"Crazy is as crazy does"

Note: I had intended to post today a recap of all the May tips, given that this is the last day of the writers' group May Blogathon; however, in light of what day it is and something that happened in my neighborhood this week, I was moved to write about that instead...

What is it with mothers who kill themselves?

I know. It's a serious question, and I just put it out there, like, out of the blue. Why? Because in just one year, I have known two women--both mothers--who chose to take a gun and shoot themselves dead. Let me repeat that! I have known two women--in one year--who attempted and succeeded at killing themselves.

Just this week, my neighbor did this to herself. About a year ago in June, a good friend of mine, whom I hadn't seen in a while, did it. They obviously meant to die because they didn't use a soft approach, such as swallowing a whole bottle of sleeping pills. This wasn't a cry for help. They were beyond that. These were deliberate acts. They both chose a very brutal and final method of harming themselves--they used their own gun, pointed it at the head, and pulled the trigger.

It's a harsh reality that I think needs to be addressed, because if you read anything at all about suicide, you'll note the attention is mostly placed on men. Why? Because men have a higher rate of "success." Women may attempt suicide more often, but it's the men who succeed in their attempts, or their attempts are actual suicides and not cries for help.

Unfortunately, that's not the story I'm seeing play out. And as I've been thinking about these two beautiful women who both attempted and succeeded, I note several connections:

_Although they never knew each other (as far as I know), there were both born and raised in Phoenix.

_They were both mothers of only one child.

_They both had fibromyalgia and perhaps Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.

_And they were both obsessively apt to shower you with praise or cheer you on, while at the same time unable to do the same for themselves.

Does any of this mean anything at all? I don't know. I think we get closer to the "reason" as we move down the list. They both felt a certain amount of physical pain (with no end), and they both suffered from a lack of self-esteem. These are the knowns. There were likely many unknowns that added to the weight of their decision to end their lives. There were probably several risk factors involved that I'm not aware of (I didn't know Ann that well, and Micki and I hadn't seen or talked to each other for at least a year before her death.)

MICKI

When I was in regular contact with Micki, whenever I'd phone her--the one who died last year--she'd ask how things were going. I'd tell her. Sometimes it wouldn't be great news. And there she'd go, telling me how great I was. I wasn't calling her for compliments. I was calling her to stay in touch, to be real with my friend. But she'd go on and on, showering me with all these niceities. I'd have to change the subject to get her to stop. It often made me feel uncomfortable, because the compliments weren't warranted.

I often wondered during those moments if she was fishing for compliments from me. I never asked. It seemed rude. And I'm not the type of person to just compliment people for no good reason. It feels inauthentic to me.

But maybe I should have with Micki. I don't know. I'll never know. And it's not like she didn't talk about her own issues. She did. She had plenty. She even saw a therapist regularly; she was seeing one right up to that very week she died. But that didn't eliminate her pain, apparently. She had to kill herself to do that, leaving behind a beautiful young daughter who was just starting out her career far away from home. Micki left quite a mess for her daughter to clean up. After she died, I found out a lot about her from her daughter that I never knew. None of it really explained a good enough reason to off yourself. But we can't know the demons that lurk inside someone else's head. Micki found a way to excise them.

ANN

And then there's Ann. My neighbor Ann. I saw her every day. There is a group of women in my neighborhood, and we all have dogs, and we all run into each other while walking them. Sometimes we walk together, sometimes not. But we see each other every single day. We'll no longer get to see Ann and her dog. We'll never hear her tell the stories about what she does for that dog. She was in love with that creature, paid $50 a week to get him groomed (a van service that came to her door), and never let him be alone for a second. She wouldn't even leave him at the neighborhood pet sitter's house. She treated that dog better than she treated herself.

Now that's she's gone, no one's expecting her husband (now the widow) and her son (just 14) to continue living here. I don't think I could. And Ann made sure that things were ready for a sale before she died. She'd obviously planned well. The week of her death, she had a new roof put on the house. And she made sure not to kill herself inside the house. She laid a blanket down in the backyard.

It's hard to talk about Ann. She was a very private person. In the four or five years we've lived here--and we've all lived here about the same length of time--none of us even knew her last name. She was always asking about you. But she didn't talk much about herself. You could ask, but she'd turn the conversation back around. If you weren't feeling well, like Micki, she'd offer advice. And I often felt it was advice she knew she needed for herself. She'd say things that suggested she knew she worked to hard to help other people yet did very little for herself. It's like she knew this, but it never stopped.

A few months ago, she paid to have her next door neighbor's yard cleaned up. They were dealing with a foreclosure and couldn't afford it. So Ann took care of it for them. And she loved the fact that I rode a bike. She also rode. I remember seeing her on the canal bank. Though lately, she'd been feeling so sick, she couldn't do that anymore. In the past month, whenever I'd see her out walking, she didn't have the same level of energy. I thought it was her illness that she didn't want anyone to know about. So no one asked. She didn't feel well and didn't want you to ask her about it.

We let her have her way. Maybe we shouldn't have. We all knew she was hurting; her gait made her look as though she was dead already, barely going to make it. But none of us wanted to pry. There was one of us in the neighborhood that she started calling every day this last month, however. and vented. For whatever reason, that didn't help. And she wouldn't admit she was depressed. She called the depression her "moods," and I was told she would have never seen a therapist about it, anyway. Ann had also been upset that the doctors couldn't find a cure for whatever ailed her.

So she found it herself.

SOLUTIONS OTHER THAN SUICIDE?

So why am I telling you this? I'm not sure we can stop suicide. I think people who make up their minds, like Micki and Ann, to "fix" their problems with suicide will probably do it eventually. But maybe not. Maybe there's something that can be done to alter their decision. I'd like to think this is not an obstacle that can't be overcome.

However, I'm not a big fan of what people tell the sufferers to do, either. Things like seeing a doctor, visit a therapist, talk to someone, and look for tips online are not going to fix this. I'm not saying don't do any of it. Of course you should, if you can. But people who just feel depressed and want to seek help have a hard enough time to finding the energy or mental stability to make these calls. Trust me. I've been there. Someone who is past that and moved on to the desperate/hopeless stage?! I find it hard to believe they can go this route themselves. They don't. That's why they die.

To me, that leaves it up to the doctors they do see, the friends they already are talking to, the family members who actually live with them. Those of us who fit these categories have to open our eyes. If someone is confiding in you, there is one thing you can do. Watch for changes in behavior. That's where you'll find the clues. But only if you recognize them. And that's not easy to do, not if someone doesn't want to be "seen."

"Crazy is as crazy does." Those were wise words Forest Gump's mother told him in the movie by the same name. It means you're only as crazy as you act. But see what I mean? It all rests in the behavior. If you're not there to witness it beforehand, you're not going to be able to do anything about it. If you're present, keep your eyes open. Before it's too late, there will be cries for help.

Let's pray or meditate on that.

Thoughts?

The truth about suicide

Last night, I attended the memorial for my friend Micki. It's been more than a month now that my friend, who was in deep mental anguish, shot herself. Her daughter planned and organized a very special memorial--with video footage and heartfelt words--with the help of at least a dozen of her own friends. And it was the most amazing service I've ever seen.

It reminded me of a trip I took not long ago to tour the historic inn in Winslow, Ariz., called La Posada. The new owners, who are refurbishing the place and rebuilding it to its original concept, are artists. But they're also adding their artistic flair to the decor. Included in that flair is a mural-sized painting by one of the owners, Tina Mion, that hangs inside the ballroom. Called, “A New Years Eve Party in Purgatory for Suicides," the subject of the painting is obvious. Everyone painted in the scene have killed themselves in one way or another. And they are all seated at tables. There are famous people, celebrities, and friends of the artist. I wish I had more details, but I don't recall the artist's exact words as she was relating the story behind the painting, which could be considered rather macabre. It doesn't have to be. It's really quite fascinating, and its impact is huge. It really makes you think. As the artist herself was explaining the reason behind the large painting and why it was hanging so visibly in the ballroom of the hotel, she said her reasons had to do with the fact that people do not discuss suicide. They ignore it. They pretend it doesn't exist. People can hardly say the word out loud. Mion's painting suggests suicide needs to be discussed, that though it may never fully be understood, healing still needs to occur. For that to happen, suicide needs to be spoken about. So the painting was there to make that statement. It's a powerful statement. And I've remembered it.

I didn't think I'd need it, though.

Not till my friend committed suicide.

At her memorial, when Kristin began to speak about Micki and share her mother's pain--in all it's ugliness--she did not stop short at the word. She stated it matter-of-factly, "My mother killed herself." She shared with us her own pain in trying to accept this fact. She shared with us her fear, her anger, her many other facets of feeling as she's been learning how to cope with the magnitude of the reason behind her mother's death. She even said she's wondered if she could have stopped the suicide. And then she let us know she didn't believe she could have. She knew she didn't have that kind of power. And she cried.

We cried, too.

Surprisingly enough, no one seemed to recoil at this young girl's brave words. What I felt was positive energy. In that room, I could feel the urges to jump up there and hug this young woman who is so clearly in pain herself.

I have never been so moved.

I ask you, my readers, to pray for Kristin as she steps forward in this new life without the only parent she ever knew. I ask you to pray for her continued strength, and that you ask that she also find relief from that strength. I ask that you pray for her in all ways you think someone in her place can use the assistance. And I ask you to not be afraid to speak of suicide if it should happen to anyone you know in your life.

The truth about suicide is that it's painful, it's ugly, it's raw. The truth about suicide is that it's whatever you think it is. And further, the truth is that we may not be able to stop it, but we can certainly work at trying. Ignoring it won't make it go away. Pretending it doesn't exist won't make it stop. But allowing those who are experiencing suicide, as ones who are left behind, to speak about it freely and candidly will help them heal. Let us all be a part of that healing.

All my best,
Jackie

Inspirational moments occur when you let them

I write about divorce a lot here. It happened to be a major obstacle that threatened to change my life for the worst. At least, that's what it does for a lot of people. With conscious and continued effort, I managed and am managing not to let that happen. I'm very thankful, and that's one reason why I share my message here and elsewhere. I know mine was an obstacle that, unfortunately, 50 percent of married couples face today.

It's all too common, but I know it's also just one obstacle out of millions that people deal with daily. So that's why I'm posting this link today about Daryn Kagan. When the former CNN anchor was faced with the loss of a job--CNN chose not to renew her contract after 12 years of service--she didn't let the "rejection" ruin her. She let it take her on a new path--the path of telling inspiring stories, including her own. She has a new book out called What's Possible! that I intend to buy. In it, she tells the stories of people who have overcome impossible odds. What could be more inspiring?!

As I think about my friend who recently committed suicide, I am also thinking: why couldn't she overcome what was disturbing her? Perhaps it was the bi-polar. But when I look back at her life and the 20+ years I knew her, I can see that she had so many other things that didn't go right, including her health. Near the end, she'd just lost her mother to pancreatic cancer and was dealing with a legal issue as well. Perhaps she just gave up. But she left behind a beautiful daughter who now has her own "rejection" to deal with. Luckily, she knows she is not alone. Because of tragedies like these, I look for inspiring moments. I want to see how other people like the Daryn Kagan's of the world overcome their odds. I'm not judging my friend. Not at all. Not ever. I can see that her pain was too deep for her to handle any more. But I do wish, for her daughter's sake, at least, that she could have seen the light. Despite the spiritual nature she believed she had--She left affirmation notes all over her home--she somehow she missed that.

If you're dealing with troubling times, I ask you to look for the light. And realize that there have been difficult days in your life before. We all experience them on various levels. Think of them now. What obstacles have you overcome lately? What was the worst thus far? How did you come out of it? Did you always know you would?

Share your stories here with others so we can benefit from your lesson learned. That's the purpose of sharing. We can all learn from each other.

All my best,
Jackie