Tag Archives: suicide

Six Years

Today is your birthday.

Six years ago today, you were at a BBQ, celebrating, acting as though you’d made the turn and were finally seeing the light in life again. Six years ago today, you looked happy in all the photos that were taken.

Those pictures are the last we have of you. Whatever joy you may have found in that day was later sapped away and the grip of depression retained its wicked hold on you. In a matter of weeks, DAYS, we found ourselves staring at those photos with tears streaming down our faces.

Many times over these last years, I’ve asked myself why? How could you? What was the final straw that broke your back? I’ve alternated between anger that you would leave me to find you like that and hurt that you didn’t reach out to me. I WAS IN THE VERY NEXT ROOM.

Through my own battles with depression, I know you couldn’t see far enough out of the pit to see how much we all loved you, how much we would miss you. I know if you had thought of me finding you that morning, you would never have made that fatal decision. You would never have intentionally hurt me like that.

But even knowing that, I’m still hurt. I’m still angry. And I harbor a deep, cutting hatred for HER. Depression’s lies and taunts hurt badly enough without having them repeated back to you by the one person who is supposed to love you the most. I can never forgive her for pushing you further that night.

You’ve missed a lot in these last six years. More babies have been born, we have more nieces and nephews for you to love on. My own son has grown so much! He may one day rival you for height. We’ve all moved, had relationships come together and fall apart. Our parents have bought a new home and gotten new dogs. Your dad is going to pin Chief this year. And I’m going to be married next year.

You’ve left a void, Ty, that can’t be filled. There’s a darkness in your dad’s eyes, an emptiness in my mother’s soul. Our sisters miss your camaraderie, my son misses his favorite uncle. I miss my brother, my friend.

You’d be 30 today. We’d probably have another BBQ, they were your favorite. There would be water fights maybe, definitely more photos. We’d have tons of great food, maybe you and I would swap a few new recipes. You and my fiance could talk music, Kim would make you one of her famous cakes, you and Stepf would maybe plan some kind of special thing for your dad’s pinning ceremony.

Most of all, you’d be here. And you’d be smiling.

**If you or someone you know is struggling with depression, please know that help is available. 1-800-273-TALK is a 24 hour hotline. Please call. Please reach out. Suicide is NEVER the answer.

#DayOfLight -It’s A Real Struggle

Today I’m joining up with my gal Andrea and other awesome bloggers for #DayOfLight

Depression is a very real thing, yo.

And for those of us battling chronic illness, it’s almost a required buddy. On nearly every message board, forum, and website for chronic illness there are studies quoted showing how we are at a higher risk for depression.

I battled depression well before my diagnosis. As a young divorcee, I was overwhelmed and hit a point so low, I attempted to take my own life. Fortunately, I failed. I confided in family members and I got help. I’m one of the lucky ones. That doesn’t mean that I don’t still struggle.

Many of you know that we lost my oldest step-brother to suicide almost six years ago. Losing him, I made a renewed promise to myself and to my loved ones- I would continue to seek mental health support and I would never make another attempt on my life. That doesn’t mean that I don’t still struggle.

Because depression doesn’t just go away.

It’s a daily choice to take care of myself, not just physically, but mentally.  Some days are easy, some days are hard. Some days I just want to hide in my bed and forget the world exists.

Because depression isn’t just going to disappear, I work with my doctors to stay on top of my care. Yes, I take medication. I know that’s not the answer for everyone, but it’s what works for me. I also do yoga. It took a long time to find what works for me, and on any given day, what I need can differ. The important thing is that you are aware of how you’re feeling and you take that time for yourself, whatever it is.


Talk to your doctor. Or your family. Or your best friend. Talk to me. I’m not a doctor and I don’t pretend to be a medical professional, but I can listen. I can hold your hand (even virtually) while you take the steps needed to get help.

You are not weak. It is not giving up or giving in.

You are not alone.