How I Have Healed During the Three Years Since My Husband Ended His Life

Three years. I can’t believe how quickly time flies yet how slowly as well. And I still can’t believe that this is the trajectory that the life of myself and my daughter has taken. March 26, 2016 was the day that my husband Rick ended his life. It pains me to write this. And if truth be told, I find it hard to write the word suicide. Something about that word – I just can’t.

I’m not sure why I am writing this post but I feel compelled to write it for some reason. Perhaps it’s because I want my husband to not be forgotten, perhaps it’s because I want to help someone who is grieving the loss of a spouse or loved one who died this way. Maybe my words can help someone to move forward with their life after such a traumatic and defining moment. Or maybe, just maybe someone who is thinking of taking their life will seek help and not go through with it. That is my hope.

In January, 2017 for #BellLetsTalk day (to help end the stigma associated with mental illness) I wrote a heartfelt blog post entitled “Depression: Why I Think My Husband Took His Life.” Ten months after Rick’s death, I was still struggling to make sense of it all. We all were. The blog post was picked up by a national, well-read magazine and ran on their website for about six months until I had them take it down. It was read by thousands of people, some of whom commented, messaged and emailed me to say that they were affected by suicide in some way.  I am truly thankful that our story helped a lot of people but I felt that the post was too personal to share in the end and I also took it down from my website. However, I am using some of the wording here. {Update: The post from January 2017 is up again and as mentioned there is an overlap in wording between these two posts.}

But this post is not about the why. We will never truly know what Rick was thinking on that day or leading up to that day. He was depressed but was not diagnosed with depression. I mistook his apathy and demeanour which, looking back had changed over the course of a few months before he died, for being tired and worn out from work. I failed to see that he was worn out from life. He was depressed but he hid it from everyone.  He did leave a note on his phone but it didn’t explain why he did this. Part of it read “This is no one’s fault but my own. Life got too hard and I couldn’t go on.”

This post is about the grieving process and how the past three years have unfolded for my daughter and I as we navigate a road to happiness. Because isn’t that what we all want?

Grief is not something you get over, it changes over time but like love, it never ends. Grief is different for everyone; grief is personal; grief is complicated; grief sucks. And grief from suicide is also different from grief from other losses that aren’t sudden.  You don’t have a chance to say goodbye as it is unexpected and you are left with many questions that you will never know the answers to. I have since learnt that this type of grief is referred to as traumatic grief.

You have an agonizing heartache and you go through a wave of different emotions. I was so angry that Rick deliberately ended his life when he had Maya and I, especially Maya who he loved unconditionally and wholeheartedly. Angry that he didn’t reach out to me, family, friends or anyone and seek help. Guilty that I didn’t see the signs and ask the right questions.  (Although everyone, including my therapist, says there is nothing that I or anyone else could have done.) Devastated because I will never see his beautiful, smiling face, hear his voice or be in his kind and gentle presence ever again. The finality is overwhelming. And overcome with sadness and grief that Rick felt that ending his life was the only option for him.

I realize now that I was in shock for probably the first six months after Rick passed. I was on auto pilot plus overwhelmed with meeting with lawyers, the bank, the funeral director etc. Also, selling our house, buying a new house, going through all of Rick’s belongings, packing and moving. It was a lot to take on all the while grieving. My therapist reminded me recently that at my first appointment with her a month after Rick passed, I started to cry and said “I don’t know why I am so upset and not over this.  It’s been a month.” She said I was in complete shock and had a blank look on my face.

Some days, I feel like I’m having an out of body experience, that this isn’t my life, that this didn’t really happen. Overall, the number of times that I cry has lessened as has the number of times that I re-read Rick’s texts or emails to me. I still talk out loud to him but not as frequently as I did. I know some people say they can feel the presence of their deceased loved one but I have never found that to be the case unfortunately. There are definitely things that trigger sadness like finding a note in Rick’s handwriting or hearing a song that brings back memories. Or going into an Indigo/Chapters store which is where the three of us used to go often as he loved books and was an avid reader. And I can’t grocery shop at a certain store still as he always did the groceries there on Saturdays.

But despite all of that, overall I would say that I’m definitely finding joy every day and moving forward one day at a time. You adjust to life without your person.

These are the ten things/people that have really helped me in the past three years:

1) Therapy:  I really don’t know what I would do without my therapist. I have been seeing her regularly over the past three years and our discussions although centered around grief in the beginning, and still touches on grief as it arises, now also focuses on me as a whole person.  My thoughts, feelings, patterns, triggers and the ongoing growth of being human.  I have learned so much in the past years about suicide, myself, parenting, my childhood, essentially where I’m going and where I came from.  My therapist says she has seen the growth and change in me over the years which is so good to hear.

2) Yoga: My local Modo Yoga studio has saved me and I have withdrawals when I’m not on my mat regularly. I can only practice hot yoga now – something about the heat and sweating out all the bad/negativity and toxins.

3) Physical activity: For me, besides yoga, that means walking the dog, hiking or working out either at the gym or at home. I try to do at least one hour of physical activity a day. Endorphins are my drug of choice.

4) My daughter: Maya was 13 when her Dad passed away. They were the best of friends and I loved watching them together – all their inside jokes that I knew nothing of. She is still unable to talk about him which is very common I have come to learn. She still won’t go to the cemetery and doesn’t like when I recall a memory or mention his name. It’s too painful for her. Her coping mechanism is blocking things out and I do this to some extent too – it’s less heartbreaking not to think about Rick sometimes. I am so thankful that I have her – she keeps me going. She is so strong even though she has struggled with her own mental health these past three years. Being a teenager today is difficult enough but having this loss on top of it, well, I’m sure it’s just too much for her some days. Dear God: Please keep Maya happy and healthy and safe. This is the prayer that I say every single day.

5) Support from friends and family: During the first year, I had people who would check in on me daily. That has changed somewhat over the past year or so as people probably think it’s been three years so I must be doing OK by now. I do so appreciate the support I have received though especially when people still ask how I’m doing and acknowledge what we have been through. I still tear up when people ask how I am, the pain is still there but I think the tears are also because they care enough to ask. Not sure if that makes sense but that just came to me as I was writing.

6) Our dog Ellie: She truly is woman’s best friend and loves unconditionally. She is our therapy dog and seems to absorb all our stress and sadness. I never was a “dog person” until now. Highly recommend getting a dog if you are grieving, sad or lonely.

7) Prayer: I’m not a consistent church going person (who am I kidding? I rarely go to church) but I have always believed in the power of prayer. I find comfort in talking to God and Rick. I must admit though that my talks with Rick are usually about me saying I’m sorry – sorry that I missed the signs, sorry that I wasn’t as compassionate as I could have been, sorry that you are not here to see Maya grow up. PS Rick, you were right. Maya has turned into the most beautiful human being and you would be so proud of her. I hope you can see that from Heaven.

8) Work: Pouring yourself into something that you love (I’m an Interior Decorator for those new here) is fulfilling and a great way to occupy your mind. I haven’t taken on many large projects lately, mostly consultations only but finally feel I’m ready to take on more. I’m thankful that the clients I have had these past three years know my story and are understanding. Some days I just can’t get out of bed, most nights I don’t sleep well so have to nap during the day. It’s something I really need to work on going forward. (My sleep issues are not all to do with grief, however.)

I also have renovated almost every room in this house and it truly is our sanctuary – our happy place. I’m so grateful that we have this home.

9) Travel: I have been fortunate to have been able to travel for work and pleasure these past three years. It really is an escape and seeing the world gives you an appreciation for art, architecture and people across the globe.

10) Finding love again: I decided that I no longer want to be sad or have Rick’s death define who I am or mean that my life is over. And I don’t label myself as a widow. I am still young (relatively speaking) so last year, I decided to join an online dating site as I just felt like for the first time in years that I was ready. For two years, the thought of meeting someone else didn’t enter my mind. I had no space for that in my heart or life. But I think most people want to have a special someone in their life to do things with and share experiences with. We all crave connection, right? I confided with my neighbour (who sadly lost his wife to cancer the week we moved in to our house) that I started dating again after 23 years. He said “You look happy. We all deserve to feel alive again.” And I wished that for him.

Rick was my best friend. The person I could tell anything to and not be judged. The person who knew me and accepted me even at my worse. Hard working, funny, handsome, smart, respectful, supportive – the best Dad.

Ricky – You were not a burden. You were worthy. You were enough. You were a beautiful person and we miss you so. xo

If you are depressed and are thinking of taking your life, please, please talk to someone – a relative, friend, therapist, anyone. And if you notice a friend or loved one struggling – if they seem consistently tired, worn out, not themselves, please reach out to them with love and compassion. I wish I had.

Here is a link to local agencies across Canada that can help. This link has suicide prevention lines worldwide. In the US, the National Suicide Prevention line is 1-800-273-8255.

I wish you all well,