Surviving suicide: a mother’s story
I am a mother whose 21-year-old son died by suicide on June 11, 2014. And for the first time in two years, I am ready to talk about what it means to loose someone for whom I loved deeply. Moreover, for the first time since Eli’s death, I am able to look through photographs of him, of us together, of our family, remembering all that was once good in our lives. And yet, having admitted (and possibly committed to) my story, I only ask that you listen. For those mothers out there experiencing this god awful loss, I presume to have no more insight than you do. After all, we’ve read the statistics, we’ve read the research about suicide, we’ve combed social media looking to identify with another who happens to share in this tragedy. We have become strangers to one another united in the darkest of all tragedies. As time passes, this loss has become the only thread to which I struggle daily to understand. It is always on my mind; my son died by suicide.