You are not the same person since I killed myself.
I see you are hurting. Or would say crushed? Destroyed? Shattered like a thousand pieces of splintered glass?
I see how devastated you are. I’ve left you with so many unanswered questions, and I know you feel like you are losing your mind trying to sort out everything. I’m sorry.
We dreamed about doing so many things together. Now, I’ve crushed the possibility of us ever doing them.
Sorrow, anguish, and rage pulse inside your bones, a kind of cancer gnawing away at the vibrancy of your life. Everything seems awash in a sea of gray and black, and you wonder if you’ll ever live in color again. I’m sorry.
When I decided to take my own life, I destroyed so many others. I couldn’t keep my promise, even after I felt the ache of our sister’s suicide.
So many people feel guilty, as if they could have done something to stop me. I see now how my actions have damaged so many. The collective voice of all those left in the wake of my death rises. They all ask the same, big question, “Why?”
You hunt for answers—you speculate. It’s as though you’re trying to unravel a mystery that you instinctively know you can never solve.
I wish I could take away your sadness. I wish I could erase your confusion. But even more than this, I wish I could restore your relationship with God. I never meant to come between you. But God is already accomplishing what I cannot do.
Shattered pieces of you lay scattered, waiting to be made whole again. You may not see it yet, but God is stitching you back together. He is mending your friendship with Him, as only He can do.
If I could talk to you again, I would want you to know this.
I love you deeply.
I see the wreckage my suicide has left. I once thought things would be better if I weren’t around. I thought taking my life would smooth out the tangled ends I seemed to leave everywhere I went. Now I know I was wrong. I leave behind an enormous sorrow, with collateral damage rippling out, circle inside of circle, stretching far out into your life and into the lives of others I loved.
On the other side of life, I see things differently. I wish I could have done something different with my pain. But even amid the mistakes and heartbreak so much good has come out of my bad decisions.
I know it’s hard to think there could be anything beautiful or positive to come out of something so tragic.
There is. Look for it, watch for it—expect to see God’s glory. Train your eyes to find goodness, cling to hope, search for beauty in the darkness.
In the hollows of your sorrow, you will find restoration. Maybe you’re not ready to reflect on this possibility, but hear me out.
While fire may ravage the wilderness, new life springs from the black and barren soil. Green grass and tender seedlings sprout up in the midst of desolation. Despite the emptiness, the sun shines again and there is new life. Look and see beauty rising from the ashes.
Meanwhile, know you are loved. The love of your wife and kids, your brothers and sisters, your friends and even strangers is staggering. It’s so magnificent that it’s difficult to take in.
I know you love deeply. Sometimes it hurts so bad to love this intensely, but don’t get distracted by your losses or hold back what you have to give. Love fully and without reservation. Devote your time and energy to the ones you love. You won’t regret it!
Yes, I am gone, but windows of opportunity have been thrown open. You can and should talk about my suicide. Say it all. Talk about your feelings, your fears, and your dreams. Expose everything to the light; seeds can only sprout in the sunshine. You never know who can help you when you refuse to remain silent. And you never know who you will help when you choose to talk openly and honestly about suicide. No matter what, you are not alone.
I regret not knowing or believing all of these things myself. Now I know I was loved, understood, and never alone. My greatest hope is that you can transform my mistakes into something good.
I loved you then and always.
Laura Longville LAC is a counselor who walks along side those who hurt and long for healing and peace. She has personally experienced the devastating heartache and overwhelming confusion from loved ones who died by suicide. Laura has found hope again.
If you need support right now, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 or text “START” to 741-741.
Post shared on Messages to Messes