I collect my beads. 1st Orange for my brother. Next blue, for supporting, teal for any other friend or family member, and green for my own struggles. I put the orange, blue and teal around my neck and then I placed the green into my pocket.
I am here alone in my struggle and I don’t want to advertise that. I don’t want to be noticed for it AND I don’t want to not be noticed for it. In my pocket is fine.
I walk away from the beads, see two awkward adolescents also wearing orange, ask if they also lost a sibling. The girl answers yes, their brother. I say "it sucks" and ask if I can give her a hug. Her brother, looks younger, shies away behind her. I ask him if I can give him a hug also. “Yes” awkward side hug, but I don't care, he said yes so he probably needed it too.
I head toward the center of this massive event and I see their posters with the notes people posted.This is the first and only one I see. And I need to turn away because now I am crying. And alone. so I want a little quite place of my very own where I can disappear into a tree and be present from the sidelines.
What a beautiful anomaly this tree is. I decide to join it. This is where I start this very bog entry. Sitting on the root arch of that tree. As my emotions settle again and the eye flooding subsides I realize, with this very unique tree, perched on the arch, I am hardly invisible. So I laugh inside and hop down. I listen to a well known radio DJ tell the story of loosing his own brother.
I see IHC's booth and I feel my anger but also know the people there are not who I am angry with. However, I am here to stand as a witness, if only to my self, that even when you think you are alone you are not and to show that I can keep fighting and I am worth standing up for. So I go to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention organization's booth (they are the facilitators of this event) and I collect their information. I write "Neuroscience Institute, across the top along with the name of the facility/office director whom I had told "I am just trying to understand what is going on with my head" and "I am not sure what it looks like but I know I need to stand up for myself" and then later yelled at me for wanting to be kept in-house, thinking they should talk to me and address the issues that happened there I was trying to address instead of sending me away, alone, to try and find an entirely new team when I was such a mess and not even sure what help I needed and for what since I was allowed no clarifying conversation.
I go to IHC's booth and ask who works for them. I tell her they need some training. I show her the green beads from my pocket and say "They are feeding this" and then I walk away shaking.
But I think, and return. Talk a little more to the lady but explain very little, just that they played games with me and feed the suicidal, instead of treating me fairly. I write down Concussion doctor's name, Neuropsychologist's name, and Patient Advocate's name. I ask that they all get trained or at very least they get this reading material.
I talk to a few people. Get some hugs and love from one lady and I am glad I am here.
I am so impressed at the amount of people present. I notice beautiful people being honored on t-shirts and I am so happy to see that they are honored and loved still in spite of how they passed. I see my brother in one particularly fun looking brother of a beautiful lady who is there alone with her 3 young children. I admire her. I appreciate the picture of her brother. I let her know.
Then I am then drawn to these shirts. I loved the design and saying. As I got close I found some of my own coincidental humor in them also. If you zoom in to read and you have been following my blog I think you may also find it ever so coincidentally comical. I have to ask, "who is Jon?" I am then introduced to the mom of Jon. She is a beautiful and significant person. She designed the shirts. She tells me some about Jon. He was 18. I tell her a bit about my brother and the military's flawed policies. He was 28 or 29, it's been 10 years and I can't remember exact age and don't really care to fixate on that detail, he was too young and that is what matters most. As this beautiful mom tells me about her son I am sad for them and proud of them. They were trying. Her son was sensitive and intelligent. He felt things deeply and that made life a challenge at times. I can relate to what she is telling me. I tell her things that surprise her a bit. She asks "how do you know so much about all of this?" I have been living it for a very long time. "I'll write you a book," I say and she likes this idea.
I have been fighting similar battles as her son for a very long time. I explain my belief that suicidal tendencies are a symptom. They are neither the problem nor solution, they are a symptom and we need to listen to them as that. They were doing that, and from what she has told me, I am so impressed at how they were. But she had never heard it put the way I just did and wishes it would be. She thinks it is a helpful and more productive way to approach this. She thinks it could have helped her son.... Because her son got caught in that trap of not understanding that it was a symptom and after being on medication for short period, when they were just starting to see the improvements, is when he passed. He did not realize or understand what he was fighting. He swung too fast before his thinking was able to correct. He likely did not have the tools or even know he needed them. One thing his mom told me was that he had said things about not wanting to be a burden. My own voice echoed in my head at this. I thought of my brother, others who I know that have gone this way, and more I know that I still fear we will lose to mental illness. I believe that many of the most likely to succeed in their attempt are also very likely to be in a mindset of not wanting to be a burden or tired of feeling like a burden. In their mind they are taking care of the problem themselves and doing their part to relieve the burden on others.
I am going off in a direction I did not intend to, but as I have so many times before and to stay true to my own healing and processing process I will let it be. Though I know it is getting lengthy, today was significant so I suppose a significant post is appropriate.
I'm going to jump now to another significant part of this event. At one point I was walking and fingering the green beads in my pocket when I noticed that the necklace had come apart. It was broken. I could not even wear it now if I wanted to. This made me so happy. I even pulled it out and showed the beautiful mom. I loved that the suicidal struggles of my own are broken. This is a good thing to have broken. I'm taking this as a sign and an omen and I'm going to run with it. I will keep holding on to that, -the breaking of my brokenness- because I have beat this before. And now that these beads are broken I can officially say that I have beat it once again (at least the suicidal part of it) and I will do it again and again if I have to.
This is what I thought as I walked back to my truck and noticed this beautiful green tree with it's amazing and peculiar long green beans and then it was followed by the tree covered in so many tiny loving hearts.
My heart has been broken so many times for so many reasons but still there are amazing people worth loving for any amount of time and this world holds so very many special and magical treasures all around. I love that. And I love living which is why I will keep fighting not just to survive but also to live and be a alive. I will keep working to thrive.
This is also a fun one You'll Never Walk Alone
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