The Never-Ending Search for Answers After a Suicide
Last night I dreamed I was digging.
Digging in some sort of sand box.
I woke up and right away knew what that meant. I’m digging. Digging for answers. Digging for the truth. Digging. Why? Why don’t I just “let it go?” Why? I have been down so many roads, avenues, highways searching for any answer to the the question, “Why did my loving husband, my best and truest friend, my children’s Papa, seemingly out-of-the-blue kill himself?” Why? I have chatted online with medical doctors. Internal medicine doctors, medical examiners, mental health doctors, general practice doctors. I have asked questions about heavy metals, about schizophrenia, about psychosis, about toxic mold, about Lyme disease. Why?
I have had one doctor online say to me, “Why do you care why he killed himself or the exact illness he had? You already lost him. Are you looking to sue someone or some doctor for not finding his illness?” Yup, a grown man said this to me. A grown person who is a “family” practice doctor said this to me. There are hardly any words or hardly any words without bleeping them all out. So to that man I say this. No. No I am not looking for money. I will not ever sue anyone.
I have a 5-year-old and a 2-year-old.
Why? They are why.
I need to be informed. I will most likely never 100-percent know why, but I need to be informed for these children. I need to know the signs of schizophrenia because if it was schizophrenia that led to his suicide, they have a 10-percent chance of inheriting it. I am their mama. I need to know this. I need to know all about psychosis, and depression, and anxiety. I need to research Lyme disease, toxic mold poisoning, heavy metal poisoning, and more. I need to inform myself on all these things that may have contributed to thousands of people taking their own lives.
I will dig. I will become informed. No, it is not because I have not accepted that my beautiful, loving, funny, bright, kind, compassionate, adoring husband died by suicide. I have fully accepted it. I can say the word “suicide” out loud. My children know the word. I am helping others, guiding others. Dig. I will dig and fill my brain with knowledge and my shelves with books. Why? To that doctor who basically said, “Why bother?” Because I couldn’t save my best friend’s life. But maybe, just maybe, I can save my children’s. Dig. Why? Because I’m the only one willing, able, and fully ready to hold the shovel.
Because my friend deserves it.
Because my children need it.
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Thinkstock photo by straga