The Military and Suicide

On Sunday, I watched the PBS program done every year in Washington DC, to honor and remember our military and their families, and especially those we have lost or have been injured in service.

The program was beautiful, with tributes and music to stir our souls and make us take time out of our busy lives to remember those who deserve to be remembered.

Partway through the program, Joe Mantegna and Gary Sinise did a re-enactment of the story of twin brothers who had both been in the military, and been deployed several times in the past decade.  At times they were in the same arena, and others were not.  The younger brother sustained serious injuries in his last deployment, including amputation of one of his legs.  His older brother never got over the thought that he should have somehow been there to prevent it from happening.

The older brother also witnessed other losses and horrors of war in his deployments.  Upon returning home, he found the adjustments difficult and suffered from PTSD.  He struggled to participate in a "normal" life with his beautiful wife and three young children, always keeping in touch with his brother.  However, as the years wore on, he was unable to progress out of his depression and dark moods, and he ultimately died by suicide.  The story was so poignantly told as the two actors, each speaking of one of the brothers, presented the strong emotions of both brothers on their journeys, including the surviving brother's thoughts after the other was gone.

The surviving brother, wife, and three children were in the audience.  I thought they were so brave to be there, with tears flowing freely as they listened to this short depiction of a situation so heart-wrenching on so many levels.  Afterwards they were greeted and embraced by Joe Mantegna and Gary Sinise.

 

I was filled with so many emotions...but the predominant one was to stand up and cheer for the producers of this program.  Congratulations to them for bringing this out in a respectful and honorable way, in a way that said that these young men who come home with PTSD and TBI's, who are unable to re-enter the mainstream of life, and who are at such high risk of ending their own lives deserve as much recognition as those with very visible injuries.  Thank-you to those who supported putting a spotlight on this problem, to make people aware, and hopefully obtain better care and support for these soldiers and their families, and my sincere condolences to this family who will never stop feeling the effects of these events.

Coping Strategies

So Mother’s Day is over.  Here are some of my coping strategies.

I spent the day with a very nice person who has come into my life, he is very understanding and supportive.  One of my favorite expressions is from Dr. Phil.  He calls that person in your life that you should be able to depend on and rely on, “your soft place to fall.”  I just love that.  Everyone needs a soft place to fall.  It may be a spouse, a significant other, a sibling, a friend, or most anyone.  They become as they say on Gray’s Anatomy, “your person”.  (After my divorce  my father became the one who I felt was always there, and who would give me sane advice, and hopefully would support me in my endeavors.  He was “my person” then.)

Good thing I was with my person, because the beginning of the day was spent fighting back tears, and mostly losing the battle.  This was my fourth Mother’s Day without Erik, I didn't know why I was so upset!  I had promised myself I would spend the day with my son Jason and my grandchildren, but decided a sobbing grandma was not a great asset at a picnic.  Jason happened to call in the middle of one my meltdowns, so when I started apologizing he told me that I should do what I needed to do to make myself okay, and if I wanted to stay where I was, that it was fine with him.  So that was my second strategy, doing what I had to do for myself, instead of feeling guilty and going to a gathering I would have a hard time feeling a part of. 

My third strategy was in spite of all the support I had, at the end of the day, I ate a lot of cookies.  Now, I am sort of joking about this, but not really.  For me, sugar is my addiction of choice, and it is apparent in my dress size.  Often people figure that it is better than drinking, gambling, narcotics, etc.  But the reality is, as we all know, it really isn’t  healthy. 

I am sharing these ideas with hopes that others found ways to get through this day and any others that are difficult.  I used two smart ones, and the third not so smart one.  If you are new to the survival game, they are something to think about, and it is okay to very deliberately plan how to get through certain anniversary days or holidays.

Plan on being with someone who can be your “soft place to fall”.  It may be that the person who used to be your soft place to fall is also fighting their own battle for survival, and for a little while can’t be there for you like they used to.  It’s okay.  Try to rely on others.  Surviving the death of a family member, especially a child, is extraordinarily hard on relationships. 

If it is too hard, be honest with family members and tell them you don’t want to hurt their feelings, but that you need to not attend the party or gathering.  I have tried just going to a family gathering because I felt I had to, and it set me back.  I have tried just saying I wasn’t coming, and then worrying about it, and it was almost as bad as if I had gone.  If you can find the right person, and say – “I can’t come, and the reason why is…”, you will open yourself to their support and then spend that time trying to take care of yourself instead of  worrying about someone being upset with you.  When Jason told me it was okay not to join him and the kids at the picnic they would be at, I believed him.  And I felt good that I had at least let him know that I wasn’t indifferent to his feelings, that I had wanted to try, but just wasn’t there yet.

And finally, be aware that these are the times that our more unhealthy coping mechanisms will surface, and God knows we might think we have a good “excuse” to go back to them “just one more time”.  So remember to be cautious if you have old demons that don’t believe in letting you do something “just this once”.  Plan to otherwise occupy yourself, or have support around you.  If you have serious issues and have a support group or sponsor, call them.  It is okay to say, “I know it’s been four years, but I think I’m going to have a really hard time getting through this day.”

And once the day is over, know that you made it through one more thing, and will continue down the road you're on.  And if you took a little detour, that’s okay, just follow the signs to get back to the highway.  And once you're back on path, we will all be there together.

A Poem for Mother's Day

Always

 

Your time with us was so much shorter than I ever wanted it to be.

We tried so hard to keep you here, your grief we couldn't see,

A mother would always give her own life for her son,

But you didn't give me that chance.

I would have done just anything to keep you here with me.

 

Twenty-five years was shorter than I ever thought it could be.

The treasure of your existence, something I clung to desperately.

I just didn't want to lose you,

Life sometimes isn't fair,

But I know your destiny was set, by something greater than me.

 

The world has taken you away, some say by your own hand,

I know you wanted to stay, but just couldn't understand

how to find some joy and solace, how to make your life okay.

I never was angry you left me, I know you did what was planned.

 

So sometimes I think the universe won,

Your time here was short - a mother should never lose a son.

 

But there is something that you taught me,

A lesson so great and so real,

That on this day of all days, this is what I feel:

 

I did not have you for only twenty-five years-

I had you then, til now, and for always.

Because you still exist, your spirit so strong,

You're here every minute, and will be my whole life long.

 

So not for twenty-five years, but for always:

 

I have your little baby self, head on my shoulder and forehead so soft, always,

I have the toddler with white-blonde curls, always moving and climbing, always,

I have your preschool graduation, with you so shy you turned sideways as if no one could see you then, always,

I have the little boy laughing so hard on the living room floor at his favorite cartoon, always,

I have the bigger boy playing soccer, running as fast as the wind, always,

I have the basketball star, a picture of joy and ease on the court, always,

I have the young man so wise beyond his years, consoling me when I was in tears, always,

I have those last years we were together, as harried as they were, always.

 

And that's what I hold tight to now, that I have the spirit and joy of you,

Always.

For that I am grateful, with no regrets, always.

 

by Mary Ann Kirisits

 



A Song

This song always makes me think of Erik.



Being Erik's Mother

My beautiful Erik...he was something.  He was a handful from the start, cranky as a baby, never sleeping through the night, and always on the move.  He had blonde hair that was almost white and curled, but just at the ends, and the brightest blue eyes.  As a child he was always on the small side, which just made him all the cuter.  He was the opposite of his brother in every way,  but very funny and very sweet. 

I know I have said it before - but it seemed that everyone especially loved him.  I think it was because he always had a bit of a shy nervousness about him, which just made him more appealing and caused people to reach out to him.  I remember that his preschool teacher had always obviously favored him, and told me once that he was a favorite of the other little kids at the preschool.

This continued on that he was always popular and likeable, and while school was hard for him, he excelled on the soccer field or basketball court.  I may sound like a biased mother, but I often heard other parents or people watching the games, saying, "Hey, look at him", or, "look at that guy run", or, "look at him pass the ball."  I think he stood out because he always, in that one venue, look relaxed and so joyous.  He was never a poor sport, or hard on himself or the other players.  He just loved being there.

Then as his mid-teens turned into his late teens, he seemed to have issues and conflicts so much greater than the "normal" teenage angst.  And from there on until we lost him, life was a haze of mental health issues, frightening days, angry days, and sad days.

But this is not what I want to say right now.  What I want to tell the world right now, is that I never, ever, regretted being or wished I wasn't Erik's mom.  Maybe most people would say well of course that's true, but when I initially looked back over his last third of his life, all that we went through, and then the heartbreak of his death, I couldn't help but be surprised that I didn't walk around wishing I had gotten to be someone else's mother.

I even played out this little fantasy in my head.  I would pretend that I got to talk to God ahead of time, and he said to me, "Mary Ann, this is what Erik will be like, and how your life will be with him".  Then he would show me other sons to choose from, who were extraordinarily gifted, found school and careers easy, and lived long and very successful lives.  Then God would say, "So you can choose to have any of these souls to be your son, or you can choose to still have Erik, knowing how hard it will be".  And without even thinking about it, without missing a beat, I would always say in my fantasy, "Oh no, I only want Erik.  He's the one I want."

In my brain, I step back and think this is amazing.  Why would anyone choose to have a hard time instead of an easy time?  If there would be no judgment or penalty, why would I not choose a joyous easy family?  It seems like an enigma to me.

As I grapple with it, I guess there is only one obvious answer...it is the inexplicable ability of mothers for unconditional love.  It is that belief deep in our hearts that it was our destiny to be the mother of certain human beings, maybe one, maybe two, maybe ten, it is that  bond of motherhood.

And no matter how hard it was, and whatever heartbreak it brought, I will always be grateful I was Erik's mother, and would not have traded him for anyone in the world.  For me, this was motherhood.

I love you Erik.

Apology

I feel like I should apologize for saying that Mother's Day is stupid.  Of course, it is not stupid.  It is just so hard for me to make sense of the day now.

Mother's Day is actually a very beautiful day, and, if I remember right, it was "invented" by one of the presidents in honor of his mother.  It is so appropriate that the mothers of the world be honored and remembered in a special way, it is so inherent in our understanding about all that is love and compassion. 

My reaction to it is just part of the package of being a suicide survivor, and I realize it could take many forms over this one day.  What of the children whose mother left them because she committed suicide?  What about the poor dads who have to look at their broken-hearted children and support them while missing their spouses?  What about the siblings who know their moms will be extra sad?

My more rational self remembers that each type of relationship brings a unique pain to the suicide survivor.  I remember when I used to read postings in the support forums, it seemed the people who had participated in the forums for the most years were those who lost parents.  It made so much sense to me.  After all, our parents are supposed to be our security, our unconditional love, and our safety net.  I can't imagine what it is like to have that basic emotional security ripped out from under you.  To begin with, you are a child, so the process of even understanding what has happened probably changes every few years as you mature.  Then there are all the milestones that your parent is supposed to be there for...graduations, weddings, childbirth.  It is no wonder that these folks were still participating in the forums and searching for their peace and closure.

At the in-person support group, I remember feeling so badly for a woman whose husband had died by suicide.  She was so shattered, in so much shock, and in this situation, had so much anger.  And she also then had to deal with the reactions of their children and other family members.

Those who had lost siblings, in addition to their own grief, were so sad for their parents.  And yes, Mother's Day is extra hard for my son as well as me.

I guess it is the cornerstone of suicide that it brings a cruel reversal to many of life's events.  What should often be the most joyous or are meant to be celebrated, are reminders instead.  This happens for all the holidays for all types of loss...including divorce and children leaving the family home, separations for those in the military, etc.  But the sharp edge of suicide is that the person themselves caused their own departure.  Please notice I do not use the term choose to leave, since I am militant in my crusade against saying that people "choose to die".  No one would ever choose to die, our loved ones would have chosen to live life - had they believed it was ever going to be a possibility for them to do so with some sort of joy or peace, but they lost that hope.

So I will try to not panic so badly about Mother's Day.  However, I have to confess I will probably avoid obvious displays of the celebration of the day, such as the Hallmark stores and Sunday brunches.

And most importantly, I will on this day and all days be forever grateful that I was Erik's mother for twenty-five years, I thank God and the Universe for that.