Nearly 6 Years Since You Left
I find myself reading mom’s letter with a weird sense of peaceful understanding for once.
Not from a place of feeling the same as she did, but from a place of being able to finally understand what she was telling me, what she was feeling, the release she must’ve felt when making that decision for herself. A place no longer filled with anger, but rather the ability to accept the reality, and the desire to ensure I live enough life for the both of us.
Many people treat and talk about suicide as this unforgivable, selfish act that should be condemned and criminalized (is a sin to those who are religious, ofter referred to as “committed” suicide, revokes the survivors rights to the “survivors benefits” on any type of insurance); but it really is a last attempt at finding any form of peace for themself.
The understanding that life is really heavy, and painful, and exhausting. The understanding that the day-in-day-out actions of simply just surviving are officially too heavy to carry, and there’s no one around to pass off the weight to.
It’s a reality for too many people, a reality I’ve caught glimpses of over the past 6 years, and a reality I’m grateful to have been able to navigate my way out of.
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I had this conversation with a team member at Wirth a few months ago when we first met and were reflecting on the work that we do in our personal lives. It was the first I’d heard someone vocalize my thoughts - a thought we survivors feel a lot of guilt for ever having - but it was this mutual understanding, discomfort, and gratitude towards the fact that this beautiful, empowering, and impactful thing that’s been created would not have been created had the tragedy not happened.
It’s a hard thought to grapple with because on one hand, there’s the majority of you that would do anything to reverse time and prevent your loved one from taking their own life; to show them all the beauty that is still yet to be found, to help carry them through the days for just a little bit longer.
But then there’s that little part of you that knows even if you went back in time - you were never equipped to carry their weight. You’re not them, and there’s only so much you can do to support someone through those dark moments, and ultimately you do not carry the responsibility of keeping a life alive. You can support it, and help it along, but at the end of the day - it is not your burden to carry if it does not decide to continue to live.
This little part also knows that by choosing to take this tragedy and turn it into something beautiful to impact others for the better, is one that will only leave you more patient, more empathetic, more understanding, more gentle and loving… if you let it.
It’s easy to let the tragedy harden you and turn your back on the world. It’s easy to only spot the negative. It’s easy to bury yourself in the darkness when it feels like the world is only caving in further around you. But all that does is close the world off and takes away your chance of truly living a life for you.
I’m not saying everything in life has beauty and I’m not saying you should always look for the bright side of things. But I do believe that after tragedy - if you find the courage to look for it - there is beauty to be found. Whether that’s because of it, for it, or in spite of it… beauty can always be found.
It just might take some time and a lot of surviving to get there.
Stay passionate and curious,
Hunter 💛Ps. If you, or anyone you know is in need of counseling, Wirth Foundation provides free counseling to those who need it. Simply fill out their form and someone will connect with you for next steps.
