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Suicide Grief Meditations

Suicide Grief Meditations

Category Archives: Easter

How Long?

31 Sunday May 2015

Posted by karenmoorephillips in Easter, how long?, time

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“Just when you think, ‘Maybe I’m going to make it,’ you’re riding down the road and you pass a field, and you see a flower and it reminds you. Or you hear a tune on the radio. Or you just look up in the night. You know, you think, ‘Maybe I’m not going to make it, man.’ Because you feel at that moment the way you felt the day you got the news.”

Joe Biden on the constant weight of grief.

Joe Biden talks about grief triggers. He talks about music, flowers, and the night reminding him of his loss. There are some triggers in this world you just cannot hide from. Not if you are going to live.

This is the seventeenth year since my dad’s suicide. When his death date, April 17th,  rolled around this year, I felt it more—I think—because the date landed on the same day of the week, Friday, as that day. Next year, I’m sure I’ll tell you another reason.

I’ve written how Easter bothers me, especially the Passion of Easter. Sunday School lessons on the betrayal and suffering of Christ weave around the guilt I have about my father. It just kills me to think about my father’s mindset that day. I really believe I’ve developed a phobia to the Easter season. The death of Christ isn’t something a Christian can avoid.

Pressing down my feelings and pretending everything is just fine doesn’t work. For me trying to stop a tide of grief is like trying to make kudzu stop growing. I can’t stop it unless I kill all my feelings and the earth around me. The only way I’ve found to get on the other side of the pain is to let go and just grieve. After the storm of feelings pass, I feel lighter. Perhaps that’s the way of the Holy Spirit, too. Being there with you as your soul heals; even providing the triggers so you can heal.

Suicide grief is not a straight path, but it does level off. My first year or two were overrun with turmoil, filled with visions of his death. That rawness subsides as time goes by. When I think of my father now, I— more than not—remember his sweet voice and his laughter that always sounded like water bubbling over pebbles. I think how he used to make up comical names for my sister and me. I think first of helping him work on something in his garage, not finding him there at the end.

Joe Biden also said. “There will come a day – I promise you, and your parents as well – when the thought of your son or daughter, or your husband or wife, brings a smile to your lips before it brings a tear to your eye,” Biden says. “It will happen.”

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Guilt Triggers

20 Monday Apr 2015

Posted by karenmoorephillips in Daddy, depression, Easter, explaining his death, guilt, powerlessness

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While they were still talking about this, Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.” They were startled and frightened, thinking they saw a ghost. (Luke 24:36-37)

This was part of our Sunday school lesson yesterday. Jesus has appeared alive after being crucified; now the disciples are holed up in a room talking about it. Our teacher yesterday described how all of the disciples must have felt at this time. They all had betrayed Jesus in one way or the other by not speaking up.

That was about as far as I could listen before my throat started getting thick and my bottom lip began quivering. These end parts of the Gospels hit too close to home for me. Yesterday, I gathered up my belongings and said with that voice I hate that’s all quivery and weak, “I apologize, this is just too hard.”

Last week, I left early, too, only I didn’t apologize because last week I tried to push everything down and pretend I was fine. That resulted in having a full-assed panic attack right there in the middle of the Sunday school class. I ran out with the church’s bible still in my hand. Afterward, I was embarrassed and thought myself a drama queen.

The above verses are a guilt trigger for me. I know exactly how they felt—they blamed themselves. I don’t think about failing Jesus when I study that passage. I think about how I failed my father who killed himself seventeen years ago. I still suffer from the guilt of not understanding how depressed he was, not insisting that he get help, not doing something. I think there is terror in that kind of guilt because it digs in like a diseased tick.

I am glad I went to church yesterday and heard this verse. Even though it hurt like all hell, I learned something. I’m triggered by feeling like a disciple, and not by the resurrection of Christ, which is what Easter is all about, that Jesus died and came back. Jesus was human and is God as well. It is complicated, and it is simple. Jesus isn’t my dad. My dad isn’t a God. Maybe I can work on untangling them in my mind now.

The death of someone I love cracked a hole in my heart and my soul. Stuff gets jumbled up. My dad killed himself just a week or two after Easter. I fear that holiday and the days afterward when disciples feel so guilty.

Yesterday, I also heard that Jesus said “peace be with you” to his miserable and frightened followers.

Therefore do not let anyone [I think includes myself] judge you by what you eat or drink, or with regard to a religious festival, a New Moon celebration or a Sabbath day. (Colossians 2:16)

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