In one of the videos I watched today, I heard someone say words to the effect of “One minute you are speaking your mind and voicing your opinion and the next time you are seen, you don’t have one (meaning an opinion)”.
I took it personally, and my mind instantly went back to when someone I loved died by suicide when I was 21. Afterward, I felt responsible because he had left a letter for me—even though I never read it, since I was living three provinces away at the time. It was at that moment that I remember changing from someone who expressed themselves without reservation to holding my opinion in case my words harmed someone.
Until today, I didn’t really realise that was the moment I started being someone other than my true self and adapted to a new way of being. It’s not that I wasn’t being myself – I was, but in some ways, I was holding myself back, or as people say, making myself small to keep others comfortable. It wasn’t about trying to please anyone; it was about the irrational belief that I was indirectly responsible for someone taking their own life, and the heavy burden of knowing I’d have to carry that responsibility for the rest of my days. I know that it wasn’t my fault and that it was mental illness at play when he committed suicide like his father did.
But that was an AHAH moment for me today. Recognizing just when I began to change from who I was to the more reserved me.
I’ve been thinking about that most of the day and how I changed over the years because of that one act.
If I were able to help others who are the survivors of people who commit suicide, it would be to tell them that it wasn’t their fault, and advise them to not change who they are because of some imagined guilt they are feeling – and that they are not responsible for someone killing themselves.
Further, I would advise them to stay true to themselves unless they want to become something they are not. Looking back on life many years down the road to remember just when you shut yourself down to become a different version of yourself for something that was not your fault.
There were 43 years of change from who I was to my AHAH moment today at the age of 64. That’s a long time away from being who I was meant to be. Recovering that lost self and reintegrating it may be a tad difficult, but I’m willing to get it done.
Hindsight certainly is 20/20 but we can’t spend our lives looking in the rearview mirror. The past is already dead and gone, you can only look forward to the present moment and hope for the future.
All we have is NOW. Don’t let anyone take the NOW away from you because you fear being yourself and you fear the impact of how what you say is received by someone else. You cannot live in fear of someone harming themselves or killing themselves because, ultimately, that is their decision, not yours.
I owe myself a huge apology for re-traumatizing myself every time I shrank and was not open to voicing my opinion for fear of someone hurting themselves. For every time I did not say what I should have said, etc. That is a lot of wasted time subjugating myself.
In the end though, it caused me to become a more tolerant person – that is when I’m not in a full fledged manic episode where everything pisses me off.
It is sad though to realize how many years I wasted on being a lesser version of myself.
Well, that time is past. I am speaking my mind now, even before the AHAH moment from today. I’m gradually getting back to who I was always meant to be.
The impact someone’s suicide can have on you can be years in the making. It’s an event that stays with you for the rest of your life.
I wish that people who found themselves in the depths of despair would take a moment to consider the impact their action will have on those they will leave behind and what it may do to their lives. The depths of despair make thinking difficult – I know, I’ve been there and attempted it several times myself and I didn’t stop to think about what it would do to the people I left behind – and for that I am ashamed of my actions regarding this.
In remembering the man I once loved, he was such a vibrant man, full of life, and joy, and laughter when we were together. He had a lot of hidden dimensions and I was too young to figure it all out. And then he was gone.
I can let go of that now – I thought I had, but today’s realization made me aware of the fact that there were still residual effects from a traumatic event that happened a long time ago.
This and That 
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