My Story
For the record I am a 36 year old female and mother of one.
My parents met in the 8Th grade, were married while seniors in high school, had my sister in 1970 and I followed in 1972. Our life was a good one with the usual trials and struggles and than some. My father was a 2 time cancer survivor, my mother raised a handicapped nephew (which we fostered) But if you asked she would claim he was he son and she birthed him. (She was so proud of us & loved us all the same). Our parents always guided us and tried to teach us to be independent, strong, caring, helpful and respectful. They spent their lives mentoring neighborhood kids and always did their best to help anyone in need.
So who would know that one day sickness would come and do the unthinkable. My mother had survived severe physical, mental and sexual abuse as a child through her teen years. One would think she could overcome anything, she was so strong. In the early 90's our brother died, this lead her to a deep depression and endless amounts of medications to help remedy her feelings. So you start with an antidepressant, than anti anxiety pill, Valium to make you restful, sleeping pill for sleep and in the morning a pick-me up pill. Over time she became plagued with chronic body pain and depression . Eventually after several years of being bedridden, going for test after test they diagnosed her with Fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue, osteoarthritis and PTS. My father cared for her for years, did the grocery shopping, made them food, cleaned the house did the laundry and yard work, he called himself the "House Bitch" to try & make light of the situation and give her a laugh.
After time she had a few seizures.... this pushed my dad over the edge. I believe he had a nervous breakdown. He began to have delusions and began taking more and more medication. (I guess I should say he also suffered from depression & chronic pain from a prior cancer surgery on his neck). Prior to all this sickness and pain my parents were the envy of people who knew them. They would go on dates, hold hands, weekend rendezvous and truly enjoyed be together, were faithful and knew God would always guide them through life. Never believed in suicide (thought it was a cop-out and weak). Through the sickness they prayed & prayed and believed that God would never give you more than you can bare. In January 2006 I moved in with my new born daughter and began to care for both of them. It was beyond stressful, for a new 1st time mother, trying maintain a house, 2 sick parents a care for a newborn. Than came a day out of the blue in May 2006... My mother took an intentional overdose and was dead. Leaving me behind with no explanation, no last chance goodbye, I love you or I am sorry.
I struggled for the next 11 months with my father to keep him alive. He didn't want to live like he was and without my mother. He did see a therapist & try numerous medications all to no avail. His death was no surprise.... for 11 months he tried to talk openly about his plans of suicide thinking he was preparing me for the big event. It was pure torture. Every time he left the house I had to wonder is today the day? Prior to his mental breakdown he was the man who could solve anything, do anything and handle anything. He had a since of guilt that he could not fix my mother and her condition. So each day he spent preparing me he was also preparing his affairs to make things go as smoothly for me as possible. Sounds crazy right! This was my life...... Than in April 2007 I arrived home to a note taped on the phone by the front door. "I'm sorry, I hope it worked this time, I Love you" (he had tried numerous time to shoot himself but said it wasn't as easy as you may think). He had succeeded with an intentional overdose.
So you may be wondering why share this tragic story, whats the point?
If I could spare even 1 person from ever carrying this pain, than I have accomplished what I have hope to! (This is my point and I am saddened to say from first hand experience)
If you have reached the end of your rope & feel you cant go on, or that no-one will miss you, or that you have nothing to offer, or that they'll understand or they will move on or that they will forget or that times heals all wounds, that your a burden, your life has no meaning or you haven't made an impact on another life... Whatever you believe... Think again... I can tell you this isn't the case.
People will NOT forget you, weather or not you know this, You have made in impact or touched a life or made a difference and people do care & somebody somewhere does love you and will miss you and they will notice your gone. Suicide is not an end all! It leaves the rest of us to wonder Everyday for the rest of our days what could we have done or said or why didn't we notice... All you are leaving is pain for the ones who love you most. People NEVER forget a friend or love one who has succeeded in suicide. We carry it everyday not in the back of our minds but in the center of our broken hearts.
Thanks for taking the time!
Candace Perras