Stigma Fighters: Erica R.

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Stigma Fighters: Erica R.

I was at work when I found out Jason had died. Everything else in the world went blurry.

Jason is dead.
Shit.

I looked around my little window-less office,

“I think I think I have to go home now.”

Fuzzy thoughts wondered if I needed special permission to go home early from work. He wasn’t my husband or even my boyfriend. How would they code this? Is there a policy for when the father of your children kills himself? Policy #42.2.1.

I paced my kitchen until my parents arrived and then we sat in the living room and stared at each other.

Should I go get the kids now or do I wait until the end of the day? I dreaded telling them as much as I desperately wanted to get it over with. What should I do? Where is that policy & procedure manual now?

It just felt like they should know now. Shouldn’t they be here in our staring circle?

On the other hand, why waste a perfectly oblivious school day? Once I pick them up, their lives will be forever divided into: Before Daddy Died (BDD) and After Daddy Died (ADD).

I compromised and picked them up an hour before school ended.

My feet dragged as theirs skipped through the park to our home.

“Let’s sit on the couch; I have something to tell you.”

Four sparkling blue eyes looked up expecting me to announce one of my infamous surprise adventures. Instead they got,

“Your Dad died last night.”

And for the second time that day my world increased in blurriness. I think I had to repeat myself. I know we all hugged. There were tears. Blurrrrr……

“But..how?”

They had just seen him 2 days ago. People don’t just die without reason. They knew that.

I fought my desire to say car accident, or heart attack, or alien invasion. You know, anything easier to explain than suicide.

I am so thankful I had been able to call my friend who is a social worker and was as prepared for this question as possible.

“Some people are really sick and you can see it on the outside. Your Dad was sick on the inside where you couldn’t see it. He was sick in his heart and his mind and his soul. And he made a decision to stop his body from working.”

“He must have really been hurting.” Moxie

“Yes, he really was hurting.”

Blurrr…

“Hey, look at that squirrel out the window. He’s so funny.” Moxie

“Can we go out for dinner?” Rain

Okay so I guess we’re done talking about this.

Now what?

Well first, the kids needed dress clothes. The next day my friend brought over a selection from her own kids’ wardrobes and we chose outfits. Now we only needed to buy shoes. Funeral shoes.

We went to Walmart. The adjoining McDonald’s seemed appropriate for dinner. The kids laughed and played as they tried on shoes. Funeral shoes. I was buying shoes for my kids to wear to their Dad’s funeral. Jesus. It was all just so stereotypically surreal. The check-out girl smiled at us as she put the funeral shoes into the plastic bag. I was glad I hadn’t remembered my reusable bags from the car. Funeral shoes belong in plastic Walmart bags.

“We’re buying shoes for their Dad’s funeral”

I wanted to yell it so loud the whole store could hear me. I wanted the check out girl to announce it on the intercom. I was at Walmart, buying funeral shoes for Rain and Moxie because their Dad killed himself.

But instead I smiled back as she wished us a pleasant evening. We put the plastic bag of funeral shoes in the trunk and drove home.

Since then there have been a multitude of ups and downs – Wonderland could only be so lucky to have rights to this shit.

I continue to replay my last conversations with Jason over and over. I knew he was struggling. I didn’t know how much. I can still see his face from the rearview mirror as he buckled up the kids and kissed them good-bye. He seemed happy. Calm. The following night he killed himself. I agonize over wondering if I could have said something to stop him.

“It’s not too late. Please let us help you. Let your friends help you. Let your family help you. You are not alone.”

But instead we said good-bye and drove away.

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Bio:
I am Erica Richmond. I love words, adventures and Canadian Indie music. I am a single parent to Rain (10) and Moxie (8). We call ourselves Team Adventurers because we make an adventure out of every day. Their dad killed himself in May 2014 and since then we have been on a journey of grief, healing and love. We celebrate their dad’s life each and every day. I would never have asked to be a survivor of suicide. But here we are. I am sharing our story to encourage support for people with mental illness and reduce the stigma that will prevent some from seeking help. You are not alone. We can fight this together.
Blog: www.teamadventurers.wordpress.com
Blog (yes, blogs are my addiction): http://love4wor-l-ds.tumblr.com/
Twitter: @pixiepaperdoll7

 

By | 2015-02-17T11:45:33+00:00 November 16th, 2014|Categories: Brave People, Uncategorized|5 Comments

5 Comments

  1. Gary Richmond November 16, 2014 at 9:12 pm - Reply

    The second guessing is definitely one of the worst parts.

  2. jess.⚓ November 17, 2014 at 12:36 am - Reply

    So sorry for your loss 🙁

  3. Dr. Margaret Rutherford November 23, 2014 at 11:39 pm - Reply

    This is a remarkable post Erica. So true to what I have heard from others in your position over and over. I don’t know how long ago your ex’s suicide occurred, but it’s important to remember that the conversation you will have with your children will last for years. It’s not that they will have a terrible time with it. It’s that it takes them time (and you) to absorb and integrate its meaning into who they are. And realize just how they do feel about it. Thank you for sharing this. And good luck.

  4. #BellLetsTalk Day | Team Adventurers January 29, 2015 at 2:10 am - Reply

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