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I've been watching and reading this thread, since it started. Until now, I have only thought about replying or adding to it. I suppose in part because I've never "attempted suicide". Suicidal Ideation however has been a very large part of my thoughts, throughout the years. (Presently, as I write this, I have not had such thoughts in quite some time.) I would consider myself, as having "Passive Suicidal Ideation"- a desire to die, without a specific plan to carry it out. Suicide, at some point in my life, became an "option", if I could not withstand the battles of my life... I work hard to remain a survivor.
At the age of 27, I had a beautiful, curly red headed baby girl. Joy, renewal, and a vow... to raise her without abuse, harm, or as an outlet for my anger. She is 20 years old now, and I'm SO very proud, to be her Mom. (My vow to my daughter will make more sense, if you choose to read on.)
I have shared, in another post, that I journal. I have since I was very young. Looking back through some of those journals, I see a dark side in my words, helplessness, in my writing... and I recall writing those words and feelings, from those times. Pleading, and begging to have it ALL go away. I DO see a therapist presently. I've been to many over the years, as I seek "help" when I KNOW my thought patterns are again, shifting.
My paternal grandmother died when I was 13yrs old. She was literally my "lifeline", as only she gave me the support, and compassion that I unknowingly sought, the years before she passed. Her passing was like the end of the world, for me. I vividly recall the middle of the night phone call, my father received... letting him know, she had died. Seeing my father cry. To this day, I am deathly afraid, of middle of the night phone calls.
After her passing, I lost a lot of weight (diagnosed as anorexic) I started "cutting" and graduated to burning. (From the MAYO clinic; ~Cutting- Nonsuicidal self-injury, often simply called self-injury, is the act of deliberately harming the surface of your own body, such as cutting or burning yourself. It's typically not meant as a suicide attempt. Rather, this type of self-injury is an unhealthy way to cope with emotional pain, intense anger, and frustration. ~) (I have been in "cutting" sobriety, for many years. IT has NOT always been easy.) Depression, chronic anxiety/panic attacks... PTSD. These diagnoses did NOT just come about because of my Grandma's passing. Her passing, and the sudden realization that my lifeline was gone, exacerbated my feelings of being empty, totally alone, unlovable and lost, and brought to the surface, the deep emotional pain, I had endured since before I was 5yrs old.
I was SO young, my relationship with my mother was very "strained', I realized we were NOT close before I was 5. She was not afraid to shout the words, "I wish you had never been born!" My father, so much like my grandma, (his Mom) was my rock. Never was I unsure if he loved me, or was proud that I was his daughter. (I was an only child for 5 yrs before my middle sibling was born.) I felt I lived in a war zone, when my parents were together. My mother is/was very insecure, jealous, and hateful. Especially toward the relationship between my dad, and myself. She was physically, emotionally, and psychologically abusive. (Accusations of extra-marital affairs, against my Dad, were a nightly "dinner topic") EVERY day, I lived this. I witnessed Domestic Violence, ALL night arguing, and dysfunction, in all of its horrifying grandeur. My mother was my enemy, and I was one of her targets. * I will leave gaps of my story, as some parts; induce great panic attacks/anxiety, for me, to this day. As an example, when my Mother became enraged she would grab my hair, wrap it around her fist, clench it tightly, and RIP it out of my head. My scalp would bleed. She would laugh, and "promise" I would "get" it again. *
I was introduced to the concept of "suicide', at the age of 4. Of course I didn't understand it, or what it meant but my mother, used the words, “I will kill myself, and then you'll be sorry", to my Dad, several times during their daily/nightly arguments. My mother would make phone calls to my Dad's work, EVERY day, tell ME what to say when the receptionist answered, and when my Dad would pick up the call, I was coached to tell him; “Daddy, you need to come home. Mommy is going to kill herself". At first, he would. He would leave work, and come home. They would fight. I would hide.
As time went on, and my mother continued this behavior, my Dad would NO longer take the calls I was forced to make. I TOOK the brunt of those "NO longer taken phone calls", and I feared my mother and being alone with her. This was in the early 70's, and I was only 4/5. (I was threatened, by my mother, when I became school aged, threatened with agonizing physical repercussions, IF I ever said a word about MY home life. I never did.) My parents had 2 more daughters. My mother targeted neither of them, as I became their protector.
At 47, I am still haunted by everything I endured. (MY PTSD diagnosis) Memories get easier, but do not go away.
My mother attempted suicide, one time, which I know of. My Dad, spoke to professional's re: my mother's chronically abusive behaviors, and she was put on medication, evaluated, and mandated to work with a therapist. If she did not, she would’ve been placed in an "institution". She "played" along, and NEVER was seen, as who she truly was/is. My mother continued her "targeting" of me, until I graduated HS, and moved out, 2 months later. Her behaviors toward my Dad NEVER ceased. She will be 69 in a few short weeks. 50 yrs of marriage. (My birthday candle wish, every year was; “I wish that Mom and Dad will get divorced.” It never came true.)
My Dad..., who I have spoken of proudly, IS chronically sick. He is in the hospital, with Stage 4 kidney failure, survived 3 open heart surgeries, served in Vietnam, ALWAYS saying, " I am a soldier"... and HE endured my mother’s abuse his entire adult life. He has also been one of my strongest lifelines, and he IS going to die. He recently made his "end of life" choices. DNR is in place.
He CAN return home, to live what time he has left. He CHOSE NOT to. His reason; “I can NO longer live with your mother, or her abusive ways. I do love her BUT I am tired, and I am done". His 3 daughters, my 2 younger sisters, and I support and accept his difficult decision. Yet, OUR hearts are broken.
Yet, I know that even the strongest soldier, one-day finds, that it's his time to rest.
My Dad has been in Palliative Care, for just under 1 month now. I am proud of my Dad. It is the first choice he has made for himself, OVER my mother's blatant disregard FOR his needs/wants. After 50 yrs, of "unknowingly enabling and 'giving in' to my mother, out of his love for her, ( and his concrete explanation of, " Your mother is sick, I can’t leave her.") My Dad has stood up to her.
She has told him he is selfish, abusive and has never loved her, for the choice he has now made. She has stated she will commit suicide, when he dies. *By my young adult years, I knew just how very conniving, and manipulative my mother was/ and still is. And, YES... how VERY mentally sick she's been her entire life.*
My "wish" has now become, that MY dad lives his last days, weeks, or months, the way he chooses. He has limited the amount of visits my mother is allowed, to see him. A difficult, yet necessary decision.
AS I read your post's @overwhelmed, and @jimhd 's, regarding suicide, my heart heard your feelings, thoughts, and worries. Very loudly. My OWN memories, emotions, and deepest fears surfaced. BUT I didn't panic. I felt NOT so alone. I know, being told, "You are NOT alone" and "Feeling totally and hopelessly alone, during those times... are a battle fought, in a troubled, fragile mind. I know. I get "it". I "hear" you. I have "felt" it.
And @johnjames, you have a truly incredible and compassionate knowledge base, filled with empathy and genuine concern. NOT only because you have studied such areas of life, but because you have lived through, witnessed, and experienced so much, as a man. A human being, beyond all else that you have become, throughout your life's journey, thus far. Your very first post, in which you shared some very deep experiences from your military career, and as a Chaplain, drew me in, more than you may realize. Maybe, I was directed to your posts and words by something larger than myself. (I have copied and saved, many of your replies to others, and to myself, so that I can look at them, read them, and draw strength from them.) They have given me a "new" perspective, on many subjects, and for that, I’m grateful.
I seem to post in Connect when certain posts just draw me in because I truly "feel" them. Almost like, I am meant to read them. Not just in this thread but in several others, as well. And as I read them, I "feel" them because the "emotions" that they display are similar to my experiences, or I feel a need to reach out, and offer some light, in a dark moment. Because I HAVE been there, and I am sure, I will be again. Yet, I live to be as positive as I can be, see the big picture, in the smallest things, or see the simple things in the big picture, and realize that I DO have a purpose here, in this world. Even if I don't always see it. Sometimes I feel that we don't always see our own purpose at times because it is meant for others to see.
Dealing with suicide, suicidal ideation, cutting, etc... It is not easy. Especially, when the demons you wish to escape, come from within your darkest experiences, or thoughts. We are NOT our demons. We DO have a purpose here in life, and we ARE survivors. We must be extra gentle, yet sometimes stern, with ourselves. Nurture ourselves, yet urge ourselves to get back up.
We are the ONLY person that will be with US, every day, all of our life.
What I have shared isn't even a quarter of my experiences. But I AM HERE. I've ridden the terrifying roller coaster, and I am STILL here. And no, journaling doesn't always get rid of those feelings. Sometimes, I just want to rip the pages out... and I have.
The fall down a ladder, is easier than the climb up a ladder. YET, we have re-climbed our ladder, one rung at a time. Many times, for WE are here. We don't have to get back to the top of OUR ladder, in one day; we just need to hang on to ONE rung, of OUR ladder, at a time. Even when, the "hanging on" part is the MOST difficult thing in the world. Sit on the rung of the ladder, even if it's at the bottom sometimes. When you're able, start the climb, to the next rung, don't look all the way to the top of your ladder... just concentrate on that very next rung... getting back up is a process, NOT a race.
I see "your" purpose, in your posts.... With genuine appreciation, ~ KIM
Replies to "I've been watching and reading this thread, since it started. Until now, I have only thought..."
I like the picture you present of being on a ladder. It's true that we can only live one rung at a time.
Thank you, so much @jimhd... thank you. This past week has been exceptionally hard, and this morning when I got up, the heaviness that seems to have become my daily norm, awoke with me. I always start the day with my cup of coffee, and I read my emails. Many are from the Connect forums. I read yours, @jimhd and I admit... tears came to my eyes. Not bad tears... cleansing tears. I have cried so many times, every day since this difficult process with my Dad started... yet, those tears were not as cleansing as the ones that came today. Since this difficult situation, with my Dad going from Palliative care, to Hospice care... I have not heard such kind words, from anyone. YOU made me feel so much more, less alone... and I genuinely thank you.
I've had the chance to sit with my Dad when he was very much lucid... which was just a few, short weeks ago. We talked. We laughed. We cried. AND as always, my Dad supported me! His words are gifts that I will carry for the rest of my time here, on earth, and although when I hear them in my head now... they make me cry... I believe, one day they will be a source of comfort.
The rest of my family, my Mother and my 2 sisters, are dancing the dysfunctional jig. Somehow, I am either left out of what is going on, or sucked in like a whirlwind. I hold my head up... and I get through each trial.. However, it is definitely NOT easy. I have to gain info regarding my Dad's status by going to the hospital, or calling the nurses. He is an hour away from me, and with my chronic pain, the drive is somewhat tough. I go as often as I can. I will not give into the rest of my family’s dysfunction, so I am often the brunt of their, not so nice words, or the blame of things gone wrong. I KNOW I am not the source. I do not live my life that way, and never will again. Indirectly though, their dysfunctional circle targets me, and I often feel I'm wearing armor and carrying a shield.
My Dad is under minor to moderate sedation now, and when he is awake, he is still pretty lucid, he recognizes each of us, says our names, tells us he loves us, and drifts back off. I have to laugh, as sick as this man is, he STILL yells at me, if he knows I am at the hospital, after dark. The caretaker. My lifeline. The soldier.
I go during the day, to lessen his worry. I admit I've been going less often to visit... not because of my chronic pain and driving but because he said to me one day; ( childhood nickname-->) " Krimmy, you seeing me this way, deteriorating, is NOT on my list of wishes, for the end of my life. These are NOT the memories I want, for you, to have of me.”
@jimhd your last paragraph is beautiful, warm, and comforting. My Dad is not afraid of this journey ending, and a new one beginning. He has bestowed those words upon me. And they are genuine. I accept his choices, I respect HIS final "wishes", and I believe he is finding peace.
Holding tightly to my Dad's words, feelings, and wishes are often the greatest target, of my dysfunctional Mother..., as she believes my Dad has shared everything with her, and only her, during this time. I know he has not. He shared that he has not, with me. That was MY time with my Dad, words spoken to me. Words I will not give my Mother, as leverage or power, over me, or my Dad... now... or ever. Though his passing will leave a huge hole in my heart, I trust that I will one-day use the gifts he is leaving me now, to move forward, as the ache within heals.
Your prayers are so greatly appreciated. Yes, my Dad is a blessed man, and I feel, I am blessed, by the wonderful gift I was given, when he was chosen to be my Dad.
Though my faith has often been tested, and I have been left to feel unsure, lost, and broken, from my dysfunctional childhood through my adulthood. I KNOW I have NOT walked alone.
Your comforting words, @jimhd are what I need. They have inspired me, and have made me feel true comfort, where I have not felt it before. I especially needed that today. I genuinely, and with great appreciation, thank you, for your post to me. ~Kim
Kim, I'm very glad that my words touched you. I volunteer for Hospice, visiting patients once a week. I find that in giving to others, I receive encouragement, myself. For some patients, I may be the only non-medical person they ever see. Too many of them rarely, if ever, see a family member. Having family visits means a great deal to them.
In general, I've observed that those who have a strong faith in God have a much easier time of it, because they are confident that the One who created and loved them will be there to greet them, and welcome them to their forever home of peace and joy. And the family members and friends of the patient who share that hope have an easier time of it, as well.
Most of my patients ask me to pray for them before I leave them each week. Because I represent Hospice, I obviously don't impose my own personal beliefs on them, but most want to talk about what will happen to them when they die. For one thing, I can assure them that Hospice will see to it that the actual process of dying won't be a painful or unpleasant one. We will be by their side, and will also help their family through what is often a difficult time. Hospice was a real blessing to my family the last few months of our father's life, which is one reason I chose to be a part of the organization.
Your words were an encouragement to me. Thank you for sharing your feelings. Please know that you can share your fears and frustrations anytime.
I am not quite sure where to put this reply, so I am going to add it here. I have been following this thread, and have had such wonderful words given to me from many of you. @jimhd and @johnjames, I have exchanged replies with both of you caring men, so I guess leaving a reply here, makes the most sense.
And, to the other wonderful people that have been following, or adding to this thread... or that have replied to me or others here, or under other forum threads, I've written under. This post I have chosen to share, with you all...
I have spoken a bit about my Dad, his illnesses, and the choices he had recently made for "end of life". I shared he had been placed under Hospice care.
With great sorrow, and a pain-filled heart... I want to share, that this past Sunday, October 23, 2016, @ 9:10am, my most remarkable, loving and courageous Daddy, passed on. At the age of 71.
He went peacefully, in his sleep. He was called home.
His Hospice nurse, a most wonderful man, named Jim, was with him. My family did not have time to make it to the hospital, before my Dad passed on. Jim has told us, that he truly believes, that my Dad, with his strong will, left his earthly home before we made it to the hospital because he had wanted us all to be "safe"... (Jim's view is that my Dad passed peacefully, knowing that those he loved most, were at home, and would not be at the hospital to see him pass, and have to drive home, after dealing with his passing on.)
As I heard those words, I believed them... that is how my Dad was... always looking after 'us", his children, wife... and others. My Dad's words of;
"I love you very much, honey. Drive safe." filled my head, as I thought of all the times I had visited my parents, and would be getting ready to go home afterwards. My Dad would ask me to "text him" when I got home, or I would get the "Daddy text", just moments after I reached home.
Yet, it is all SO surreal. Being that it has only been 2 days, I suppose, that feeling that way is normal. Yet, I do not like feeling this way.
I am not angry. I am not in denial... 2 of the Grief charts processes of dealing with the loss of a loved one... actually, I don't believe I fit any of the stages... maybe I will, as the following days, weeks, months arrive... or maybe I wont. I am sure; no one truly knows that answer.
Ironically, almost 2 weeks before, I had called my counselor... I was having such a difficult day, hurt, sad... and I had set up an appointment, for my daughter and myself, to meet with her. My counselor offered to see me that very day, yet I declined. She was to be out-of-town, the week of the 17th, but I knew I was able to wait. She hesitantly agreed, and checked on me, before her trip.
In my deepest core, I somehow knew that my Dad would pass on, near the end of those 2 weeks. At the time of my call, my counselor let me set up the appt. She moved her schedule around, to accommodate my plea, to see her on October 24th... yesterday.
NO one had given us a "timeline" or a set day, that my Dad would pass on... they couldn't. Yet, I just somehow... knew. 10/24 is also my Mother's birthday, she turned 69.
My relationship, with my Mother has always been tainted, to say the least, yet, my daughter and I spent the entire afternoon with her, the day my Dad passed on. For the "first" time, in I can't even recall how long, my Mother and I spent quality time together. No ill feelings, animosity, or angst... We were a daughter, who lost her Daddy, after 47.5 yrs of having him in her life, and a mother, who had just lost her husband, of 50 years. Loving each other. I am trying NOT to question "why", or "how" we seemed to have passed, the barrier, of all those years of hurt, (we even discussed much of the past between her and me) and spent a loving, supportive, tear-filled, laughter mingled day.. Talking about the man, we had in common. Celebrating him, not mourning him. Like a "gift" from my Dad... left for just my Mother, and I. My daughter was there watching, and listening. She knows of much of my past with my Mother...
To my Dad, those 2 women, my daughter, and my mother, will always be, his "2 most favorite red-heads”.
At my counseling appointment yesterday, my daughter and I spoke of how we were, how we felt... I felt calm. My daughter is not as "open", and I tend to worry about her being an "emotional stuffer"... and she was as well, at our appt. My counselor assessed us as "being in shock". No. No, I disagree. After watching, researching his diagnoses, and being with my Dad, these past 25 years, since he was first diagnosed, at 46... He underwent so many trial treatments, took 24 different medications a day... 3x open-heart surgeries... a defib, heart attacks... etc. I am NOT in shock.
I am NOT sure how I feel... relief, he is no longer in pain, proud, to be his daughter...many emotions mixed together.
I know I hurt. I awoke this morning crying. I am sure I will again. My anxiety/panic attacks, I have been beating back with a stick... and being prone to depression, I am aware it could strike... I have shared I am a cutter, and a burner... yet, I feel no desire or urge to do so... My "sobriety" from that behavior was a long and terrifying journey. One far worse, than facing the reality that my Dad has passed on... BUT yes, I hurt.
I needed/wanted, to share this part of my life's journey, with the Connect group. Maybe reaching out, sharing... looking for support... I am not sure. I DO know, that my heart has been touched by many of you here, your stories I have read, your advice I have saved, and how I've related, to SO many of you.. A "safe" place... where I can just be, "me".
There are TWO realizations that I have come to, in the weeks leading to my Dad's passing... probably the 2 things that will bother me the most, until I figure out what to do with them...
“To my Dad, all of us around him, those he put before himself, loved and nurtured, WE were his world. To US, those that love him, looked to him for support and guidance, a smile, or a life lesson, HE was the CENTER of our world.”
@colleenyoung
Hi..I somehow seemed to have reported my own post. ?? Reported by me, or the site itself, I'm not sure.
I am unable to add the last part of my original post, and I tried where you see the next post that just says; CONT..
Any advice? I'd like to complete my post, and unreport myself..lol 🙂 Thank you.. Officially, Technically Borked. ~ Kim
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Oh gosh @kimsworld that is quite the feat 🙂 I deleted the CONT... post that you started (and reported). Why don't you reply to the post that you wanted to continue and complete it there. Then I will remove this post and the post where you told me about the unintentional flag, so they won't interrupt the flow of your 2 messages. Make sense?
Hi, @colleenyoung you made perfect sense! 🙂
However, lol when I try to "reply", as a CONT to my original post, above, I get a "Please provide text for this post." message, even though the text body IS there, ready to post. (And, you all know I can write, so providing text is simple for me... lol)
Then, when I click, POST REPLY... that message appears in red, in the lower, left hand corner, directly across from the POST REPLY button. ( It giggled at me.. lol)
LOL... I think I can see you Colleen, shaking your head, going "huh?" 🙂 I am... lol only me, only me... lol *sigh* 🙂
I am somewhat "tech savvy"... "somewhat".. lol and have not had this happen before. So, I am wondering if the reason I cannot reply, off my original post, is because I "reported" the post... lol?
I'm not sure that is what's happening so I am going to try and post the little bit I had left, my CONT portion, here in this reply to you... and see what happens.. (Since my Dad passed Sunday, my world has been upside down... as frustrating as this posting issue is, I am laughing... I can see my Dad, shaking his head, with a big grin on his lips... lol He was "Our go to guy"... for things like this...)
Okay, trying now...
CONT-
Oh, Wow! How odd is that? @colleenyoung *looking at you, with a puzzled look on my face*
It will NOT allow me to post the remaining paragraph I had for my CONT portion. See above? How odd, just the CONT part posted in my test of adding it to my reply, to you.
I am a strong spiritual believer. I believe in God. I believe that things happen for a reason...
This may sound odd... but maybe I am NOT supposed to post the last bit I wrote.
It holds a very personal moment I had with my Dad. I have not shared it with anyone, not even my family.
Maybe, I am meant to keep that last bit to myself, and look at my Dad's words a bit closer... What I have been trying to post is my SECOND realization... maybe I need to replay that conversation, between my Dad and myself a bit more, before I consider the "message" in his words, a "realization", on my part.
My Dad used to tell me "Share what you need to but do not give everything you feel, away”.
I think, I am going to take this, "NOT being able to post my CONT" as being a personal moment, therefore "Un-postable", just as my Dad is, "Unforgettable”.
*** Thank you... to anyone that has taken the time to read my post. Thank you, @colleenyoung, for your help. 🙂
I know I write rather lengthy posts, and my journals are proof, I always have.
My catharsis. My heart. My thoughts, my emotions... how could they ever be, anything but lengthy?
So, my deepest gratitude, for those of you, who have taken the time to read this post, and my others...*** ~ Kim
Kim, I often remember something a moment after posting a message. So I go to the online message and, using the "Edit" function, add another paragraph. Sometimes I compose the addition online, but often I do so in Notebook then copy it and paste it into the Edit window.
Connect
Kim, it's hard to understand the irrational behavior of so many parents. I was blessed with wonderful, loving parents, though I know they had some faults - who doesn't? Having an abusive or unloving parent can make it very difficult to get used to the idea of a loving heavenly Father. Mine was the giver of punishment, usually spanking, but never in anger or in a mean way.
Having been in Christian ministry for 45 years, I've seen some sad examples of how not to treat spouses and children. In my own family, I know now that mom and dad did their best, and vowed early on to raise their children differently than they were raised. I, in turn, vowed to do things better than my parents, and it may be that our kids will want to do a better job than we did. Too often, though, we tend to pass on the inappropriate way we were raised to the next generation. i.e. - children of alcoholic parents become alcoholics themselves, and the same addiction is found in their children. At some point, the behavior has to be challenged in order to break the generational tradition.
You've been a survivor, rather than a victim of a litany of issues which would destroy many of us. I commend your ability to recognize the dysfunctional relationships around you, and to have the love and courage to support and care for your father. He's a blessed man. I pray that you'll have the wisdom and understanding to walk the final days with your father, be a comfort to him, and to help him face death without fear of it. If he's made the arrangements for the next, eternal stage of his life, he will die in peace, looking forward to the true goal in this brief earthly life, that being an eternity of peace with no suffering or pain or unhealthy relationships. I pray that for him.