It has been a month since I had to help you cross the rainbow bridge. Letting you go was one of the hardest decisions I had to do in my life. You were giving me your sassy smile the night before you were put to sleep. I know mentally you were hanging in there, but your body couldn’t withstand the damage from cancer anymore. The next morning when you refused to eat—I knew it was over.
My anxiety has been on overdrive. I am always terrified for my husband. I worry about the people I care about, and deal with my own fears. There have been nights where I have not slept due to nightmares or insomnia. In all that darkness, I have found tiny lights.
It can be scary to talk about suicide. As someone who battles both moderate depression and general anxiety disorder, the topic can be overwhelming to discuss with loved ones. I never want to scare anyone with my dark thoughts or have them watch my every move like a surveillance camera. Sometimes just being heard is more than enough.
Since the Columbine massacre there have been 37 shootings. More than 300 people have been murdered. In 18 of these shootings the killer commits suicide. Sadly, the New Yorker also points out “mental illness is easy to blame, easy to pinpoint, and easy to legislate against in regard to gun ownership.”
What I love about keeping a journal is that it is free writing. No rules, no judgments. Just you, a writing utensil, and a notebook.