September is Suicide Awareness Month

Depression is a symptom of RA.

Several months have passed and everyday the thought of death enters my mind. Today, it was late. I almost made it through a whole day without wishing I were dead. I don't actually think about taking my own life, I don't plan to walk out in front of a semi truck or take my car off a bridge, however each and every day, I wish I were departed from this life on earth. I am not alone.

The loss of my father

41 years ago my father took a 22 caliber pistol and pulled the trigger with the gun pressed to his right temple. It was his 59th birthday. He got up that Sunday morning, showered, shaved, put on nice clothes and new shoes, ate breakfast, then went out to the garage. That was the end of his life. Simple as that, over! I'm not sure where he thought he was going.

I was 21 years old, just a child really. The end of my Daddy's life began a nightmare of searching for our family. Searching for answers, why would he do something that so many see as a selfish act. My father was in no way selfish. I really have no idea how much this act affected my mom or my siblings even though I saw their hurt and pain. I only know for sure, what was happening in my mind and how it continues to this day, 41 years later. Yes, 41 years later, I still do not have an answer as to why.

For the first few days, weeks and even years, I felt embarrassed and ashamed. I was also disappointed. The funeral was held and the community showed their support for our family. There were 59 bouquets of flowers sent, funny how that is remembered. It was his 59th birthday. I can only imagine how many people were whispering amongst themselves about their neighbor, their friend, their co worker. I thought that some of my actions were the reason he took his life. I wonder if my mom and siblings thought the same. Did they think it was my fault. Did they believe it was their fault. More answers to questions I'll never know.

I realized depression is real

I'm not sure how many years passed before I quit hiding the reason my dad died. I'm not sure exactly what I read or saw that opened my eyes and gave me the ability and confidence to tell anyone what had happened. I had no therapists or counselors. It was like, one day a light came on and I understood. I believe I realized depression was real and I unfortunately had the disease. It seems when I started having feelings of taking my own life, I understood what had been going on in dad's mind, to a certain extent. It was easier for me. I didn't become an advocate for suicide awareness or start a non profit organization in his name, but I lost the shame and quilt I had previously carried with me for years. I could now talk freely about the cause of my dad's death. Maybe, I felt as if I could help someone else, maybe it was helping me? Maybe it was because I had been diagnosed with RA?

I know what suicide does to a family, the survivors. I know what pain, hurt, and questions it brings out. I could never do that to my family. Thanks Daddy! Thank you for giving me the nightmare that I refuse to give to my child and husband. How could I possibly put my brothers and my sister who is still with us through that type of pain again. We didn't deserve the pain we endured when you took your life, we surely don't deserve it again. The pain you caused never ends. As far as I know Daddy, you felt no pain, seeing you lying there dead, you only looked asleep. I was young and I asked questions. The bullet just entered and made circular motions within your skull. There was no explosion! Was that a part of the plan? Another unanswered question. I feel a tiny bit of anger as I write this.

We didn't acknowledge the signs that were in front of us

Depression is real, suicide is a result of depression. We didn't acknowledge the signs, we didn't know. I know there were signs. I know my Dad planned his death step by step. I don't know why we didn't see any of this planning process. He left out the good bye part, we never said goodbye. I know that this was intentional. I talked with him the night before, I had no clue it would be the last time. Suicide awareness is much more prominent today than 41 years ago. We have much more knowledge about depression and suicide, yet the suicide rate continues to rise.

I still don't know the answers to all the questions. I have come to the conclusion that I never will. I do know that my father's actions are what keeps me here with my family. Even if it's just one person, who reads this, and it helps them or someone they love from taking their life, or even just opens them up to talk, I will have had some kind of purpose for writing this. Suicide only hurts the ones you leave behind. Forever.