Suicidal Thoughts Still Linger

Suicidal Thoughts Still Linger

As I brushed my teeth last night tears ran down my face, all my thoughts are of Jeff…he would be happy for me.  Happy that I am trying to push forward…trying…but quite honestly, thoughts of Jeff are never far away.  He always seems to be here with me…here in my heart, in my thoughts, in my memories, in my sorrow.  I am not sure if I will ever quite get over him being gone.  Some days…well most days are better than others…but days like today…are not so good.  Perhaps it is because we would have been on the phone with me telling him all about a recent trip I took to Nevada.  He would have wanted to know all about it.  I already know the questions he would have asked…”What slots did you play, did you play the dollar slots, you know you have a better chance of at least breaking even with the dollar slots, did you play the tables, did you have fun, did you guys stop at any cemeteries, what goodies did you make for the road?”…are a few of the questions/things he would have said to me.  This is hard because I know for sure we would have been on the phone nearly all days.  My thoughts as I brush my teeth…I am answering all of Jeff’s questions…the questions I know he would be asking me if he were here.  And my tears…because I know I will for the rest of my life be asking and answering all of Jeff’s questions by myself.  I will forever be talking to myself as though I was having an actual conversation with my son.   It is what I do…I talk for Jeff…I answer for Jeff.  As I brush my teeth I am crying aloud because I caught myself talking to myself again.  Yet again, I remember and have to remind myself…I will never again talk to my son.  I cannot even begin to tell you how difficult not talking to Jeff has been for me.  I know he is gone, has been gone for 18 months…how many more nights will I cry.  How many more days will tears fall upon my keyboard as I work.  How long will I grieve my son’s passing?  

Jeff 3 days old

Even though I grieve…I often find myself thinking back and smiling at memories, moments I shared with Jeff, with Steve.  Memories from the time Jeff was born to the last day I put him in the ground.  It is amazing how many conversations a parent can conjure up…you know, among the total collections of family memories they, we, locked in the back of our heads over the many years of raising our families.  These are the remembrances I fall back on now.  From the time I was in labor to the last days of Jeff’s life.  I have so many pictures to help me conjure up more memories…I haven’t however, been able to dig out any of these pictures to look at, not yet anyway.  The other day I did find myself go directly to Jeff’s baby book so that I could find a specific picture.  I knew exactly where this picture was because it was the very first picture taken of Jeff.  He was 3 days old.  Sure enough the picture was exactly where I knew it would be…I did not allow myself to look beyond the one picture I sought.  This is also the reason I deliberately do not go into my family room…because it is full of wall to wall photos of all our lives together.

When Jeff was born he was born ill, of course he was.  There was no other way God would have had it.  He had swallowed amniotic fluid while in my womb, which caused distress for him in the last day of my pregnancy, and which also caused breathing problems for him immediately at birth.  So…long story short…he spent the first couple days of his life in the NICU.  On the third day, the nurse brought Jeff to me and Steve took pictures of us together.   How could I know that infant boy I held that day, would one day end up being my best friend, and the very essence of my life?    How could I have known back then that this child I held would one day be so connected to Steve and I both.  How could I have known this same child I held would one day step in and take the role of the eldest child in this family.  Even though Jeff was my only biological child, Steve and I raised three children together.  Two of his kids (Tina and Steve Jr) from his second marriage, and our Jeff.  Steve also had eight grown children from his first marriage.  Jeff was Steve’s youngest child, and my only biological child…yet when Steve died it was Jeff who took the role of the eldest child.   

When Steve was diagnosed with cancer he had time before he died, to plan his own funeral.  He talk to Jeff about the things he wanted done for his funeral, and left Jeff with responsibilities to fulfill his last wishes for his funeral.  Steve knew, even though Jeff never spoke more than two words aloud at a time, he could trust Jeff to give a nice speech at his funeral.  As hard as it was for Jeff when Steve did succumb to his disease…Jeff did as his father wished.  There was nothing Jeff wouldn’t have done for the man he adored.  There was nothing Jeff would not have done for his mother as well.  That was the kind of person Jeff was. 

  

After Steve died, as hard as it was for me, I knew how very difficult it was for Jeff.  He and Steve were very close.  Jeff adored his father.  After Jeff died Natascha told me, “You know Olgie, Jeff never got over Steve’s death.  After Steve died Jeff was never the same again.  It was almost like he didn’t want to live anymore.”  When she said that I knew…all the times we talked on the phone…I often asked him how he was doing.  “Oh it doesn’t matter Mom, he would say, “What difference does it make?”  I knew in my heart he was sincerely missing his father.  Just as often as Jeff and I talked, he also talked to his father the same way.  Actually more…especially after Steve’s prognosis.  Jeff called his father several times a day, every day.  As Steve’s health grew more severe, Jeff was on the phone more often still.  Steve was dying, and I believe Jeff was dying with him.

And here we are seven years later, seven years from Steve's death…the same scenario, different players.  This time it was Jeff who died…and it is I who has died with him.  Over these past 18 months my emotions have at times been so extreme I have been made physically ill, and wrenching with much emotional pain.  Although I am in a better emotional state…most of the time…I still have days where I think about offing myself.  I had one of those days recently.  It was the closest I have ever come to completing those suicidal thoughts. 

This past weekend I was home working on the Memorial Garden when all at once my thoughts, my emotions, all that I am again realized I would never again talk to Jeff.  I bawled uncontrollably almost as though Jeff had just passed away.  I cried aloud and so hard I was surprised my neighbors did not hear me.  Or perhaps they did and just wanted to give me time to cry it out.  I must have cried for two, three hours before the cries subsided.  But it was during this time that I dialed my friends, left messages…tried so very hard to find someone to talk to.  I even called my therapist…knowing I needed to find anyone to talk to.  I needed someone to help me get through the moment.  The thoughts…the suicidal thoughts…I needed to get them out of my mind, out of my thoughts, out of my head!  I called 10 people that day…to no avail, but the physical action of dialing over and over…finally allowed those thoughts to subside.  No one answered their phones that day and still I made it through the day alive.  I honestly do not know how I made it, but I did.

I am scared of the thoughts I had that day.  Here I was working my son’s Memorial Garden and my emotions just took over.  I know I will have other days like that day, but I am hoping they will be few and far in-between.  I have shed many tears while building this Garden…in a sense this is good for me to do.  This Garden has also stirred up many memories about Jeff and his father.  Good Memories.  Memories which I will one day share with Jeff’s children for many years to come.     

Thoughts of suicide have not entered my mind in many many months, and when they have I have easily been able to push them aside, however, if I can still have those very strong thoughts of offing myself and cannot control them then perhaps I still need help.  The other day scared me…had I not called anyone that day…I really believe I would have succeeded in taking my life.  I have call my therapist and have made an appointment for this very week.  I will survive this nightmare…this was just another curb, another bump, on this dark, winding path I am on.  I will survive.