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Why Kick Them When They Are Down?
I’m a survivor of suicide; both as a sibling and personally myself.
In September 2021, my youngest brother took his own life. It devastated our entire family; it devastated me. He was my buddy. I was the oldest of five, he was the youngest. We spent so much time together growing up, that he called me mom quite a bit. Being as we are ten years apart, I naturally assumed the motherly position and made sure all four of my younger siblings were well taken care of and safe while in my care. Helping my mom with babysitting made me realize all I wanted to be in life was a mom. I have been enormously blessed with four beautiful children of my own. At 41 years of age, I have so much to look back on and be proud of.
Unfortunately, the night of October 29, 2023 was not one of those proud moments.
After two years of grief and financial hardship, a failing relationship, and a bout with alcoholism, I decided that I would be better off gone. I had convinced my sick brain that I didn’t matter at all; that my kids deserved better, that I couldn’t take care of them financially by myself, and my family had written me off because of my alcoholism.
None of this was truth, and somehow I felt it to be truth. Because of my brush with an attempt on my life, I was hospitalized for my mental health, and received a diagnosis of bipolar 1.
The night of October 29, I almost succeeded in what I set out to do. I am lucky to be here, truly. I was informed that had 911 been called 20-30 minutes later, I wouldn’t have been able to survive as my organs were already shutting down on me.
I am a firm believer in angels and guardians who watch over us, and I know my brother was there with me that night and is the reason why I’m still earth side right now. It wasn’t my time, and clearly I had a lesson to learn. I am thankful to be alive and able to raise my children; they couldn’t have ever been able to understand why I left them like that. I haven’t been able to talk to them yet about what happened. They just knew I was in the hospital.
I found out from my oldest (adult) daughter, who was aware of the situation, that her stepmother let her four children, one of whom is ten years old, know why I was hospitalized. This angered me to no end. I’m not entirely sure why MY very personal experience was shared with children, much less children that I have nothing personally to do with. It’s nobody’s place to share such sensitive, personal, and painful information with anyone, ever.
When IM ready to share, I will, just like I’m doing right now. I’m okay sharing it with you beautiful and amazingly understanding fellow Mighty members.
How would you feel if this were a situation you were in? The damage has already been done, so informing my ex husband’s new wife how upset it makes me, how unsafe she’s made me feel, and how consent is a powerful thing she preaches about and just stole from me, is not okay.
Don’t kick us while we are down. We hurt enough on our own. We feel the guilt from our actions, and we will spend a lifetime always remembering that guilt and trying to overcompensate for it.
We don’t need nosy Nelly in the corner whispering about us like a high school drama queen. Period.
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