Warning: This is a break from your regularly scheduled innuendo and hilarity, and there is darkness in the post ahead.
Suicide is a strange topic, but one that unfortunately I am all too familiar with. Nine years ago today, my mom took her own life at the age of 50. I wrote a post about it last year, but I didn’t get into any details, and today I feel compelled to talk about it further.
A little back story: My parents moved from Austin to Seattle in July 2002. Before they left, things were… interesting. Mom was moody and often acted irrational. Dad and I thought maybe it was menopause or something hormonal. She had lost a bunch of weight and just wasn’t herself. One day when I came home from work (I still lived with them at the time), she collapsed in front of me. I called 911, and even though she came to while I was on the phone with them and tried to talk me out of having the ambulance come, I wouldn’t have any of that and they came, took her to the hospital, and tests revealed that her liver levels were off the charts. She was abusing pain pills, and we have no idea how long that was going on before this episode. She was in denial about a lot of it and wouldn’t admit to anything.
I was engaged at the time, and shortly before they moved away she had a breakdown in front of me, telling me she didn’t want to leave me… that she wanted to be a part of my life and see me get married and have children. They were going to be living close to my sister (my mom’s step-daughter), her husband, and their three precious children, who my mom adored, but she didn’t want to leave her blood daughter behind.
My mom had a hard time making friends, and taking her out of her element when she was already so depressed was hard on her. After they moved I went to visit the following month, and she seemed to be doing okay. She was still very skinny but she was awake and hanging out and loving being around her grandkids.
Unfortunately the depression continued, and she was still abusing pain pills (unbeknownst to us), and she ended up in the hospital a few more times. In early November I had a strong feeling wash over me that I needed to go visit. I arranged for time off work and took that trip. When my dad picked me up from the airport, he told me, “Your mom’s been talking a lot about dying.” I asked if there was any chance that she might be suicidal, and he said no, that she had had a psychiatric evaluation at the hospital and they said she was fine. She didn’t want to take antidepressants because they made you fat, and psychiatrists were for crazy people (her words), and she was fine.
She slept for a substantial portion of that week, and my concerns ran high. However, the last couple days that I was there she actually got out of bed, got dressed and put make-up on (my mom was obsessed with her appearance prior to all of this – never left the house without full makeup, nice clothes, etc. – so I took this as a good sign!), and even went out with us to dinner. As we hugged our goodbyes on that trip, I was actually feeling positive and thinking maybe everything would actually work out.
A week later I got the call from my dad. He asked where I was. I was driving at the time, and he told me just to call him back when I got home, but I already knew so I demanded he tell me. He told me she had passed away, but wasn’t forthcoming about the suicide part, just that her body had given up. I managed to get back to my apartment in a blur before allowing myself to lose it. That was a Saturday night. I made flight arrangements for Monday and comforted myself with the thoughts that it was her time to go.
Monday when I got there, my dad told me what actually happened – that she voluntarily took herself out of this world – my world, Dad’s world, the grandkids’ worlds. And although she took close to 50 OxyContin that day, she didn’t die of an overdose; she cut her arms – this was no accident. I was dumbstruck and by the time I was finally able to speak all I could do was yell about how angry I was. I felt betrayed and disgusted, and then wondered what everyone would think about me when they found out.
She left behind two notes, one that just said “DNR/DNI” (do not resuscitate, do not intubate) and one that said, “I’m dying and I’m not going to get well.” Ironically, that was an unfortunate truth considering her inability to face her pain pill addiction. When we went through all her things afterwards, we found pills in hiding places – in small containers tucked away behind other things in drawers, in pockets of sweaters in the coat closet. She was deep in her addiction, and we really had no idea.
My life was forever changed – a marriage, divorce, and my own subsequent battle with drugs and alcohol (for those who have expressed interest in my own story, a series of posts are in the works) followed. I can see now that my own addictions were actually an incredible blessing in disguise, because at the end, when I prayed for death every night before going to bed, it hit me – this is what Mom felt. I wasn’t angry anymore; I understood. I got the help I needed, the help my mom was unable to ask for, but inside my heart hurt for her, that she felt she had no one to talk to and no where to turn.
My mentality on all of this today is as follows. Tragedy happens to everyone, no matter who you are. You can let the sorrow take you down, or you can use your negative experiences to help shape the best life for yourself, and in turn have those experiences available to share with others. God places people in my life who need to know someone who has been affected by suicide. It’s an odd bond to forge with someone, but an instantaneous one, and all I can do is use my experience to help those who need it. And I can make myself a better person day by day, choice by choice, experience by experience. And I can focus on gratitude and love and happiness and joy, even through the bad times. I thank God for that ability.
I love my mom with all my heart and miss her tremendously. Suicide is a big deal. It leaves a hole in the lives of all affected, and a long shitty road to recovery and repair and release. So, just like last year’s post, I will put out a plea.
If you are depressed, hurting, beat up, torn down – talk to someone. If you feel like suicide is the only answer – it isn’t. You are loved, I can promise you that. Reach out. Talk to a friend, family member, a counselor (unbiased opinions can often be the best ones in situations like these). Call the Hopeline at 1-800-SUICIDE (800-784-2433). And if you are in Austin – Capital Area Counseling, Waterloo Counseling and the YWCA all provide sliding scales of free counseling. Capital Area Counseling will see you for as little as $10 a session.
Mom, I love you today and everyday.
My mom in her 20s, working at the grocery store where she met my dad.
With me in the trailer we called home in Grapevine, Texas.
I was 17 here, so 1999.
She wore this pumpkin costume for Halloween probably 8 years in a row.
Christmas was definitely her favorite holiday.
With my nephew, and if the date on that photo is correct, that was my 19th birthday.
When I went to visit Mom and Dad right after they moved to Seattle.
If you made it through, thanks for reading. I’ll be back tomorrow with a happy post about my amazing weekend with dear friends, a gorgeous wedding, and chocolate covered bacon.
<3 C
Christin, thanks for sharing this with us. I am so sorry for your loss. My mom’s best friend went down a similar road and you are completely right about how difficult suicide can be for the friends and family. You never fully recover. Your attitude about helping others affected by depression, suicide and loss is wonderful. Having someone to listen or help is so important.
Wish I could give you a big hug!
Thank you, Amanda… I’m sorry for your mom’s best friend and all who were affected. <3
What a beautiful post! Thanks for sharing – what a touching story, and a great way to reach out to people!
hi i just wanted to comment to thank you for this honest post, it really touched my heart.
oh honey. this brought me to tears, I am so SO sorry this happened. suicide is a very difficult thing, I know. an ex tried three times and called me each time – all of the details still have a profound effect on me.
thank you for sharing this, it cannot be easy. the photos are so wonderful, and a very nice tribute to your mom on this day. I send you extra love and positive energy today, dear friend!
Sorry to hear about your ex, Kris… it’s so tough to be put in that position! Love you, friend xo
I can’t imagine what you felt and are still feeling!! Sending prayers your way!!
Thank you for sharing your story.
I’m so sorry
What a heartfelt post! Thank you for sharing!
Thank you, Liz xo
Your mom was a beautiful lady. I am so, so sorry you had to go through such a tragic loss. I lost my dad to cancer 3.5 years ago – I know it’s unbelievably painful to lose a parent, but can’t imagine under those circumstances. Sending lots of hugs your way, friend.
Thank you so so much, Laura! xo
i remember this post last year, and I am so thankful and grateful that you shared the whole story. Christin, you truly are amazing. A gift from GOD to many people who might be hurting right now. GOD is using you right now, I see that so much.
Your mom is a beautiful person, just like you. And tonight I will be praying for you both. I love you friend. Thank you for such boldness.
Thank YOU for reinforcing I made the right decision by putting this out there. Love you, Linds! xo
Thank you for sharing your story, Christin. You are so brave to put this out there to help others, and I want you to know that you inspire me. Your mom was beautiful
She really was a gorgeous lady. Thanks, doll xo
Thank you for sharing this post. It shows a lot of courage that you did so.
Thank you so much for this. {thisisabigBIGhug}
Big hug back, thank you hon <3
Thank you, Christin. This is so beautifully written & is so very important to share. It was so nice seeing you last night. We need to do it again soon & often!!
Beautiful post…it really got to me. I’m so sorry for your loss. She seemed like a wonderful lady through the addiction. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you for your sweet words, Mary xo
I’m sending you virtual hugs from Atlanta!
Hugs back, thank you Lee! xo
You, my friend, are amazing! This post is beyond beautiful. Your strength, love, understanding and kindness are the incredible qualities that make you such a special person. Thank you for sharing yourself. These are the things that people don’t talk about and it really does help to know we aren’t alone in our low times or our high times. I am so sorry for your loss. Love you Christin! Many hugs to you!
Thank you, and hugs back to ya! xo
Thank you so much for sharing this! I can tell how much you loved your mom and how awesome she was. I am sorry that things ended the way they did for her, but I am glad you have such great perspective and understanding now
Um, wow. You’ve lived through quite a bit in the last ten years. You are such an inspiration and a model of strength, determination, resilience, optimism and a wicked sense of humor.
Thank you for sharing your story. I’m sure you’ve helped more people that you’ll know. There is such power in community and people being open with their struggles and pasts. It both helps you heal and helps others who are just starting their struggle.
You are simply wonderful.
ps – totally random, but I grew up in the Grapevine/Colleyville area and graduated from Grapevine HS. I’m wondering if our paths ever overlapped there. Small world.
Thank you so SO much, MIchelle!! xoxo I was only in Grapevine till I was 5, then we moved to Austin, but small world anyway! It’s not often I meet anyone who knows where Grapevine is, let alone lived there!!
Such a beautiful post – tears in my eyes for sure. Sharing your story – showing how it’s changed you as a person…for the better, even after the hardships you went through in your own personal struggles. I’m blessed to have you in my virtual life.
I appreciate you sharing this – I haven’t shared much about Billy’s dad because it’s not necessarily my story to tell, but suicide is certainly something that hits very close to heart. I love you and I look forward to reading more and knowing more about you! xo
Love you too, pretty lady… and thank you for your kind and encouraging words! xo
Wow, thank you so much for sharing your story. It’s actually almost the nine-year anniversary of my mom’s death also (11/25/02). The circumstances were different but there are some things here that really hit home for me as well.
Kind of eerie, that they passed away so close together. Thinking of you and sending you hugs! xo
Wow, what an amazingly brave post. Thanks so much for writing this.