are not a suicide loss survivor may say.  What they don't realize is there is no time line.  Grief is ongoing and ebbs and flows in waves no one can predict or control. The more you try to get a grip the more the relentless waves  overwhelm you.  I have learned the better choice is to yield, keep afloat, and allow the waves to wash over you. Feel the power and the fear and the loss --and then passively allow that which seeks to overwhelm you subside into the surf.  It's always there and you know it will return. But the momentary peace is pleasant and you learn to negotiate the intrepid waters of grief better with the passage of time.
     I am sitting here watching the NFC championship.  I am not some avid football fan.  Prior to February of 2015 I was a casual Patriot's fan.   When they started kicking butt, I started paying attention.  Willow however-- she was a diehard fan.  She LOVED her football.  I still remember going to her brother's high school football games and leaping to her feet and cheering when the team made a good play.  She was my cousin--7 years older than me and I looked up to her in so many ways.  However, growing up next to her we really grew up like sisters and became life long best friends.
     So here I sit, watching the NFC game to find out who will play our beloved Patriots in the Superbowl-- because that is what Willow would have done.  I do other things in her honor too. When given the choice between good coffee and mediocre cheap coffee-- I choose the good coffee.  When my kids ask if they can use up the can of whipped cream on their waffles-- I say yes now.  When I can wear one of the sweaters, shawls, hats, mittens or scarves she knit for me-- I do. They encircle me and comfort me like a warm hug from my sister over the horizon.  
     Two years.  In some ways those 730 days seem eternal.  In other ways-- my last memories of her seem raw for she is forever frozen in time in the final moments I saw her.  I have analyzed those final moments a million times.  What signs did I miss? What could I have done?  If I could only go back.... These are the haunting questions every suicide loss survivor shares and shapes their special brand of pain.  Suicide is one of the leading preventable causes of death. With prevention comes responsibility and unfortunately the guilt of that prevention often rests squarely on the shoulders of those left in the wake, surviving a suicide loss.  However, what is also true is that we as a society must all make access to mental healthcare and knowing the signs of mental distress a priority.  These skills are easier to learn and act on when you are not in a crisis.  In much the same way as we all learn CPR and the Heimlich maneuver in order to aid loved ones in an unexpected time of crisis--we all need to know the signs of mental distress and where to get help BEFORE a loved one is exhibiting signs of depression, anxiety, or suicidal action.  We all have a responsibility to tear down the stigma that prevents people from getting help. 
     I encourage everyone in the hearing of this blog to attend a free Community Mental Health Awareness Night 2/1/17 at 7:00 PM in Dover, NH.  We have assembled 7 mental health and suicide prevention advocacy groups in one place for an unprecedented forum where lifesaving information will be shared.  Suicide prevention is everyone's business for in your lifetime it is statistically highly likely you will be touched by suicide in one way or another.  Don't wait.  Get informed today and register!

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