Mother- Disclaimer: Read at your own discretion, this short story is about suicidal idealization, if you are in a state where you can easily be triggered please read no further as what I wrote is pretty graphic. Note: This is a story about my Mother, who 20 years ago today committed suicide. It then progresses to a time in my life I was dealing with the after affects of a verbally abusive and very unfaithful ex-wife and my own obsession with suicide, at times I still struggle with this thought which is why in the past I have blogged so much about struggles and ideas on how to move forward in my life and soul search, I realize that often my fight to learn is more than just due simply to personal growth but about my continued struggle to exist on this earth. I wanted to share this blog with those out there who may have felt this way so they don't feel alone, but more to help those who have never understood the idea of suicide so they might see how it does feel in order to be able to better support those they might know that do feel this way. It might also help them to understand just how the thoughts start to build and the isolation that a person goes through during such a time. It's important that you all know this is not who I am now, I do better understand the consequences of such thoughts and now know how to find a better route from this trap of thinking, I also understand those areas in my life I was lacking in so that I can better fill those areas with more healthy thoughts. Part of the reason I wrote this in the third party is due to wanting to separate my now from my then, I feel this was a different person then, although at times when feeling threatened I may occasionally revert back to this way of thinking, my whole need for the soul searching that I do now is due to this way of thinking and working to walk beyond this trap I was at one time in. I ask anyone else who has these thoughts in their head to not pass on these"voices". Ending your life in such a way only passes such voices on to the people who love you. One More Note: I realize also how angry I was then, while writing this through my tears I felt a need to disguise my feelings and emotions wondering how others reactions would be, but then I realized this would just continue the silence I was forced to carry all my life and if I wanted to truly take this next step in my life it would be best to write things just as they were then, of course it has been 20 years since my Mothers suicide, and almost 10 years since the issues with my Ex wife, so my memories are not entirely accurate, but I do know my tendency to think this way is very clear....even now due to how strong I felt it back then. Please e-mail me your thoughts on this story, ........................................................................................................................ Mother There was a sort of empty isolation in her life, living up there in Sussex County, things were great in one sense but she was left feeling the effects of a horrible marriage which left her in a strange state in this world now. She was honestly left feeling like she didn't exist in so many ways it was impossible to describe, yet for someone who didn't exist she felt so much pain and torment it was like she was in hell on so many levels. Each day she had to drive two hours, round trip, past mountains and through valleys to a town called Newton and back in order to bring youngest son to preschool and back, for a while all was going well but than husband started to do horrible things, things which truly devastated her world, things so horrible repeating them is something she finds impossible to speak of in most situations. It all felt as if her life was on teeters and she knew that her dreams of the perfect mother were out the door because she could not concentrate on anything else but this current tragedy she was facing. All she could think about was an end to all this pain. "Oh that is not true" she thought to herself in this deep despair. "I have been this way before my husband stepped in and did what he did." Remembering when she left her first husband years before. All she wanted to do that two weeks during her temporary stay at the mental health center was sit and listen to def leopard. The music was her existence, she would listen with a deep infatuation word upon word. It was almost like she wasn't on this earth, she was instead lost in her mind, a strange sense of magic filling her world at this thought of suicide, suicide seeming beautiful and magical to her within this deep obsession. Obsessions are strange, they are sort of off-set in your world and the ugly sometimes appears beautiful, it appears to be something that fits almost a god-like status in your life as you delve more into it to replace that empty feeling inside which you are incapable of facing at the moment. It was not that she didn't want to face the past but simply did not know how, there was no way to understand all she had gone through and no true realization of the abuse she had been through, her mind had been so stuck into the world of denial all that time with husband that she could not release from it enough to face what she was feeling now, so instead ending it all made more sense, it not only made sense, it was somehow her knight in shining armor. It was somehow a promise of a better world, a better world to her was a world of nothing, a world of non-being. It was that sought after fountain of youth that Marilyn Monroe had so deeply embraced and she must have admired Marilyn for the sad reality of her will (or what she felt and thought was the"courage") to end her life. Other minds would say "but no this is not the fountain of youth, this is not a promise of hope, this is pain and torment for your loved ones" but in her mind she would have returned that statement with "I don't know of existence anymore... all I know of is this pain inside and this hatred for myself for being so worthy of what has happened to me, all I know of is what my past has taught me" Nothing you could say to someone in her state would have changed the way she saw things. In fact when the few others who tried to reach her would say to her that she would only hurt others if dead, it almost made her embrace this obsession more, because she was hurting and that statement portrayed to her that they were saying only other hurts mattered, that her hurts did not matter, furthering her belief inside that she was not worthy of anything but this pain, but somehow suicide in her mind could help stop that struggle within her of trying to define her worthiness or lack thereof. She sat outside on the porch after her release from that place, despising her situation with Older son who was always bantering Mother taking advantage of this transition in her life to simply try to get away with doing the bad things that older sons do when they are thirteen. If Older son had only known Mother would be dead a weak later. Sure she knew inside that Older son wasn't the only reason that she was this loony, in reality she embraced this insane part of her, it was quite exciting and more than anything it protected her from Husband. Husband being so full of guilt trips every minute Mother was around Husband, something was always there to make her feel bad... it was as if she was stuck in some sick Shakespeare play not knowing how to escape from the never ending drama as that poor tortured victim named Mother was treated so wrongly by Children while they were growing up, every minute Children would say they felt, it was wrong in Mothers eyes, every time they felt and showed expression in their faces, they were wrong. So she proudly pulled out her Pills to Older son, "See what I have to take because of you", She would yell at Older son. Others might try to hide that they were on anti-depressants, but to her it was beautiful, it was her trophy in a strange embracing-this-sickness kind of way, she knew that Older son would get the hint on the subconscious level by seeing her yell and wave her pills, and she could then protect herself from Older sons bantering by saying only half truths still showing him the full truth while waving the pills, although not in words. The half truths she spoke so well, learning easily to be convincing when necessary as she had learned all her life to cover up her feelings, But she knew that her pills were really telling Older son something different and something she wanted him to know yet could never tell Older son. Older daughter could probably sense Mother had been taken down this path, Mothers actions really saying certain words to Older daughters subconscious and stabbing deep inside Oldest daughter, no room there to place her overflowing pain, Mother speaking unheard words with her tears, "Woe is me! I am so terrible for your hurting that I need your comfort for causing your pain! How dare you try to talk to me about it, when I feel this terrible, how dare you seek my comfort when you see me hurting so much for the things that I did, how dare you be angry with me when I am hurting because of this, how dare you feel, HOW DARE YOU FEEL!" Mothers thoughts truly were usually more this "You are hurting me by telling me these things!" -or- "I never said it like that!" -or- "I think you are taking things out of hand, you are acting like Husband!" Always using Husband, or perhaps if it wasn't that, it was "Husband was the one that really did that to you!" -never- "I am sorry." Husband perhaps could have said that the pope was the one who impregnated Britney Spears and it would have come out persuasive, always making Mother feel confused and therefore guilty, yet somewhere in her logic and beyond this spin of confusion she knew it was not real. With Mother, all she had to do was cry and it was enough to turn Older daughters words away, so Older daughter learned to not say things. Mother learned to be like "Husband" who always yelled as if a child having a tantrum, yelling and yelling at Older daughter, perhaps to try to just hear logic for one brief and fleeting moment in this illogical spin which twisted Mothers and Older daughter worlds causing them to feel dizzy with confusion on Husbands manipulations. If only Older son could have actually spoken the true words, but he was certain Mother would have responded to them in the wrong way, she would have said "Yes I take these pills because of Husband, but more I TAKE THEM BECAUSE OF YOU! Because of how your bantering has made me try to get away from all of this." So he did not say these things to this woman who was called Mother. Sure Older son played a role but he knew deep inside he only had a small part to play in some of the pills, other parts were more than that, other parts were so deeply embedded in her silence. And she knew that the pills were there to reveal the silence while at the same time prevent the truth from her lips, to reveal it this way through these pills it was so much easier, the pills made it much harder for Mother to turn around and say "Woe is me!" when Older daughter came with these scars that Mother could not understand. Husband who did not really care had heard about these pills and would say to Mother, "its about attention", -or- "its about manipulation"... She knew somehow that was a lie although it seemed to be that way in her doubts when she showed Older son the pills, yet in the back of her mind she knew what her intentions were, it was more than what they liked to label this as, it was really about speaking when silenced, it was the only way Mother had a voice and the only way she knew to embrace her anger, and she also knew that this was why she embraced her madness. She despised Husband, not saying so, not feeling worthy to feel so, but she still despised Husband. But more than Husband she despised herself. As she drove down that highway from Sussex to Newton, past the mountains and valleys she must have thought about these things. Contempt mixed with pride. An arrogant sort of pride she held while being suicidal. Somehow she must have felt like a supervillian, this mystique of the idea of creating her own death. It did not make sense to her but still none the less she felt the most full of life at this moment she fantasized at the thought of her own death, wishing for it, hoping for it, and needing it on so many levels she didn't feel anyone could understand. She must have thought about taking the pills and sleeping under the stars, thinking about how cold and damp it was that time of year, and the shock on her Husbands face if she had in fact died that way, a fantasy that she was in fact waiting to die, in her mind, in the world where she could have some sort of control, control at least in her own death, hoping it was Husband who found her with the look of shock. "Perhaps" she sickly thought "Perhaps than Husband could not place guilt on her, perhaps Husband than would face himself!" although inside she doubted highly this. Part of her must have wondered if Husband would dance on her grave as if this heavy burden in his life had left the earth, perhaps Husband would have a big smile on his face as he saw Mother lying there dead, merely pretending later for others, but feeling deep inside that he had gotten finally rid of this burden in his life. So Mother made her plans, and set them in motion, She followed the instructions the voices in her head gave her. Passing on the voices to Older son, Older son would here the voices faintly at first, but it wouldn't be long before they grew louder, Older son getting older as the years after Mothers suicide flew by, and facing his own hardships along his path. Pains he felt from a soon to be Ex wife, would teach him how to better here such voices. Older son feeling so weak and afraid that he hadn't reached this point that Mother had in this concept of suicide, he had made small steps with obsessing but he had failed to even go as far as giving it a true effort, unless you counted the entire bottle of ibuprofen he took (he knew that it would have only caused his kidney damage and nothing more). Or could you count the time when after he moved away from Ex wife that he tried to hang himself with a belt as an attempt? He of course knew logically it would not work because he would first pass out and lose his grip before the possibility of death, leaving him only a bruised and painful neck when he later awoke, all feeble attempts that were cushioned by knowing deep inside his logic they would not work. He had logic, although Ex Wife made him feel stupid in subtle ways, but deep inside he knew that he was smart, at least smart enough to recognize his feeble attempts for what they were. He thought more about these attempts, the time he tried to jump from a car going 130 miles per hour, it didn't surprise him when the door pushed against him as the wind would not let him jump out like often falsely glammed in movies, logically he knew that when racing at a high speed the pressure of the wind is to strong against the door, deep inside as he had unbuckled and tried to release himself from not just the seat belt but his life, he knew the wind probably would push the door and not allow him passage, so he knew he had been cushioned from these attempts, role playing in his mind that he was brave enough yet deep inside feeling like a failure and admiring those like Mother and Marilyn that didn't fail like he always did. He thought about Mother who was like him and yearned death, even at that time in the midst of the abuse that Ex wife had put him through, he felt shame for not being that strong. In his mind Mother was a hero held high on the pedestal created by some sick and twisted obsession he held, Mother had the guts to bring about her end, something he feared so much but yet yearned so badly for. He sat there outside his house during the weeks before he finally moved to New York and away from Ex wife's torment, puffing on a cigarette, wishing for some drug to create an empty void to shield him from this inner empty void, looking out at the electrical wires attached to the house. He wasn't familiar with these bigger wires because he was in his mid 20's and had not taken an interest in such things, he didn't know if they had any shock value if he was to just jump up and try to catch them or even if he needed more, like some other metal to hold onto, he had heard of a man who died while falling out of a hot air balloon, he died because he caught a power line and this reminded him that you can electrocute yourself, but he was unsure how exactly he had died and this thought as terrible as it was and uncaring for this mans death at that selfish moment filled up his one tracked mind of suicide, along with that glee and power when he thought of self-murder, not murder of anyone except his own self. He obsessed over the idea of hanging from those wires as electricity surged through his entire body, and just the image made him smile in some sick grin, a grin he could imagine someone horrible would have as they did murder an innocent victim, but to him he was not innocent, simply by his existing he caused Mother misery, by him not hearing Mothers cries for help he caused Mother misery, by being abused by Father he caused Mother misery, by being born he caused Mother misery. He wondered sardonically "I must have given my mother a terrible labor, long hours of torture, perhaps this is why she felt this way about me, why she didn't love me enough to not kill herself" and another part, that little devil in his mind, sometimes in his states of madness he could even speak out this little devils words to himself, this devil saying "You deserve to feel this way because you are a fucking loser!" this thought going deeper and deeper into him as he embraced the fact that Mothers misery truly was because he was a bastard and a loser, and delving now into the world of his own self pity, something that seemed to be self hate but in all reality was self pity for not knowing how else to feel when all he wanted was to make Ex wife happy and all Ex wife did was show him he was this failure, Older son thinking he was the cause of some torturous tormenting long labor where Mother must have felt like instead of Older son being born, a child filled with razors was falling through her body and out into a demons life, oh the scream of this devil child must have been strong and torturous as he was born he must have shrieked the most deadly cry that tore into Mothers ears and Mother must have never been the same. To be the devil child, the bastard, and the loser, the one not wanted... all of these thoughts roaming his mind like a wild sick creature eating away at him as he thought more and more about how he was not worthy. The idea of hanging there as burnt charcoal for Ex wife to come later and see, and smile that this unworthy child which had shrieked painful demon cries at birth and shoved razor's through Mothers body as he was born, hanging stuck above Ex wife's head would be some victory to Ex wife smirking at the charcoal demon child that she never loved anyways. As he drove back to his home from work everyday thinking these thoughts, of feeling unloved, feeling that the only power he had was suicide, that somehow this was what Ex wife wanted anyways, he drove past a ravine that always seemed to call his name. It was like a ghost and he was there to struggle against it "-----Michael------------" its haunted voice would sing to him, "look beyond and see what I offer, this is your change in life from your despair and torment." It sliced into his brain with lies. Yet he held on for very good reasons beyond the pain of Mother and Ex wife, the reasons being others who depended on his existence. Still at the same moment despising himself for hanging on, seeing no hope in his future, yet he knew that he could not fall to the voices now as he imagined himself flying off that cliff into the hard land below. Would he die or be stuck to a life of being in a wheelchair faintly looking out to life. Perhaps he would have simply bounced a bit on the ground and got arrested for reckless behavior if the drop was not far enough to end him. The promise the words from this ghost voice took control of his hands for but a moment. He fought against it as this thing seemed to want to move his hands in the direction its words were pointing. Pulling back hard in his mind to regain control of the hands, knowing there was truly only one reason to stay, and it wasn't this time that he was "weak" for not ending himself, it was those who needed him which caused him to stay, not Ex wife who wanted him to end just as much as he needed to end, but those others that depended on him. The voices rang to him every time that he passed that ravine, eerily saying to him "all it would take is that one fast drive in the wrong direction, all it would take and then it would be over, no more worries, no more fears, you could join Mother and Marilyn" But something in him would not let him follow, perhaps it was the stronger voices inside him, voices Mother must have ignored. Saying to Older son, "there are others who you must think about". And somehow he survived, carrying with him in life this love/hate affair - a struggle which he was sure he was to fight for the rest of his life but perhaps as time went by it would not speak to him any longer and only be a faint memory or a faint longing within his life.
Hello JerseyMike, I am so sorry your mom ended her life 20 years ago. No child should have to deal with that kind of grief. I, like her, went through a terrible divorce and my children were very critical of me. I understand much of her pain but I cannot understand why she would end her life. My eldest daughter rebelled against me and even made me go through a psych eval but she and i get along great now. Do you think the antidepressants could have had a roll in making her go through with the suicide? Many antidepressants have suicidal thoughts as a side effect. I refuse to take them for just that reason. Instead I took an natural herb called 5-HTP for my depression when I left my ex and I had to deal with my third baby dying in my arms after a doctors mistake during that time. The pain from that part of my life is over now. I walked in on a suicide of an old friend once. It inspired this poem I wrote on Tumblr When I read what you wrote about her I could feel so much empathy. I hope you and her other children know that it was not your fault. You were all behaving like normal children do under those circumstances. Plus having a verbally abusive spouse can be worse than physical abuse sometimes. I hope some day you find a spouse who is kind and gentle. You can end your suffering without killing yourself which seems to be what you have realized. It is just a matter of changing your life for the better. The way I did that is I went back to school as a non traditional student, I focused on writing, I focused on art and music.
