I don’t really know how things work up there. One thing is for certain though, from here on out...my worst days, are your very best now.
Eleven years gone too soon,
but one day closer always.
It was a few days after my 26th birthday. My oldest cousin Nick — the sweetest, kindest, most outgoing and lively human bean you ever did meet — took his own life. I’ll never forget that phone call from my mom when she told me the news: one minute I was sitting at my desk, and the next my life was forever changed.
Grief changes you at your core, but suicide is a whole different realm.
There were so many questions left unanswered. And guilt, just this overwhelming sense of guilt, a feeling that I could’ve done or said something – I should’ve done or said something – to prevent this from happening. A reaction that is often had and felt when someone you love takes their life on their own accord. From the outside looking in, he seemed to be okay. We’d talked frequently on the phone, filling each other in on our jobs, our lives, and Colorado sports. But there was a deeper pain that was living inside of him that he did not talk about. A pain that was just too hard to bear.
I found out later that Nick had been dealing with severe depression for quite a while, turning to alcohol to numb and quiet his thoughts and heartache.
There are many complex reasons and factors that go into a suicide attempt, but possibly the most simple way to explain it is that the individual’s perception of their pain outweighs any hope they may have for the future.
This was the case for my cousin.
Yes, it does get better and there is support out there – but that doesn’t necessarily mean the person in question feels that way. The reality they may be living in might be quite different from the way you perceive their life from the outside.
It’s easy, for instance, to look at a successful, seemingly outgoing and happy person and think that they are thriving. But we honestly have no idea what people go through – whether they’re suffering from depression, acute loneliness, anxiety, or another mental health issue that may be affecting their day-to-day functioning. Until you’ve been in a suicidal person’s shoes, it can be difficult to discern how excruciating their pain might feel.
Addiction can be a silent killer as well, and is another leading cause of suicide. Not only does substance abuse increase the likelihood that someone will attempt suicide, it may even be used as part of the attempt. When people are under the influence of drugs and alcohol, their inhibitions can be lowered, their impulses can run the show and any existing mental health conditions can also be exacerbated.
After Nick’s death, I was inconsolable. Not only because I missed him — I did and still do, terribly — but also because he had so much to live for. We all did. We were so young. Youth is often wasted on the young, as they say.
He hardly had that chance to waste it though, before it was wasted on him.
It felt unfair. It was unfair. Loss always is, especially in this way.
I am now the exact age Nick was when he took his life, almost to the day. It’s really made me think about the idea of life and death, our mortality, in a whole other light. It’s made me more in tune with how the people around me are feeling–truly feeling. Time is the one thing we all wish we had more of, but sometimes it can be taken away from us without so much as a warning. With the passing of my cousin, and so many others I know who have lost loved ones to suicide, we are so strongly reminded that these issues do not discriminate and that mental health is something that needs to be prioritized.
I have spoken with my husband and with good friends who have all lost someone they love this way. My dad, a retired colonel in the Air Force, has lost many great friends and fellow soldiers after they took their lives, the weight of the world just too heavy to carry anymore. Suicide is a silent epidemic that is only growing and becoming more prevalent by the minute. It leaves survivors constantly questioning “Why?” and “How?” I don’t think we ever really get the answers. At least not the ones we want to hear.
Unfortunately, there is still a great amount of emotional invalidation, stigma, misinformation, harmful stereotyping, and shame surrounding the topic of suicide.
That’s why it’s so important to continue the conversation.
It’s important to talk about why suicide attempts and ideation occur.
It’s important to destigmatize the suffering of those who may be shouldering their pain in silence.
It’s important to be mindful of how we treat those who choose to share their struggles, that not everyone may be as open in coming forward or reaching out for help.
It’s important to be there for the ones we love, to show kindness and grace, and to try and not put blame on those who have taken their own lives, but instead honor and remember them in every possible way we can.
There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t miss Nick, or think about him: what he would be doing now, if he’d be happy, if our lives would be different. I like to think he would be married, maybe even have a couple of kiddos. He would coach youth soccer and jam out on his guitar with friends on the weekends. Most importantly, he would be happy. Really happy.
I can only hope that he finally found peace and that he is finally…free.
I love you, dooder.
For more information about suicide prevention and actionable items you can take to spread awareness, you can visit the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline.