“Soldier’s Heart was what we called it.” My grandpa told me.

We were in his apartment researching our family’s history. My eyes followed his finger to a line in the family tree book. His uncle’s death, by suicide, was reported as an accidental drowning in order for his burial to be allowed in the community’s cemetery.

Isolated in life by the heartache of war, his uncle would have been shunned in death if it weren’t for the kind lies of family members.

The thought, in my ancestor’s time, was that a person who died from suicide had sinned against God. I think some people still believe this to be true, but the majority appears to have shifted to thinking that a medical illness causes suicide.

Mental illness is tricky to define. When you think about an illness, what comes to mind? Diabetes, the common cold, our current pandemic probably has a lot of us thinking about illness. The simplest point of view is that something goes wrong in the body and that wrongness is resolved by a medication or other interventions provided to the individual.

A systemic perspective means looking deeper into how the illness came to affect the individual.

Suicide has always been a cause of death. However, many of us do not understand the contributing factors that pile and mix together compounding down on our fellow human beings. When my father died from suicide, my sisters and I were told he had  “a chemical imbalance.” The three kids in my high school who died from suicide were labeled as troubled, mentally ill, drug users. My grandfather’s generation was aware that some people were coming home from war with unexpected, continuing terror.

Why were the chemicals imbalanced? What causes a person to become troubled or ill or to use drugs? What is it about war that leaves a lasting mark?

My father was brought up in a culture of black and white thinking, so was I, and maybe you were too. Black and white thinking sounds like: You are good or you’re bad. You are hardworking or you’re lazy. You are worth what you are able to produce, and those that don’t produce are worthless.

Years afterward, I was a waitress, near my home. A man tapped me on the shoulder to say, “Your Dad was the kindest person I ever knew.” My Dad was the neighbor that lent you a tool and never asked for it back. He took things VERY literally.  He was confused when the church told him that God was “infallible” but he also saw homeless people and the destruction of the environment. He was sad about the state of the world. People would tell him that he needed to take medication and he would feel better. And he did try that, but he didn’t believe that medication was the answer. He wanted things to be different, but concerned family and friends wanted him to be different.

It comes from a place of love, telling a person that you want them to get help/take medication. But the message can come through as, “You’re not right. We want you fixed.”

When kids, in my high school, died by suicide . Our school hosted a series of speakers, attempting to address the grief of the student body. Two of the kids were brothers. The speakers mostly begged us to consider the ones left behind, with an emphasis on not “choosing to die” and “to get help.” Again, this was well-meaning, but the message of blame was still at the core.

“Systemic perspective” is one way of saying that we are not isolated. We are in this world together. It’s also a way of seeing things as rich and complex, rather than black and white. It helps to study each part of the whole and to discern which of these parts we can help to change.   There are many factors that contribute to mental health: nutrition, exercise, friendships/social support, safety, and engaging in meaningful activities. If we study present day conditions, as well as historical information, we can see who has access to nutrition, safe places to exercise, and opportunities to find meaningful work. It isn’t everyone. Not even close.

More recently, a childhood friend called me to let me know that her brother died by suicide. He was 42. As I listened into my phone, I just stumbled backward, and sat down on the lid of the closed toilet. My hands gripped the sides, cold and wet.

Sometimes, I hear something and it feels like a part of me stays there. Like I’ll always be a little bit hunched over that toilet, focusing on the coldness, thinking, “Why him? Why now?” I’m not what most people would consider a “happy person.” I have my moments of joy for sure, but in general I’m sad about a lot of what I see and hear and read about that goes on in our world. As a younger person, I often worried if I was built to last or if I would die like my Dad.

Given the risk factors, what has protected me? Why am I alive right now and others are gone?

I’m not sure if I’ll ever know for sure, but I want to keep learning. I believe that all things are caused. I recently heard a song, in my car, that said, “It’s okay not to be okay.”

What if we could accept our loved ones and ourselves in all our awkward sorrow?

1. Coping with COVID-19 Stress/Mental Health
•  MHA-WI's Mental Health & COVID-19 Resources
2. Mindful Self-Compassion (Barbara Moser, CompassionMKE)
• Now Matters Now Resource
3. Safe Messaging (Leah Rolando, MHA of WI)
• Reporting on Suicide during the COVID-19 Pandemic
• Caring Letter Example from Milwaukee Behavioral Division (BHD)
• Chicago Tribune article on Pandemic Suicide Risk (see Jonathon Singer's comments re: messaging about protective factors)
4. Mutual Aid (Erica Steib, MHA of WI) - Wisconsin List of Current Mutual Aid Networks; How to Create a Mutual Aid Network; Safety Practices for Mutual Aid During COVID19; Article: How Govt Failure to Address Coronavirus is Sparking A Mutual Aid Revolution
5. Peer Support/Warm Lines  
• Community Resilience and Response Task Force at State Emergency Operations Center (Maggie Northrop, DHS)
• Resilient Wisconsin
• HOPELINE, Wisconsin's Crisis Text Line Keyword Partnership (Barb Bigalke, Center for Suicide Awareness)
6. County crisis services – Mental health and substance use (Michelle Larson, DHS)
7. Mental Health Toolkit for May (Debbie Rueber, Kenosha County Aging & Disability Resource Center)
8. Virtual Trainings (Leah Rolando, MHA of WI)
• Recognition and Response Trainings
• Suicide care trainings for Providers
9. Postvention/Suicide Loss Support Groups (Leah Rolando, MHA of WI) - AFSP Webinar Recording: Creating and Managing Virtual Suicide Bereavement Support Groups
10. Telehealth/Telepsychology (Leah Rolando, MHA of WI) - SPRC Webinar-Treating Suicidal Patients during COVID-19: Best Practices and Telehealth
11. Parenting Support Resources (Leah) - PEP Webinar Series: Parenting during the Coronavirus
12. School Support – Students and Educators (TBD)
13. Zero Suicide Implementation during COVID19
1. Early Detection Systems (Sarah Bassing-Sutton and Beth Clay, N.E.W. Mental Health Connection)
2. Means Safety in the Home (Jean Papalia, Safe Communities Madison-Dane County; Andrea Nauer-Waldschmidt, Milwaukee BHD)
14. Death Review Teams (TBD)

Read the complete briefing statement here>>

The following is an excerpt from Wake Me from the NIGHTMARE: Hope, Healing, and Empowerment After Suicide Loss, by R. Jade McAuliffe. 

Initially, it’s good practice to talk about the suicide death itself. Often.

Repeating the story out loud and saying the word suicide will help the experience become more real so you can begin to believe it. I know you might not want to believe it, but telling and retelling your story will help you come to terms with the tragic loss of your loved one. Although denial is a normal part of the grieving process, you can’t fully make peace with something you refuse to accept. This is a slow and steady process, so give yourself a break.

Do the best you can to keep the lines of communication open. Tell your story to your trusted supports as often as needed, and don’t hold any feelings back. Take care to honor whatever comes up without judgment, as this will help you avoid the pitfalls of guilt (which are also normal but can quickly send you into deep depression if you’re not paying close attention). Your thoughts and feelings, whatever they may be, need to be heard and acknowledged with compassion.

People might inadvertently try to interrupt you, offer platitudes, or even be surprised by your words or your honesty. Don’t let these reactions throw or shut you down. Sometimes people feel desperate to rescue or just aren’t sure what to say. This usually has more to do with their issues than yours. Give them the benefit of the doubt, thank them, and tell them you only need to be witnessed and heard. Nothing more. They will be relieved, and you won’t have to take it personally. Many will offer sympathy rather than empathy and this can be hard to swallow. Those who haven’t been through suicide loss often have a difficult time wrapping their heads around it. The words “I’m so sorry for your loss” sound a lot different than “What a shame,” but either one of these statements can make you feel as though you’re being brushed off or patted on the head. I found statements like that latter to be callous and thoughtless and would’ve gladly settled for silence instead, but I had to keep in mind they were doing the best they could with the resources they had.

You’ll probably be sensitive to the words of others now, but if your safe people are lined up and know how you need them to respond to you, they’ll be able to do so in more favorable ways. It’s your job to tell them what you need from them. Be as open as possible, and you’ll get much better results. Remember, silence serves no one: not you and certainly not anyone else.

Just Say It

Make sure you have the freedom to speak freely with at least one person. When I say freely, I mean you can say anything without fear of freaking another person out or turning them away. This does not mean you won’t be held accountable for your words, it simply means the other person promises to hold you in the highest regard no matter what you tell them. There might be times when you're feeling desperate to end your own pain. It’s of utmost importance to express those feelings. This is completely normal after suicide loss, and you need to be free enough to honor the desperate feelings too. However, you also need to have a plan in place in case you need additional support to get through a particularly rocky time. Again, this is normal, and if someone is genuinely worried about your mental or physical state, you would be wise to come up with a safety plan. Be sure to keep your support numbers accessible so you can find them easily if need be. Include both the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (800-273-8255) and the Crisis Text Line (text “hello” to 741741) in case you’d like an additional option.

Often, just speaking about and admitting to our desperate thoughts and intense feelings will release their emotional charge, but please be sure to choose your listeners carefully, and never unload on children. Sometimes we just need a break from regular responsibilities because of overwhelm and exhaustion. It’s okay to ask for help, and people are probably waiting for a chance to be of service to you. Churches are a great resource during times like these, especially if cooking, cleaning, or childcare is needed. If you need to create a safety plan immediately, please visit My Safety Plan located in Chapter 9.

Now is not the time to hold back the truth, no matter what it may be. Believe me when I tell you, someone will be able to handle it. I remember sitting in my pastor’s office, shortly after my sister died. I was angry, hurt, and felt completely powerless. She sensed my despair. I said, “I just feel like…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. I was afraid she’d call 911 and have me involuntarily committed. “Just say it,” she said, “It needs to come out.” I said the forbidden words, “I just want to go too! I want to be with her!” The world didn’t end, she didn’t call 911, and she didn’t have me committed. She was concerned and made me promise that I’d do whatever necessary to keep myself safe and follow up with my counselor, which I did.

Ironically (or not), just saying those desperate words released me from their spell. This stuck with me, and I’ve made sure to accept and release these thoughts since, the moment I have them. They’re only thoughts. I’m allowed to both have and express them.I don’t have to act on them, though, and neither do you. For forty years, I've been working to make sense of trauma, grief, and suicide loss. 

I know from personal experience (having lost three family members) the devastation suicide leaves for those left behind. As a two-time suicide survivor, I also understand the dangerous and debilitating effects of self hatred, depression, anxiety, and PTSD.

I've worked hard to cultivate supports who "get" me and allow me to show up authentically, no matter where I'm at on the grief or mental health spectrum. My mental health is my first priority, because when that's not in check, my life just doesn't work.Over the last several years I joined my local suicide prevention coalition and co-chaired two Out of the Darkness Community Walks. Currently, I volunteer for the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention's Healing Conversations Program, which offers peer support for survivors of suicide loss.

In 2017, I founded No Parameters LLC (www.noparameters.org) to help other trauma and loss survivors heal and feel like themselves again. These are my people and this is how I keep moving forward in my suicide loss recovery.

I believe isolation and disconnection are what lead to suicide, and that silence can be deadly. In order to stay grounded, I make it a habit to express myself genuinely and to connect within through daily meditation and mindfulness techniques. I also stay in regular contact with my in person and online supports.

I'm living proof there's life after trauma loss, but I believe it takes a small village to heal.

The above is an excerpt from Wake Me from the NIGHTMARE: Hope, Healing, and Empowerment After Suicide Loss, by R. Jade McAuliffe. 

With great difficulty. The only way I know how to handle anything is to push through it no matter how difficult it gets. When I start isolating, I sit and accept what’s going on. Even if I don’t want to connect with people, I do it anyway because ultimately that’s what does help. 

It’s that sense of community that brings people through hard times. It’s not helpful to cut people off when your mind is telling you that’s the best option. Your brain hates you sometimes, so it’s good to let others know how you’re doing when your brain can get stuck. 

How do you prefer to communicate with people when your suicidal thoughts get bad?

It’s hard for me to verbalize these thoughts. I tend to stick to written communication because it’s easier to get thoughts onto paper or screens than it is to say things sometimes. 

I have a select few people that I depend on, but I am quite stingy with my trust in people. 

People who have never been suicidal will likely never understand the depth of those feelings. The amount of sheer vulnerability it takes to reach out when you’re in that dark place is huge. People might refuse to reach out for help because of the negative responses of others. There are times when people who are trying to “help” will immediately call for a welfare check on someone thinking about suicide because they don’t know what else to do; those situations are rarely helpful. What would help is listening and simply taking the time to be with that person through their thoughts. 

In my role as a facilitator for the Alternatives to Suicide group, I’ve heard people say: “I can never say this in my actual life, and it’s a miracle that a place like this exists.” I think Alternatives to Suicide is an excellent alternative to more clinical groups or treatments. We often discuss how it’s not about taking suicide off the table, but that it’s more about making suicide option #100. For those who are thinking about suicide, it’s a comforting thought; it’s not a scary thought. Keeping it an option on the table is important. The Alternatives to Suicide approach suggests, “Let’s give you steps in between that decision. You still have that ‘safety blanket,’ and you also have all these people supporting you and other resources before suicide has to be an option.” 

Telling someone they cannot kill themselves is taking away their right to govern themselves.

What gets in the way of your wellness?

Usually myself. I’m the type of person who doesn’t act until pushed into a corner; I can’t get the motivation to do something until it builds up. I admit I am my own biggest obstacle in dealing with suicidal ideation. I can feel suicidal for a week, a month, etc., and not do anything about it. Once it gets to a certain point, I have to take action, and that’s what I do.

What does “taking action” look like for you? 

It usually looks like me reaching out to the people I trust. One of the things I’ve learned, having lived with bipolar since I was six, is that I have to reach out to people when I get to that point. I don’t trust my own thoughts when I’m in a negative head space. I have very intrusive thoughts daily, so I talk to the people I trust. Then, I’ll ask them what to do because they have a clear picture of what I deal with. If I have to do something else than just talk, we come to an agreement about what’s going to benefit me that won’t infringe upon my privacy. It’s a lot of trusting other people with my well being; I can’t always trust myself to not make an impulsive decision. 

How did you find what works for you?

Trial and error. What has not helped are those cliches like “think positive thoughts.” I was involved with therapy/counseling, but insurance has been a barrier. I’m already in my head so much, so I don’t need intensive DBT or CBT therapies. I’ve been able to flow into using coping strategies through basic talk therapy. I know I’m stubborn, so it’s good for me to get a third party opinion on issues sometimes. 

What does support or connection look like to you?

Supportive people are non-judgmental, non-reactive, and accepting. It’s very hard to get a rise out of me, so reactionary people make it difficult for me to share suicidal thoughts with them. The best thing in that moment is to say what’s in my head to just get it out. It helps to “see” my thoughts in a sense. It also helps when people can give authentic advice and validate what I’m feeling instead of just suggesting hospitalization or yoga. 

I refuse to speak to people about the suicidal aspect of my experience if they have not experienced it themselves. I know they still care, but they can be a hindrance when actually dealing with it. If you have not experienced these thoughts or if you’re neurotypical, you often rush to “fixing it.” I’ve dealt with this since I was twelve; there’s no “fixing” my suicidal thoughts. It’s more about acceptance. It’s about accepting that this is a part of me and understanding the difference between passive and active ideation in general. If people can’t differentiate between the two, I’m met with this consistent fear reaction or “I don’t know what to do.” It’s taxing because people will try to fix a problem that has no solution. Oftentimes, the best solution is to shut up and listen or just say “this sucks.” People who have been through it, get it. They’ve felt what it’s like to be preached at about how to fix something. We need to be told, “what you’re feeling matters and you’ll get through this.”

If it gets to the point where I do have to be hospitalized, I would much rather someone who has been suicidal come with me rather than someone who can’t understand what that’s like.

I’ve been to the hospital for serious suicidal ideation. It helped a bit, but I still had to do all the legwork through the process. The hospital I went to was helpful because I was able to be around people and had a chance to stabilize from my thoughts. I’m not a big fan of clinical settings; they don’t emphasize empathy and understanding. I believe that recovery is facilitated through connectivity, not medication and treatment. Those are nice tools, but they are useless if you don’t have support. When available, peer support is consistently a better option than clinical settings. A hospital stay is more of a stabilization, not a fix. You ultimately have to do the work yourself; no one can do it for you. 

What advice do you have for people working in suicide prevention?

Be open-minded and actually listen to the people who have been there. Don’t push the panic button the moment someone says the word “suicide.” It’s the most detrimental thing you could do. That shuts people off and makes people not want to come to you again. I’ve cut ties with people who have called welfare checks on me instead of talking with me about the situation. If you can’t understand it, say you can’t understand it. What we need is empathy. If you can’t feel the pain someone else is in, still just be there for them. 

Be there when they call the hospital or someone else. Simple gestures show you care. Humans are either the smartest or dumbest creatures. If we don’t understand something, we shut down. If you’ve never experienced suicidal thoughts, you have no measure of looking at it because it’s something you can’t imagine. It's like describing oxygen to something that doesn’t breathe oxygen. Honesty and empathy are key. If someone needs you there, be there. It comes down to honest and open communication, accepting that person in the place they are instead of looking for solutions. When I’m suicidal, I’m never wondering what to do. I’m not looking for someone to “fix me” or “fix my problems.” I don’t need to be told what to do. What I need is someone there to sit through it with me. My suicidal ideation is oftentimes temporary. Just knowing you have another person with you, someone to hold you accountable, gives you a sense of not being alone. You can’t deny that someone is there for you if they’re right there in front of you. It’s always comforting to have that person around you to not feel so alone and isolated. It’s hard for someone to be present to another person’s pain, but it’s through vulnerability that we grow. It’s through vulnerability that we find strength. If we don’t have the courage to be vulnerable, we don’t have courage at all.  

How do we reframe the suicide prevention narrative?

Through publicity. Through bold people talking about their experiences. Death makes people uncomfortable, and, especially with suicide, people feel very awkward talking about it. This is more than just a mental health conversation because we know that about half of the people who die by suicide do not have mental health diagnoses. Breaking the stigma in the mental health community about this, too, is important.Suicidal thoughts are symptoms of not only mental health conditions but life events, transitions, and a combination of societal factors. I think these are important steps to reframe the narrative around suicide and mental health. If we don’t take control of the problematic narrative society is pushing, that will be the dominant narrative. 

Even baby steps, like these conversations, this blog, our Alternatives to Suicide group, celebrities talking about their stories, can help shift this narrative. 

The thing that facilitates change is people, and people don’t want to reach out because of fear of ostracization. There is power in groups, there is security in being surrounded by people who say “me too.” Building community and cultural understanding are the most important things we can do right now. Change doesn’t happen fast, but we need to continue to step up and face these problems collectively as a community. 

I hope that, in sharing my experiences, it lessens the pain for someone else.

A LiFE OF HOPE: Discovering Me

It was the 1970’s and 80’s and my sense of self was a kaleidoscope of unpredictability. From being left at an abusive babysitter’s home for days on end to being moved into a stranger’s home for weeks with very little contact with my mother, I learned to accept my surroundings and not question. By the time we settled back into our house with some sense of predictability, the rules were already being rewritten. I was an outcast at school, my little brother an outcast at home, and my baby sister too innocent to understand it all. 

Keeping secrets to hide what goes on behind closed doors was a lesson learned at a very early age. With abandonment, alcoholism, drug use, physical violence, verbal abuse, sexual advances, and extreme control and fear embedded within the walls of every room, it was understood that what happened within our home, stayed within our home.  

By the age of twenty, I was eastward bound with husband number one at my side and expecting my eldest son. Anything to get away and make a new start. Fifteen hundred miles to separate what had been from what could be. I became a mother for the first time in early 1994. He was the love of my life and by his first birthday, we were on our own. Another marriage and baby later, and I seemed to have finally overcome my past. For all outward appearances, I had it all. Two beautiful little boys, big house on the hill, respected position in my work life, church leadership, and an engineer husband who supported adopting my little sister, moving her five states away to our Wisconsin home. Each day, I woke with the same goal; don't crack. Hide the fear. Fake it till I make it.   

The spiral downward can take many shapes and the higher a person is at the time of their decent, the harder they fall. By the beginning of 2001, my grandfather had died, I had left my loveless marriage, jumped into a very unhealthy relationship, lost my independent consultant business, sold my dog to buy food, was estranged from my mother, siblings, and grandmother, and faced homelessness. As I looked into the bright eyes of my children, I was pained by how little I had to give them and how much more they deserved. I was, after all, the failure in life I had tried so very hard not to be. My head replayed every harsh reminder my mother, step-father, and childhood peers had ever spoke. I was, in fact a bastard child, ugly, stupid, weird, and nothing more than a worthless whore. The façade of confidence and value were a tattered mask. I had worn it like a stolen cloak, only to have it stripped away, one thread at a time, until the only thing left was the tattered shreds of me. Broken. Alone. A burden to everyone around me; most of all my children. I was the greatest hurdle they would ever have to overcome.  

With a fist full of stones gripped firmly in my hands, I mentally hurled them at myself as I looked into the mirror. The hot water within the bathtub reflected the light of candles that broke up the darkness as I cried silently for my soul's pain to ease. In a blur of thoughts, emotions, and scattered memories, I stepped out of myself and into a space of pure desperation. It had come to this; all I could do was wait for the cycle of pain that filled my mind, heart, and pit within my gut to end.

No more secrets. No more shame. And no more hiding from a past I couldn’t outrun. This was all I had to give. A world without me was surely the greatest gift I had to offer to those I had failed far too many times.  

Sixteen years have passed since that near fatal day.  

Learning to live mentally well has been a slow process but I’ve come a long way. I’ve found forgiveness to be a gift—when I’ve forgiven others and especially when I’ve forgiven myself. “Deeatra, you can set healthy boundaries for yourself”, my therapist said during a session following my survived attempt to end my life. It was then that I recognized that living is so much more than a physical journey. Having a pulse. Breathing. They serve as signs of life, but living is a tricky balance between logic and emotion. Growing up, I believed acceptance was entirely dependent on how well I could mirror the expectations of others. Speaking my truth has meant opening past pains so that they can finally be healed. I no longer treat my chronic mental illness as one that is situational. I’ve fought through the judgement I placed on myself to enjoy the calm that accompanies genuine trust and love. I’ve remarried and seen my children grow into adulthood; so many beautiful memories that never would have been. I am forever thankful for the many second chances I’ve been given.  

I wish I could say that feelings of hopelessness are a thing of the past. But I still have days that knock me down. The defining difference is my ability to catch myself and tap into the many tools I’ve developed and surrounded myself with over the years. Healthy coping skills and relationships guide me through the darkness, helping me to distinguish between my fears and the hope that resides from within.  

Today, I am an advocate for mental wellness and suicide prevention—serving as a public speaker and the Founder and Executive Director of a nonprofit, LiFE OF HOPE. A quote by Jon Acuff fuels my new passion for life: “Sometimes God redeems your story by surrounding you with people who need to hear your past, so it doesn’t become their future.” May it inspire you as well.  

*The image featured on the right is Dr. Piparo's son, Tony John. 

Over the past 25+ years, Dr. Piparo has literally helped thousands of people overcome the adverse effects of stress and anxiety on their health, productivity, and quality of life.  His credentials include:

•         MS in Education – specializing in Learning Theory
•         MS in Kinesiology (Study of Human Movement)
•         PhD in Performance Psychology

Among his many research awards, Dr. Piparo earned the 1992 American Psychological Association’s Dissertation of the Year honors for his work on concentration and performance in sport.

In addition to his academic training, Dr. Piparo also has specialized training in NLP, Trauma Release Therapy, and Brain Gym^TM.

Tony also serves on the Steering Committee for Prevent Suicide of Greater Milwaukee and is a Collective Impact Parent Partner for the Wisconsin Office of Children’s Mental Health.

Please share a bit about your experience with suicide.

In March of 2017, after a long battle with depression, that started when he was eight years old, I lost my son, Tony John to suicide.

How do you cultivate community, especially when you feel alone and/or isolated

For me, it’s all about service.  I know that my son would never have wanted me to suffer because of his decision to end his life.  That’s not who he was or the way he lived his life.  He did everything he could to make life easier for others and to spread unconditional love.  So, to suffer after his death would have meant to dishonor his memory and what he stood for.  However, just trying to suppress, repress, or ignore my feelings would have just created long-term physical and mental health problems for me.  Instead, I sought out organizations dedicated to suicide prevention and improving mental health.  I know that’s what my son would have wanted me to do.

Today, I serve on the steering committee for Prevent Suicide of Greater Milwaukee and as a Collective Impact Parent Partner for the Executive Council of the Wisconsin Office of Children’s Mental Health.  I have also written books in honor of my son from research I conducted after his death, both of which have become best-sellers, and speak to as many groups and organizations as I can.  Finally, I’ve been trained as a QPR specialist to train others in recognizing the signs and preventing potential suicides.

What gets in the way of wellness, your healing, and/or recovery?

I can tell you what would have gotten in my way of healing and recovery.  Thinking that life ends with the physical death of the body and no longer being able to see him, hear his voice, or feel his body. However, while it was difficult at first and less difficult two years later, my belief and the new science of Quantum Physics prove that the soul exist and lives on.  Instead, when I start to feel pain from his loss, I remind myself how grateful I am that he chose me to be his father.  Of all the men available at the time, he chose me.  I then remember one or more of the many wonderful experiences we got to share when he was alive and the many things he accomplished during his life.  This allows me to see his face, hear his voice and feel his body as we hugged, all through the power of my imagination.  As a day hasn’t gone by without me thinking of him, these things are permanently etched in my mind and heart.

How did you find what works for you?

At the time of my son’s suicide, I had been studying the tenets of Science of mind as founded by Ernest Holmes over 100 years ago as well as the science of Quantum Physics, which came into being with the work of Albert Einstein and others not much later.  Science of mind is a spiritual approach to life that defines consciousness and reality in very different terms than what we are accustomed to.  It combines what we understand from our biblical teachings with that of the Upanishads.  Quantum Physics brings to life what we believe and actually prove many of those beliefs.  Together, belief and science have helped me understand consciousness and life in ways that are beneficial and allow me to interpret my experiences in ways that bring me peace, harmony, and joy into my life, regardless of the vagaries of the world, including the suicidal death of my son.

What does support or connection look like to you?

I want people in my life who are willing to reminisce with me about how beautiful, talented, and amazing my son was and to feel grateful that he brought so much love into the lives of everyone he met.  I do not want him remembered as someone who took his life, but all he contributed to the betterment of humanity.  I do not want people who feel sorry for me because he is no longer with me or tell me of all the things I will miss because he is no longer alive.  I also want people to stop me if I go on about his death or talk about my loss.  I want there to be a shared uplifting.  This is what my son would have wanted.

Freedom from Depression: 6 Keys to Eliminating Emotional Pain

“Regardless of all the risks factors associated with depression, two forces are prevalent in every sufferer’s experience, an overactive fight-or-flight reflex and a runaway Negative Programming Cycle that, together decimate self-esteem that spirals down into feelings of helplessness, hopelessness, and unworthiness, ultimately resulting in a deep, dark depression.  While we may not be able to do anything about the risk factors involved in depression, there are tools and training available that can intercede in the fight-or-flight reflex and Negative Programming Cycle that, in time and with practice can return those suffering from depression back to a state of mental wellness.”

My Son, My Hero:  From Tragedy to Hope and Inspiration

“Regrets and blame, shame, and guilt are normal reactions to the loss of a child to suicide.  While it may not be easy, learning to forgive ourselves and others and be grateful for all the wonderful things we have experienced in life will help us heal from our tragic loss.  Forgiveness and gratitude were both extolled in Jesus’s teachings.  They have also been proven by science to alter the structures, chemistry, and functions of our brains so that we experience life with love, joy, and abundance, instead of grief, pain, and loss.”

Patty’s involvement with mental health and suicide awareness is driven by her lived experience of over 20 years.  After a long road of recovery, Patty shares her story in order to give others hope and assist in identifying treatment gaps.  In every role, she is driven by her passion to raise awareness, support her peers, and increase knowledge and understanding to break the silence around mental health challenges and suicide.

12 Suicide Attempts…

50 Hospitalizations…

ICU Stays…

“You will never get better”

“She wants attention”

Those are words that I heard over and over for more than two decades of my life.  When you get told those words by professionals over and over, you start to live that way and believe it.  Words hurt! Everyone has a story.  There is a reason people are going through what they are going through and struggling with. 

There came a day when I wanted to end it all and take my life.  I thought no one understands, and I just wanted the pain to end; I couldn’t explain the deep pain I was feeling inside, but I felt empty and I was tired of fighting to live.  I grabbed a glass of water and my bottle of pills and, at the last minute, I remembered I had my new counselor’s phone number that she had given me a couple of weeks before.  I called her and waited….it felt like hours before she called me back which was probably only a few minutes.  I told her what was going on and she called the police.

I was terrified! I had a lot of thoughts going on in my head in only a few minutes.  I thought, “Had I done something wrong?  Was I going to be arrested?  I am going to jail?”  I had no idea what was about to happen!

I woke up in a psychiatric hospital.  Little did I know that this would be the start of the revolving door of psychiatric hospitals, emergency rooms, encounters with the police and mental health clinics for the next two decades.  This also would lead to a lot of judgments, pain, and labels that I would encounter because of my mental health condition.

Treatment did not come easy for me over the course of my illness.  Sometimes I would walk into the emergency room seeking treatment and they would see me and I would hear the nurses say “I do not want her, she always come in here”, “You take her”, “She just wants attention”.

Do people really think that I wanted the thoughts going through my head?  Do you really think I wanted to be there. Do people really think I had nowhere else I wanted to be? Do you really think I woke up that morning and said “I think I will go to the ER today?” NO! That is NOT how it works! I did not want those thoughts in my head!  I wanted to get rid of them; that is why I came to the emergency room.  I would also see the nurse and doctors eye rolls when they would see me because they would recognize me.  

No one asked to hear my story.  No one said, “I am so sorry.”  No one took the time to ask what I had been through to bring me to this point.  At one point early in my treatment, I was told by a psychiatric nurse that I had to accept that this would be my life and that I will always be in and out of the psychiatric hospitals for the rest of my life.  I held onto this comment for many years and lived this way for almost two decades.  I thought she was right; I thought, “Why even try if this would be my life?”

One time I went to a treatment provider right after a hospitalization and I walked in, sat down, and she told me that, because I have been hospitalized so much, she could no longer see me.  She looked up counselors and called a few but she could not find any that would take me once she said the word: “borderline personality disorder”.  Right before I left, she told me that my psychiatrist was going to tell me the same thing the next day.  So, I went to the store and bought a bottle of pills and a bottle of water and took them with me to my appointment.  I heard the same words I heard the day before.  I was done!  People were giving up on me once again. I was going to kill myself.  I told her that!  She said she had to call the police.  I told her I had the pills with me.  She got on the phone and I was sitting right there digging in my purse and she said, “I can’t stop you from taking them.”  To me, that was permission to take them, so I started popping the pills right in front of her.  She then said, “You don’t have to stay here,” and so I left popping pills all the way out to my car.  She followed me while she was on the phone watching me. I panicked and called 911, too.  They got there and got me to the emergency room.  I had a nurse in the emergency room say to me, “I don’t feel sorry for you.. You did this to yourself as I was drinking the stuff to soak up all the pills I just took.” I ended up in the intensive care unit for a couple days almost damaging my liver.

My last suicide attempt happened when I thought I was doing okay.  I was with a counselor I trusted and it was working.  I was in Dialectical Behavior Therapy Group and was working hard on my recovery.  I was realizing how much you have to work at your recovery.  I was also realizing it is not a perfect path.  I had just got back from a missions trip and the suicidal thoughts came back.  I had a safety plan but I failed to use it. I had people to call but again I failed to use them.  I had mapped out a plan to kill myself and this time it involved crashing my car into a tree.  One morning I woke and it was the day...I was driving and picked up speed in the car and I did it ...I crashed into the tree.  It didn’t work I survived..not even a broken bone.  A passer-by called the police and I remember telling the paramedics that “I did this on purpose and I need help”. He said “don’t worry, we will get you help”.  I showed up to the same emergency room that I had been at times numerous times before but this time something was different. They were a little more compassionate and caring and they got me to where I needed to be.  By them acting different with compassion and caring they have now seen less of me for mental health needs in the emergency room.

One day I was thinking how people don’t understand depression and suicide. Friends were leaving me.  My family was not talking to me much at this time. I came to the realization maybe it wasn’t them maybe, it was me.  Maybe they didn’t understand depression and suicide because they haven’t been there.  Maybe I need to do something different.  I thought maybe I need to change my social media post to something more positive instead of something negative all the time.  I began to realize that my negative thinking and talking was feeding the negative feelings I had going on and that was translating on everyone else and people did not want to be around that.  Would I want to be around someone like that?  No, I don’t think so.  I began to think and had some revelation that I really needed to work harder and work on changing. I needed to call my friends more and instead of talking about me I needed to talk to them about them and ask them how they were doing.  If I wanted people to understand depression and suicide, I realized that I needed to educate them. People can’t understand something if they have never experienced it.  I realized I also had to be my own advocate.

So, in a combination of me finding that realization, finding the right therapist, becoming a volunteer as well as starting to become an advocate in mental health and suicide awareness I found my voice and I found recovery.  It is not an easy journey and it is not a straight path but I have surrounded myself with a great support system and work on being honest with them as well as being honest in my speaking engagements to let people know that someone that has struggled with mental health conditions and suicide sometimes is not just “cured” one day.  When we share our stories, we are saving lives.