Yesterday evening, I attended my first support meeting for those of us left behind by suicide. It was a very interesting combination of uniqueness and familiarity.

I am bound by confidentiality. I cannot share with you details of the struggles the other participants. I can share with you my thoughts and my experiences of the evening.

Deciding to attend a group meeting, of any sort, is a pain in the ass for me. Carving out time from my routine is a challenge. I am already committed 80% of my day, the remaining 20 is for sleep, hygiene, and eating. G-d knows I don’t need one additional thing to give away time to.

I became aware of the Healing Hearts of Survivors group several months ago. I follow the Facebook page, and occasionally comment on posts. So many of the comments felt familiar. The anger, the confusion, the blame echoed through my mind. I have been there. I am there, now.

Most of the attendees were parents, like me. Parents struggling to understand what causes someone to take this irreversible step. Mothers and fathers wanting to know why no one picked up the phone, or turned on the PC, to send a message that their child was struggling with the decision to live or die.

Sadly, there were also siblings, spouses, and friends who just want to share their feelings without getting “a look” or empty words of false understanding. If we don’t understand it how the hell can you understand it.

For me, most of the rawness of the pain has eased. I still get angry and upset from time to time. It gets bad when I write about it. I’ve started and stalled so many times over the past year, it’s unreal.

I will attend again. Not sure just when, but there will be another.

 

Tags: healing, life, pain, suicide