April 25, 2016

Three days ago marked the one year anniversary of my husband’s suicide and I’m still alive. I really didn’t think I would be. In my support group and in the books I have read, they all say that it is “normal” to want to be with our loved ones when this has happened. People can try and help guide that someone from completing suicide, but that person needs to want that help. I’m writing today because all I can do is show people what will happen to some of the ones you care for and love the most after you have murdered yourself. Some of your loved ones new “normal” will want to be with you…dead….and not just in the beginning….off and on for months sometimes years upon years. Some of your loved ones new “normal” will be to cry uncontrollably every time they are triggered by a memory of you. It could be a photograph, a toothbrush of yours they are unwilling to pack away, or just a random memory that has popped in their minds for the 100th time that hour. For me, every time I see a family, I am reminded that my family is dead. Of course I still have my sisters and my parents…but I’m talking about the family I was building…my past, my present, and was supposed to be my future…he’s gone and is never coming back. Part of my new “normal” is living in fear of what’s to come. What is my new future going to look like? Where am I going? What am I doing? What should I be doing? These are the questions I ask myself several times a day. Some of our new “normals” is to have spontaneous anxiety, an unbreakable sadness, a silent rage, and guilt beyond belief. I know that I did not kill Brett…I was doing the best with the knowledge I knew at the time and I was getting him help…he just didn’t want it and more so, he didn’t think he deserved it. He didn’t think anyone cared about him because he couldn’t care about himself. He was so completely wrong. In part of his letter he wrote, “it was always you that kept me going Lindsey. You deserve so much better.” Is this what I deserve Brett? I miss you every damn day. I just want to see you and hold you again. I want to kiss your cheeks and slap your ass before you head off to work at night. I want you to make love to me when I come home from work. I just want and have always wanted you Brett. The worst part of the new “normal” is when someone mentions your name…instead of remembering your talent, your hard work, your humor, your amazing brown eyes…your legacy will always first be remembered by your suicide.Today would have been your 36th birthday…instead of us eating sushi for dinner, I’m writing this message and you will remain 34 forever Brett.

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