Suicide Prevention Awareness Month is coming to a close in 2 days.
I was approached by a local awareness organization about possibly telling my story and ties to the cause, I would be lying if I said that I wasn't hesitant, scared, and just plain unsure at this request. I went back and forth but ultimately decided that I have nothing to lose, only possible people to help. I didn't choose to write this for sympathy or credit, I chose to write it because it felt right in my heart. I also decided that I wanted to share my writing with my people before the world.
I was approached by a local awareness organization about possibly telling my story and ties to the cause, I would be lying if I said that I wasn't hesitant, scared, and just plain unsure at this request. I went back and forth but ultimately decided that I have nothing to lose, only possible people to help. I didn't choose to write this for sympathy or credit, I chose to write it because it felt right in my heart. I also decided that I wanted to share my writing with my people before the world.
This month always weighs particularly heavy on my heart and on my mind. I try to take it with stride and use my energy to spread what I have found to be somewhat of a passion, awareness and education. When I lost my Mom over four years ago I immediately went into a mode where I was defensive about my story, I was embarrassed of what had occurred, and I didn't particularly want people to know all of the details.
Looking back on my story and where I am currently I have such a different perspective. Instead of being aggressive I am protective, instead of being embarrassed I am proud, and if I can continue to tell my story and the details to help only one single person you bet I will. I've quickly learned that everyone has a story, some are typical and some are well not so typical. Some stories are a little smoother than others and while mine might have had a slight detour it is who I am and I've gotten to a point where I am damn proud of that.
I would be lying if I said I wasn't nervous to post this as it is about as intimate and personal as it gets but I think it shows a tremendous reality that many are unaware of, sometimes the people that you least expect are struggling and you don't always know what is going on at home.
_______
So here it is.
So here it is.
My Mom was addicted to pain pills, since I was around 3 years old. She was in a severe car accident and prescribed painkillers to ease the back pain that was an after effect. I could go on for hours about how many addictions could be prevented but prescription happy doctors exist so we will save that for another day. The pills took over her life, slowly but surely her day to day interactions started to revolve around them.
I don't really remember my Mom not on pills, as sad as that makes me and as hard as it is to say it is the truth. Obviously I had interactions with her completely sober but I never got the see the "Nancy" that my Dad, her friends, and my family talk about. I want to make it clear that in no way shape or form mean that my Mom wasn't a good parent, she was the most amazing/rock star/kick ass person out there. She did a hell of a job raising me. She taught me right from wrong, punished me, yelled at me, and loved me harder than anyone I know. I hope one day to be half of the mother that she was.
The addiction was somewhat of the unspoken topic in my family. Everyone knew about it and acknowledged it in on their own but no one really wanted to talk about it or put it on the table, herself included. The older I got the more aware I was about her situation, what was going on, and the more resentful I became, especially towards the denial but I was in denial myself at time
I'll never forget May 19, 2012, it was my senior prom. Thinking back she hugged me long and hard, I remember noticing that but not thinking anything of it as I was in a rush. Being the typical 17 year old that I was I went to prom and ended up going to a friends lake house afterwards. I tried to call her that evening but my phone had been disconnected. I ended up returning home the next day with my boyfriend at the time, he dropped me off and headed on his way. I tried to unlock the door as usual but couldn't get inside, our deadbolt was locked. Long story short my neighbor eventually came out and said she hadn't heard anything all weekend. I remember her saying we needed to call 911 to get them to take the door down and I thought she was crazy.
It is somewhat of a blur but someone ended up going through a window to unlock our front door. My sweet neighbor knew my Mom was struggling and wouldn't let me go inside. My world changed in that very moment, they found her in bed after she had overdosed on over 100 pills of Norco, a lethal dose of hydrocodone and acetaminophen. She was not conscious but she was alive, as she wasn't expecting me to return for another day. The emotions were unreal, the denial was out of control, and I remember feeling numb thinking that this doesn't happen to people like us when the reality is that this happens to people just like anyone else in this world and people you would never expect.
My Dad got on a flight home as soon as he possibly could, her sister happened to be on a flight coming to Richmond anyways, her 5 brothers mainly local . My family arrived and we rallied, it showed me what family means, everything.
I remember getting to the emergency room and being put in a private waiting room, that was when it clicked with me that the situation at hand was not good. I got to see her and speak with her on the second day, with breathing tubes and assistance she was conscious. I recall telling her to blink if she could hear us, understand us, and know that it was okay. She could and she did, this was the last time we got to interact and I could relive it like it was yesterday.
I remember getting to the emergency room and being put in a private waiting room, that was when it clicked with me that the situation at hand was not good. I got to see her and speak with her on the second day, with breathing tubes and assistance she was conscious. I recall telling her to blink if she could hear us, understand us, and know that it was okay. She could and she did, this was the last time we got to interact and I could relive it like it was yesterday.
She spent 5 more days in the hospital, going from a local hospital to VCU's Critical Care Unit. As time went on we hoped that improvement would surface but her condition worsened, the toxins from the amount of acetaminophen she took started to build up in her system and overtook her organs. We decided as a family that not proceeding with any surgeries and taking her off of life support was the best decision and what she would have wanted.
We set a time for everyone to say their goodbyes. I'll never forget going to the hospital and getting off the elevator to be overwhelmed with my amazing friends, my family, all the way to nuns and teachers from my school. Everyone said their goodbyes and it was one of the most overwhelming/moving/and emotional days I will ever experience in my life. My friends were beyond amazing, taking me to the hospital at the drop of a hat anytime I wanted. My family went above and beyond, the support system was truly unreal. But let me tell you, you need that.You need it the days after and you need it the months after. That isn't suicide or addiction that is grief in general.
We held her funeral a few days later and the turnout was amazing, truly humbling. I honestly think it was a good lesson for a lot of the people that attended (the majority of my all girls teenage high school). Drugs are sadly readily available on the streets especially prescription pills, all it takes is one time. I think it raised awareness that things like this happen to people you know, those that you think have it together, and that you can make a difference.
Writing this years later, nervous as can be about sharing I've learned a lot. A lot about myself, a lot about addictions, a lot about suicide, and a ton about the stigma that surrounds both. The stigma that stings those that have been left behind, and the outlook on those who struggle daily with addiction. Sadly suicide is the 10th leading cause of death in America, we lose over 42,000 Moms/Dads/Brothers/Sisters each and every year to this, that is 5,000+ more deaths than what occurred from traffic accidents. Whether they have a substance abuse problem or not, that number is way too high. If I can share our story and help ONE single individual realize that they are not alone I have done my part.
My story has changed my outlook and the way I look at those who are struggling . Instead of being judgemental I'm empathetic but I'm also hopeful. Mental illness, addiction, substance abuse, and suicide are all topics to be handled with care but they need to be handled. A lot of people forget that those people struggling are people too, just like you or I. If we don't bring these problems to the forefront and educate each other change will never happen. Be the change; talk about it, don't be afraid, you too can make an impact big or small. Reach out to those that you think need help, look for red flags, and don't be afraid to talk about it.
As September comes to a close it reminds me that we continue to miss my Mom every single day, I long to hear her voice and her contagious laugh. While she wasn't there when I graduated from high school or college, nor will she be there when I get married or have kids I know that she is along for the ride and for that I am forever thankful.Thankful to have known someone as amazing as her and thankful that I've know been handed an opportunity to help others.
xo
