jeff was born on 3-1-59.
i only saw a few baby photos, but those big brown eyes, so direct, so intense even then.
i cannot help but to think of that innocence, that beginning, that moment when he arrived out here in the world. i cannot help but think of all of the paths his life could have taken. all of that talent. all of that intellect. all of that intensity. all of that idealism. all that passion.
i never could know who he had been, and never could know, truly, his path, his struggles, his brokenness.
once he died, i questioned whether i ever even knew him at all. it was a struggle to come to grips with the difference between this immense capability and all of the good i saw and the deep pain that he felt, just being in the world.
i realize now that i knew parts of him. some great parts. some devastating. some devastated. some so great: we laughed until we cried over an article in scientific american. some so romantic. some so focused. some so wonderful. and so much broken.
jeff would have turned 53 today.
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For suicide survivors
If you feel suicidal
Get help. Please. Just call 911, or a friend, or a suicide hot line-- those folks are excellent and amazing. Or go to the emergency room. Tell them you need help. Be clear.
The choice you are thinking of making, once made and put into action, is not open to negotiation. You cannot change your mind and come back. Give yourself time. Ask for help.
Think instead about options you would suggest for a friend. And treat yourself that way. Treat yourself as if you matter. Because you do. You do. You do.
The choice you are thinking of making, once made and put into action, is not open to negotiation. You cannot change your mind and come back. Give yourself time. Ask for help.
Think instead about options you would suggest for a friend. And treat yourself that way. Treat yourself as if you matter. Because you do. You do. You do.
Why this blog
I lost someone dear to me to suicide in 2003.
For a few years I was married to a wonderful, brilliant, tormented man. I lost him first to the ravages of untreated depression- the kind that devours slowly but thoroughly, and then finally I lost him to suicide.
The grief associated with suicide is complex, and resources are hard to find. These are the letters I would write to all of us if I could.
And to anyone out there new to this or old to this, you know. There is nothing simple about this. My story is not necessarily anyone else's. My reactions, my emotions, my thoughts, are all my own. But sometimes it makes sense to put things out there, in hopes that it will help someone else feel less alone, less desperate, less desolate. Even if only by showing that even though something awful has happened and can never un-happen, years can pass, and that life-- a good life-- can happen too.
For a few years I was married to a wonderful, brilliant, tormented man. I lost him first to the ravages of untreated depression- the kind that devours slowly but thoroughly, and then finally I lost him to suicide.
The grief associated with suicide is complex, and resources are hard to find. These are the letters I would write to all of us if I could.
And to anyone out there new to this or old to this, you know. There is nothing simple about this. My story is not necessarily anyone else's. My reactions, my emotions, my thoughts, are all my own. But sometimes it makes sense to put things out there, in hopes that it will help someone else feel less alone, less desperate, less desolate. Even if only by showing that even though something awful has happened and can never un-happen, years can pass, and that life-- a good life-- can happen too.
About Me
- Kate
- 50, still full of wonder and curiosity. Also blogging about life and creativity at www.kate-johnson.com
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