My Story Begins with Kati

My story begins with Kati. It’s her story, really. A sad tale of her beloved brother taking his own life when they were in high school. Kati and I have been friends for some time now. I am the babysitter of her 2 adorable and loving children. Thru my daycare, we have formed a bond. As the years passed, our bond blossomed into a friendship to rival any two best friends. Thru our friendship, she has been able to share with me, little by little, how her brother’s suicide has affected her over the past 21 years, and how difficult it still is to confront. On an evening, this past fall, she told me about the AFSP Overnight walk and how badly she wanted to participate in it. But going it alone was a little bit overwhelming. As the Thelma to her Louise (actually, I don’t know which of us is which character – oddly enough neither of us has seen that movie), I cheerfully announced that I would walk with her! I had been looking for a chance to get involved in anything to raise awareness for anything worthwhile. I could relate in some ways to her pain…


I had a friend. A very dear friend, whose friendship was an easy one. He was a part of a group of people that I held very close to me at one time. We’ve drifted apart over the years, as friends sometimes do, but we are all united by this one person and his tragic passing. He was in my wedding in 2002. And three months after, he was dead from a gunshot wound to his head. This made no sense to anyone who knew him. He was Mr. Gun Safety! Raised around rifles his whole life, he knew what precautions to take when cleaning them. Was it an accident? Was it intentional? No one will ever know. We were all left with so many unanswered questions. Sadness, fear, anxiety… I could easily imagine how the loss of one’s own flesh and blood would tear you apart. My friend felt like my brother. He still does. I miss him. Every day. I am lucky in that I can visit his grave whenever I need to. Sometimes to talk. Sometimes to sit and think. Sometimes to just enjoy the quiet with my dear friend.


He was smart, funny, sensitive, and a real S-O-B when he wanted to be. But my favorite quality of his was his honesty. Brutal at times, but always appreciated. Sometimes I find harsh truths when I sit by his graveside. Sometimes he’s the only one I can trust my secrets to. I think it would make him happy to know he is still my confidant. I know it brings me comfort. We shared the same lucky number, 23. His high school football number and my birth date. There was no him without 23. And no longer a 23 without him. Same with our unlucky number, 11. Determined unlucky by him during one of our many games of cards and it stuck. That 11 gets me all the time! Most recently, 11 weeks ago.


My husband and I had been together for 11 years when I decided it was time for us to go our separate ways. Like 11 years to the date, oddly enough. As I said, 11 weeks ago things changed for me. My depression was at an all-time low, and our rocky marriage had me on the verge of a divorce for a while. I finally broke down. I was watching a movie, alone; with a very moving performance by Anne Hathaway dealing with her sister’s wedding and being fresh out of rehab. Her struggles with self-worth and her desire to make amends and participate in her family event were sore spots for me. I cried a lot while watching her go thru this horrendous wedding weekend. The crying would last for 2 more days.


I had enough. I was tired. So tired from my marriage issues. From carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders (so it seemed). Tired from not being able to sleep at night. Tired of fighting for my own self worth. I had a bottle of sleeping pills in my drawer that I didn’t use. They made me nauseous, so I stuck with over-the-counter stuff that worked. But I never threw away the prescription ones. What if I took 10? THEN I would sleep. No more being tired! Simple enough, right? Perhaps too simple. I wasn’t thinking about my children or my family or my friends. Or what would really happen if I took those 10 pills. The sleep would be permanent. But thru my tears and misery, I wasn’t thinking about that part of it.


I texted Kati. If anyone could help me snap out of a funk, SHE could! But even she couldn’t this time. I was lower than I had ever been before. But because of her involvement with AFSP and her experiences with her brother, she knew it was time to ask some tough questions. She’s such a great friend because she didn’t lay lip service on me or try to pump me full of sunshine. She simply asked “Sweetheart, are you thinking of hurting yourself?” Well, no, I didn’t want to hurt myself! I want the hurt to stop. I want to sleep. I want to escape the pain once and for all. Here, I was past the point of ideation of suicide and hadn’t even realized it. Now I was scared. And so very ashamed. But she never backed down and I eventually called the suicide crisis line. Thankfully. My own therapist wouldn’t return my call for 2 days. It was the weekend and he was out of town.


It was a long rough weekend. The crying never stopped. Just looking at the sweet faces of my 3 children made me start sobbing uncontrollably. I couldn’t get out of bed except to use the bathroom. The sweet lady on the crisis line recommended that I go to the hospital to get evaluated. My family doctor insisted that I go get evaluated. But what would happen? Would I find myself in a straight jacket? ...in a padded cell? ...drugged past the point of knowing who I am? I was so scared! Kati kept encouraging me. She never faltered. I have another very dear friend, I call her Lil Sis. She and my brother were together for far too long before they broke off their engagement for me to walk away from our relationship. Well, Lil Sis works in the ER. I texted her and in a panic, she called me right away. We both cried a little. She told me what to expect, which was nothing like I imagined. Whew! And by the 3rd day of this breakdown I was in the hospital waiting for my evaluation. Now, it took 2 Xanax and a lot of cigarettes to get me there, and while in the waiting room I sat with my husband and just cried for Lil Sis, till she came out from the back. Then we sobbed together for a while. This was so hard to do!! I finally felt ok enough to go on and see what the evaluation was to bring me.


Food with no silverware. A room with but a bed. A bathroom with no sharp edges anywhere. And then, an ambulance ride to Philhaven Behavioral Health Organization in the middle of the night. Monday night. I was committing myself until I felt safe enough to be back in my home. By the end of the day Tuesday, I was feeling much better. By Wednesday, I was smiling and laughing with the other patients, feeling so lucky to be in this wonderful hospital! I was safe. There was no pressure. It felt like what a kindergarten summer camp would be. My fellow patients were so inspiring and supportive! It was truly one of the most amazing experiences of my life. By Wednesday night, the aides were kidding me that I filled my smile quotient for the day and had to stop. Thursday morning I was released. I didn’t want to go, but I didn’t want to hide away from my problems. I had a family counseling session before my discharge. I was a nervous wreck, but promises were made and bargains struck and out the door I was sent.


The very first thing I did was go visit my 23. I had to tell him I understood why he left. In the event it was intentional, I now understood just how low he must have felt. And how hard it would have been to reach out to a friend. The embarrassment. The shame. The guilt. Oh, how I wished he had known about the crisis number. Being able to talk to someone without judgments on your thoughts and/or actions is extremely freeing. And very helpful. If only he knew!!


How many other people suffer in silence and then take their own lives because they just can’t reach out to a loved one, for fear of the shame? Or because they just don’t know how to reach out? Or who to reach out to? I had a renewed sense of purpose to do the walk with Kati. My own story, my own desire for people to know they can reach out and get help, because they know where to turn.


Now, my marriage lasted but another month after my stay in Philhaven. I realized that it wasn’t healthy anymore, and my husband agreed we needed to go our separate ways. Since then, I have been growing stronger and stronger with each passing day. Not that I don’t have my low points, but overall I am moving forward and it feels so good! I am so thankful to so many people for supporting me, but mostly to my Kati for knowing where to send me for help. She is my angel right here on earth. And I am so honored to walk hand in hand with my angel and her friend Cathy as the Mamma Mias as we take this amazing journey of 18 miles in the dark together, to raise awareness and help prevent suicide. If our efforts reach just one person, then so be it. Kati’s efforts have already reached me. But with your help, we hope to reach many, many more.


The walk is June 26, and my fundraising goal is $1123.


xo
Amy