Never Really A Good Time
For two years, I have been deciding whether or not I wanted to write this post. I would start, and then I would decide it was too early. That I wasn't ready. That the participants weren't ready. That the world wasn't ready. So, I didn't say anything. And then enough time passed that I figured there was no point in telling the story. So, I didn't. Last fall, I decided that I wanted to get a tattoo because I never wanted to forget the story, but getting a tattoo would be answering questions, and how would people feel if they never knew the story the first time. Some people know. I had to tell some people because I couldn't make it through the day alone. I had to tell some students because I had to make an emergency change in plans. But, it wasn't- until recently- something I just shared.
Finally, I decided the only reason I haven't blogged is because of fear. I am afraid people won't understand. I'm afraid I'll be judged. I'm afraid my family will be judged. I am afraid that our image will be diminished.
But, this year, I let go of living in fear. Be brave. That's 2019. And the fact is that I believe some people need to read to our story.
They need to know that I won't judge them. They need to know that I've walked this path, too. They need to know that weakness is totally ok because our own strength is an illusion. They need to know that there is no reason to hide. They need to know they are not alone- they aren't the only one.
So here we go... (and I'm going to protect the minors in the story because it's the right thing to do)
Over two years ago, I was picking up one of my children, C, from an event and taking C to another event. In the car, C started getting very upset about not wanting to go to the next place. I tried to figure out what was going on. New school year stress was my first guess, but it seemed like more than that. Finally, C started saying, "I don't want you mad. I don't want you to be mad." I assured C I wasn't going to be mad. And that's when it fell out...
C: "I tried to kill myself. [Different] C unknowingly walked in and stopped me."
Me: total shock
C: "SAY SOMETHING!"
Me: "I love you."
Then I went on to wax eloquent about feeling badly and not letting darkness win and other stupid pointless drivel because I didn't have a clue what to say.
We drove home. We had to planned previously to pick a different C up from an event, and Tony was meeting us there for a quick meal out. I called him and said something super eloquent like "Hey! Everything is wrong. Don't worry. Explain more later." Click. Hung up phone.
Got to the event, and Tony was furious that I left him hanging and what the world was going on. In the presence of the kids and about 30 spectators, I put on a plastic smile that would have made Barbie proud and told him we'd talk later. With a quick kiss on the cheek, I whispered, "Shut the hell up before you say something freaking stupid right now!" Plastic smile still intact.
We got home, and I talked to Tony. Then, he and I talked to C. Then, I laid in bed staring at nothing because I realized that nothing was ever going to be the same ever again.
For the next few weeks, we talked to C, C, C, & C about what had happened, what that meant, what it changed (nothing for them), that Jesus is still good, etc. And, because we're idiots- and because the soul wants to believe that everything is the same even when the brain knows it isn't- we thought everything was all better.
Until that day when we knew it wasn't.
It was December. We were having internet/phone/cable issues. C [the one who was in a dark place] wasn't feeling physically well and wanted to stay home. I immediately had a sick feeling. Tony had the same sick feeling, but we decided that it was ok. The maid would be there in an hour, and I only had to work until 10:30, so no big deal. I called Tony on my drive to work. The call home didn't go through. I tried his cell. "Hun, I really don't like that C is home right now." Tony's reply, "Me, either. But Jesus has this." Fair enough. I was meeting students for a pre-exam coffee, when I looked down to see Tony calling my phone.
Me: Hello
Tony: C just sent me an email. Oh my God, Lisa. I forwarded it to you.
Me: (checking email) Tony, is this a suicide note?
Tony: (screaming) GO. NOW. GO.
Me: I don't have a car. I rode with someone else.
Tony. Get. An. Uber. NOW!
I got an uber. And totally freaked out on the driver. It took like 10 hours- or 5 minutes- to get home. I ran inside the apartment building. Telling myself the whole way to be calm. Not to alarm C. That worked until I got to the front door which I all but broke down. I started screaming "C" as soon as I got out of the elevator. Calm would not have been the word to use to describe me.
C looked terrified. C thought something, like a shooting, had happened at the school. C was freaking out that something was wrong because I was freaking out because I thought something was wrong. I explained why I was there. C just looked sad. C told me C's stomach really did hurt. C said the reason C decided to send the article was because maybe we would understand where C was mentally. I did what all good moms do at that point. I gave C a huge hug and 2 Dramamines because I knew C would be asleep and safe and it would buy me a few hours to figure out which way was up.
The school nurse came and picked me up. She took me back to the school to get my car. She let me weep and hyperventilate and swear. We called a counselor immediately. And, over the past two years, he has saved my child's life. Again and again.
Today, we breathe a little deeper than we have in 24 months, though I will never completely exhale again.
Today, I am confident that God is real and good. And, that Satan is real and evil.
Today, I am confident that C is going to be ok. And I will call C twice a day every day for the rest of my life just to make sure. I will ride C's emotions with every fabric in my being because I don't want to miss the beginnings of a dark slide.
Today, life is good and sweet, but I am changed. I have walked darkness that I don't ever want to see again, but in it, I have seen the brightest light I could ever have imagined.
Finally, I decided the only reason I haven't blogged is because of fear. I am afraid people won't understand. I'm afraid I'll be judged. I'm afraid my family will be judged. I am afraid that our image will be diminished.
But, this year, I let go of living in fear. Be brave. That's 2019. And the fact is that I believe some people need to read to our story.
They need to know that I won't judge them. They need to know that I've walked this path, too. They need to know that weakness is totally ok because our own strength is an illusion. They need to know that there is no reason to hide. They need to know they are not alone- they aren't the only one.
So here we go... (and I'm going to protect the minors in the story because it's the right thing to do)
Over two years ago, I was picking up one of my children, C, from an event and taking C to another event. In the car, C started getting very upset about not wanting to go to the next place. I tried to figure out what was going on. New school year stress was my first guess, but it seemed like more than that. Finally, C started saying, "I don't want you mad. I don't want you to be mad." I assured C I wasn't going to be mad. And that's when it fell out...
C: "I tried to kill myself. [Different] C unknowingly walked in and stopped me."
Me: total shock
C: "SAY SOMETHING!"
Me: "I love you."
Then I went on to wax eloquent about feeling badly and not letting darkness win and other stupid pointless drivel because I didn't have a clue what to say.
We drove home. We had to planned previously to pick a different C up from an event, and Tony was meeting us there for a quick meal out. I called him and said something super eloquent like "Hey! Everything is wrong. Don't worry. Explain more later." Click. Hung up phone.
Got to the event, and Tony was furious that I left him hanging and what the world was going on. In the presence of the kids and about 30 spectators, I put on a plastic smile that would have made Barbie proud and told him we'd talk later. With a quick kiss on the cheek, I whispered, "Shut the hell up before you say something freaking stupid right now!" Plastic smile still intact.
We got home, and I talked to Tony. Then, he and I talked to C. Then, I laid in bed staring at nothing because I realized that nothing was ever going to be the same ever again.
For the next few weeks, we talked to C, C, C, & C about what had happened, what that meant, what it changed (nothing for them), that Jesus is still good, etc. And, because we're idiots- and because the soul wants to believe that everything is the same even when the brain knows it isn't- we thought everything was all better.
Until that day when we knew it wasn't.
It was December. We were having internet/phone/cable issues. C [the one who was in a dark place] wasn't feeling physically well and wanted to stay home. I immediately had a sick feeling. Tony had the same sick feeling, but we decided that it was ok. The maid would be there in an hour, and I only had to work until 10:30, so no big deal. I called Tony on my drive to work. The call home didn't go through. I tried his cell. "Hun, I really don't like that C is home right now." Tony's reply, "Me, either. But Jesus has this." Fair enough. I was meeting students for a pre-exam coffee, when I looked down to see Tony calling my phone.
Me: Hello
Tony: C just sent me an email. Oh my God, Lisa. I forwarded it to you.
Me: (checking email) Tony, is this a suicide note?
Tony: (screaming) GO. NOW. GO.
Me: I don't have a car. I rode with someone else.
Tony. Get. An. Uber. NOW!
I got an uber. And totally freaked out on the driver. It took like 10 hours- or 5 minutes- to get home. I ran inside the apartment building. Telling myself the whole way to be calm. Not to alarm C. That worked until I got to the front door which I all but broke down. I started screaming "C" as soon as I got out of the elevator. Calm would not have been the word to use to describe me.
C looked terrified. C thought something, like a shooting, had happened at the school. C was freaking out that something was wrong because I was freaking out because I thought something was wrong. I explained why I was there. C just looked sad. C told me C's stomach really did hurt. C said the reason C decided to send the article was because maybe we would understand where C was mentally. I did what all good moms do at that point. I gave C a huge hug and 2 Dramamines because I knew C would be asleep and safe and it would buy me a few hours to figure out which way was up.
The school nurse came and picked me up. She took me back to the school to get my car. She let me weep and hyperventilate and swear. We called a counselor immediately. And, over the past two years, he has saved my child's life. Again and again.
Today, we breathe a little deeper than we have in 24 months, though I will never completely exhale again.
Today, I am confident that God is real and good. And, that Satan is real and evil.
Today, I am confident that C is going to be ok. And I will call C twice a day every day for the rest of my life just to make sure. I will ride C's emotions with every fabric in my being because I don't want to miss the beginnings of a dark slide.
Today, life is good and sweet, but I am changed. I have walked darkness that I don't ever want to see again, but in it, I have seen the brightest light I could ever have imagined.
For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,”
made his light shine in our hearts
to give us the light of the knowledge of God’s glory
displayed in the face of Christ.
To being brave enough to bring light to the darkness and confidence to know Jesus' light is eternal,
L
L
Comments
I understand where you are coming from and the back and forth feeling of whether to share or not share. While not the same I feel there is a lot of similarities to what I also will share here with you. My daughter has ran away, twice now. The second time was much more horrible then the first. Thankfully we have her back but there is those feelings of isolation, because very few will understand what you have truly gone through and you don't know how to find those people anyways. You also know that nothing will be the same and finding the path forward is difficult and scary.
You are not alone.
Blessings,
Lisa