This Monday, a long time friend lost her only child to suicide. This kid used to play with my oldest daughter years ago when they were children. My heart is heavy with grief. Not just for my friend, but also for myself. You see this past April the night before my adult child’s 19th birthday, she decided to kill herself. After taking a hand full of my blood pressure med, she changed her mind and called the police. She was saved for now. She spent time in the hospital both medical and psychiatric.
I didn’t believe that she would be alive today. I’ve been afraid and concerned for her mental and emotional health. I also have two younger children, and I don’t know how they’re feeling about this. I have used what energy I have to support Chadama (my oldest) in making sure she seeks what she needs to not attempt suicide again.
This morning on my way to work, I was thinking about my friend, as I’ve been praying for her every day and night. And I’m reminded of all the concerns I’ve had about raising my girls. I’m heavy with questions like:
1. What did I do wrong?
2. When and where did I go wrong?
3. What did I miss?
4. My child must hate me.
5. I’ve fucked up.
My plan is to be available to my friend and my children. This is a tragedy that I’m not sure could have been prevented. Like with my child, maybe there was nothing done wrong by the parent (my friend and I are both single parents).
Still I can’t help what wonder what if…