I miss her

I’ve been wanting to write a post about religion, and the absence of it in my life.  This is my third attempt.  I can’t put into words how I feel.  I don’t believe in God. I used to.  I’ve been hurt by religion.  I walked away and haven’t looked back.  It’s not as simple as that, but maybe that’s all I need to say about that.

The reason I’ve been struggling with this post for the past week and a half is because today is the 8th anniversary of my friend’s suicide.  It’s such a weird time of year for me, since Mini Moo’s birthday falls less than a week prior to that.  So there’s this huge build up to the kid’s birthday; days, weeks, months of planning the party (I went a bit nuts this year) and what gifts to get and an almost immediate crash into missing my friend even more than normal.

This year it’s even harder for me.  I know someone who’s struggling with suicide.  I don’t know this person well, but someone who’s really important to me knows this person really well.  He’s a young person who doesn’t fully realize the impact suicide has on the people left behind.  I miss my friend all the time.  There are times where it’s so bad, I can’t function properly.  There are times I’m so angry at her that I want to punch things, throw things, destroy things.  I can’t yell at her, so what other option do I have?  Most of all, I miss talking to her.

She was funny, so smart, loved animals, being active, and being with her friends.  She adored her family.  She had her own business.  She was a light.  She struggled with depression and thoughts of suicide.  She had a hard time finding her own identity.  She believed in God, but had a lot of questions that couldn’t be answered.

And now she’s gone.

We can’t ever talk to her over the phone.  We can’t post stupid quizzes on her Facebook wall and find out what flower she is (she’d be a green tulip).  Her family can’t hug her.  Her pain made her blind to all the amazing things she brought to this world, and she took that from us.  I’ll love her forever, and I’ll never stop mourning her death.  But I don’t think I’ll ever forgive her for that moment of selfishness.

I wish I could grab this kid by the shoulders and say, “Don’t you dare!! Don’t you dare deprive the world of all you have to offer! Don’t you dare leave a hole in the hearts of your family and friends that will never be filled!”  I have talked to him about how suicide has impacted me and my friends.  One of my best friends has also talked to him about her own experiences with suicide.  He listens to us, and all the people who are trying to help him, but I worry he doesn’t hear us.

Like with my friend, he can’t see past the wall of pain.  All he knows is that living... that taking that next breath... is just too hard.  He’s convinced that people won’t give a shit if he lives or dies.  He thinks those who love him will move on in no time, and things will be better for everyone around him.

Unfortunately when someone’s in such a dark hole, there’s little that can be said to that person to convince them otherwise.  All we can do is love them, give them as much support and encouragement as we can, and try to show them how our lives are so much richer with them in it.  My life will never be the same without my friend in it.  The same is true for her family and friends.  The same would be true if this kid does the unthinkable.  Many lives will be profoundly impacted by his loss.  I just hope he realizes this before it’s too late.

If you’re in a scary place, please know that you’re not alone.  There are people who are there to help you.  If you feel you can’t talk to your family and friends, there are help lines you can call.  You can go to the hospital.  You can call the police.  You can talk to a teacher or counselor at school.  Please don’t convince yourself that no one will help and please don’t stop asking for help. There will be someone who can help.

If you are thinking of hurting yourself, please call someone for help.
If you suspect someone around you may be suicidal and you don’t know what to do, please call someone for help. 

Below is a list of resources that you can use for help.

Kids Help Phone (Canada)

Canadian Association for Suicide Prevention (Canada)

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (USA)

American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (USA)

Papyrus (UK)

Samaritans (UK)

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For resources close to you, wherever you are in Canada click here
List of suicide crisis lines by country
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If your country isn’t listed, and you would like me to include them on my list, please leave a comment below and I will do what I can to include a national number or resource on this post.

Someone loves you.  Even if it’s someone you don’t know or haven’t met yet.  Trust me in this.


I love you.

Her Unfull Arms

Her arms are loaded down  -  overflowing  -  bare

But will they every be full?

Knowing her child won't ever be in her loving embrace?

A mother's arms provide love  - comfort  - strength

Her child is now somewhere else  - gone  - taken

Dead

Love a mother when she hugs you

With her unfull arms.

9/11

I remember exactly what I was doing, where I was and what I was thinking/feeling on 9/11. 

I was 18 years old, and I had spent the night at a former friend's house.  I was crashing on the couch, and her dad just came in from his early morning job delivering news papers.  I used the crash at their house a lot, so I was used to hearing her dad coming in at around 6am.  Normally, I'd just ignore the noise he made and go back to sleep.   On rare occasions I'd say a quick hello, ask him how his day was and then go back to sleep.

This time, it was different.  He came in and immediately woke me up and said, "You need to turn on the TV.  Now."  I was stunned, but did as he said.  I asked him if there was any channel in particular he wanted me to go to and he told me to turn it on to MSNBC.  As I was still pushing away the cobwebs of sleep I was having a hard time really latching on to what was being talked about, but everyone was sounding very tense and worried.  Then, I saw it.  The backdrop to the coverage was a live image of the Twin Towers.  On one of them was a huge plume of smoke. 

"Is that....?" I asked.

"Yeah.  A plane crashed into one of the Twin Towers.  They think it was an accident, but they're not sure." the dad replies. 

"When did this happen?  Do they know who did it?" I'm completely glued to the TV at this point. 

"It just happened.  I heard about it on the radio as I was driving home.  I don't think they know who did it, yet."

We sat there watching the news, quietly contemplating all the repercussions of this.  How many people were hurt?  What happened to the pilot?  Was there something wrong with the plane?  A thousand thoughts, feelings, concerns, questions were racing through my head and then the second plane hit.  I couldn't believe it.  Two planes??  Right then, I knew.  Everything will be forever changed.  In less than ten minutes, the way we look at the world won't ever be the same.  There was no question any more.  This was an attack.

What was really difficult for me was watching the anchor people really struggle with what they were seeing.  I think Brian Williams was on that morning, along with another woman and they didn't have a clue of what to say.  They were seeing this at the exact time we were, so they had no time to process what they were seeing.  No time to compose themselves.  No time to come to terms with the fact that one of their city's greatest landmarks was literally going up in smoke. 

My friend woke up and came out of her room at this point.  I can't remember who got her; it may have been me.  I told her what had happened and it was around this point that we learned about the other planes going down in Pennsylvanian and the Pentagon.  Everyone was quiet in the house.  My friend's toddler son was up and being loud (as toddlers are wont to do) so she put him in their room to play with his toys as we all watched in horror.  More and more footage was coming in, and more and more people were calling in.  Experts, witnesses, politicians.  All of them were trying to keep their cool as they were seeing what was happening.  

Tunnels, bridges, borders, airports; everything was shutting down.  America was locking it's doors. 

It seemed like we were watching the news for days when, two hours after the first plane hit, the southern tower collapsed in itself.  What was odd was the that people watching the coverage were aware of it before the anchor people.  Tears came to my eyes as I watched, knowing that if someone survived that, it would be a miracle. As reports came in that the tower had indeed collapsed, the anchor people just couldn't believe what they were hearing and seeing.  They kept asking the people who were reporting this if they meant something had fallen off the building, or if just a part of the building collapsed, and the people reporting would say, "No. The whole building has collapsed.  There's nothing left.  It's gone."  You could hear them fight back tears as they were fighting to stay professional, trying not to incite fear or panic from their viewers. 

September 11th has always had special meaning to me.  My older brother's birthday was that day.  One of my oldest friends birthday was that day also.  I have always had a reason to celebrate and be thankful for September 11th.  As I was watching New York go up in a plume of smoke, my thoughts went out to these two very important people in my life and about what was possibly going through their minds.  Were they feeling guilty for celebrating their birthdays?  Would they even want to celebrate it anymore?  Would they feel like they shouldn't?  I imagine I would be thinking along those lines if this happened on my birthday.

2,996 died as a result of the 9/11 attacks.  2,977 were innocent victims.  The number of victims of the attacks perhaps cannot be counted.  So many families are grieving the loss of their loved ones who died on that day.  So many people who managed to survive the attacks will be forever haunted by what happened that day. So many people were injured that day, have suffered or perhaps are still suffering from survivor's guilt, post traumatic stress disorder.  Many of those people will forever wear a scar on their bodies that mark that day.  Dozens, if not hundreds, of firefighters, police officers, paramedics, doctors, nurses and other medical, emergency and military personnel have died or were injured as a result of trying to save as many people as they could from the attacks. 

Children lost their parents.  Parents lost their children. 

Everyone around the world watched the day the world changed, just like I did.


*****Writer's Note*****

For many in BC, while this is a day for remembering, it's also a day of joy as a little boy was returned to his parent's loving arms.  Kienan Hebert has been found!  Sparwood RCMP received a call at around 2:00am this morning and were told that Kienan was brought back to his family home.  The Heberts were staying at a friends' house down the road and they saw a large police presence in front of their house.  They went over to their house to see what was going on and they saw Kienan, in the living room, holding his blankie. 

The suspect, still believed to be Randall Hopley, is still at large so please keep your eyes out for him and let the police know if you spot him or his vehicle, a light brown 1987 Toyota Camry, BC License plate 098 RAL.

Just Stop

The other day, a well meaning friend of mine posted a status update on Facebook depicting a scene of a child being abused by his mother and ended the status with “copy and paste this for 1 hour if you’re against CHILD ABUSE”.   When I read the status, I physically winced as it reminded me of things that my family had to live through with my biological father.  I actually felt like I was violated, reading that status. 

There are a lot of these types of statuses out there: “My country is better than any other country in the world, so we shouldn’t help foreigners.  Have the guts to repost this.  1% will repost”, “Copy and paste this if you love your mother.  I bet none of you will.”, “How many people actually read my status and listen to what I have to say.  Copy and paste this to see if your friends actually care about you. Do you dare?”

To those of you who are posting these statues, I beg of you: please stop! 

These statuses are, at best, emotionally manipulative.  At worst, they make me want to not bother reading your status updates, so that when you have something of worth to say, I’m not going to see it.  I don’t support child abuse; I do advocate more support and awareness for mental illnesses; I do love my mom and step-dad.   I don’t, however, love these passive aggressive bullying tactics your statuses employ.   Furthermore, the ones that state “only 1% of people will have the guts to repost this” Is intellectually insulting.  You don’t actually think there are any statistics on the repostability (yeah, I totally just made that word up) of a particular status, do you? 

I guess these statuses are just the next generation of chain letters, but those are equally as awful.  Writing a letter 21 times for 21 different friends within 7 days while standing on my head will not cure that little Lithuanian girl’s alopecia!  If you actually believe that, then I’d like to introduce you to this Nigerian prince I know.  My mother, who I love very much despite the fact that I didn’t copy and paste the status that “proves” just how much I love her, wrote a great post about breaking chain letters that I think every one of you who posts these statuses should read.  Until then, I’m going to repost a status my fiancé wrote that sums this up perfectly: 

“Don't use your Facebook status to tell me to do stuff - you don't really think I hate you, ignore you, and you're not going to kill that puppy if I don't do what you say. Repost this and I'll know you read it, thought it was witty, and agreed with it - I won't read any more into it than that.”

Focused on Can'ts

Because of my temporary disability, I am always filling out various forms and having to answer to so many different people.  The question they always ask is: What can't you do right now? This is such a demoralizing question, as it keeps me rooted in that question, because every time they ask me that question, I have to provide updates on what I can’t do.  For the past three months, that’s been what I’ve been focused on.  What I can’t do.  

Here’s the list:

•  I can’t sit for long periods of time.  The length really depends on the position and chair I am sitting in and my willingness/need to put up with the pain.  I can drive for about 30 minutes, but I’m in discomfort from almost the beginning.  By the time I reach 15-20 minutes, I’m in pain.  I can’t really go beyond 30 minutes.  Not without taking heavy duty pain meds, and then it’s a question of safety because of the meds.  Couches I can’t comfortably sit in, however I can lie down on one.  Office chairs, the chairs at my doctor’s office, at physio are agonizingly uncomfortable. 
•  I can’t swim.  The current and instability and resistance are too much for me.  The hot tub helps, but even walking slow and small steps is awful.  If I go to the pool, which my physiotherapists and doctor wants me to do, I’m in so much pain afterwards I can barely move to a few days afterwards.
• I can’t take my kid to the park.  I do, every now and then (I’ve taken him exactly three times in the past three months), because why suffer for my disability?  When we get home, however, I head straight for bed with a heating pad and lots of medication.
•  I can’t walk more than a few meters without help from my cane.
•  I can’t make dinner for my family, unless it’s something really simple and I’ve had a somewhat pain free day (relatively speaking).
•  I can’t sleep without a heating pad, 2 – 4 morphine pills and a pillow between my knees for when I sleep on my side.
•  I can’t walk up or down stairs without hep from my cane.  Slopes or hills? Forget about it. My hips are put in too awkward of an angle.
•  I can’t ride a bike, go hiking, go to the gym or go horseback riding.  Granted, of the things mentioned, I’ve only been to the gym this past year.
•  I can’t stand for too long.  If I do, my hip starts to throb and my legs start to shake.
• I can’t bend over to pick something up.  Not without doing a really slow pirouette and holding on to a wall or table or something to keep me from falling and to aid me in getting back up.
• I can’t pick up my son. I can’t bend over to give him a hug, or kiss him goodnight.  He needs to climb up on my bed so that I can give him his night time kisses, puppy noses, snuggles and hugs.
•  I can’t afford my bills, or to send my son to daycare so he can hang out with his friends, or to buy little treats for me or my family.  I’ve exhausted most of my options in regards to financial assistance, and am still waiting to see if I’ll be accepted for Long Term Disability.  My fiancé has taken on basically all of the household expenses.  Without him, I’d be pretty screwed right now.
•  I can’t go on vacation this year.  All year since my fiancé got his new job, I’ve been looking forward to going to Las Vegas in the fall with him again.  He took me in 2006 when I was pregnant, and I’ve always wanted to go again with him.  As I go more and more days not working, the dream of actually getting a vacation this year got dimmer and dimmer until all hope of being able to go has been completely snuffed out.  I’m quite bummed out by this.  I try not to dwell on this one too much, but it’s pretty difficult not to. 
•  I can’t plan my wedding this summer. I had been working (with the help of my fiancé) very aggressively on getting rid of a personal debt I had, and I was so freaking close to having it completely paid off.  Once I had accomplished this goal, we were going to start planning our wedding.  I was getting so excited at the prospect of finally sitting down with him and fleshing out a plan.  The longer I stay off work, the more I start to wonder if a wedding is going to happen at all.  It certainly won’t be in the next year.  Not with me not working.  That’s quite depressing.

There are other things on this list, but I’m not able to think of them right now.  The ones I mentioned are the big ones.  The ones I’m faced with almost every day.  My world is all about can’ts right now.  Every day I struggle with depression as I start to see more and more can’ts.  Some days aren’t so bad, some days are scary.  It helps knowing I have allies.  It helps knowing that my fiancé is standing by my side, fighting for me to get better, or to at least make our lives as liveable and as enjoyable as possible with the circumstances presented to us.  It helps knowing that my mom, particularly bad days, is willing to drop everything and just come be an anchor for me; a port in the storm, if you will.  

The more I think about it, actually, the more I realize that I have quite a few ports in the storm.  I am actually quite fortunate.  I’m not so bad off that I’m completely unable to fend for myself.  I’m surrounded by a strong support network; there are a number of people who are willing to help me out.  I still have a roof over my head and food in my fridge.  I live in a country that makes my several trips to the doctor possible.  

I try to keep thinking positive, but with so much negative events appearing in my life in the last 10 (not able to work for a month; fiancé getting laid off; getting injured again, preventing me from working for over 3 months now; getting rear-ended, having my wallet stolen) it’s a lot easier said than done.