Letting go was the beginning of finding myself in the chaos!
1. Describe the moment when you knew you had to tap into your inner courage and make changes in your life.
I am sitting in a diner watching my son out of the corner of my eye. I force myself not to stare at the fresh scar running chin to the forehead that will forever change the landscape of his face. The waitress is not so lucky. She asks to take our order, and when he looks up, she nearly jumps out of her skin. I don't know what she has seen, because the scar is not gruesome. But. I have wondered since then, did she see what was to come? Did she have a moment of clairvoyance? Because the way she jumped, it was more than the situation warranted. But, it certainly foreshadowed what would become the remainder of the day. It was at this diner, on this day, that I made a choice. Two hours earlier I had called my sister and prayed with her, because I knew if he asked to come home with me, that I would have to say "no." I prayed for the strength to tell my bruised and battered son that he could not live with us, and it nearly broke my heart.
2. Walk us through the pivotal moment when you decided to act courageously. What was going through your mind? How did you feel at that moment?
In that moment I wanted to wrap him in my arms. I wanted to bring him home, tuck him into the quilt my mother and I made when I was twelve, and then feed him chicken soup until he got better. This is what I wanted, but I knew I was drowning. Five years with seven trips to mental hospitals and me making the call every time. I couldn't do it anymore. I had to give him back to himself. He was 24. I could not keep him alive, he had to want it for himself.
3. What inspired or motivated you to take the courageous step you did? What were a few of the first steps you took? What major actions did you have to take?
This choice only makes sense in retrospect. In the moment it was counter-intuitive. How do you save someone by closing doors? How do you justify turning your own family away? It was contrary to everything I believed in. I did it a little bit at a time. I said "I don't think that would be a good idea." And then I said "I need to talk to dad." I never said "no" outright. But the intent was there. Although my words left room for a maybe, in my mind I was thinking "no way." Because the reality was, I had tried everything. And he was resolute in his self destructive behaviors.
4. Paint a picture of what your life was like before you encountered the challenge that called for you to summon your courage.
My life was ideal before this hard choice manifested. We had the perfect two kids and a cat in a quiet one acre lot at the end of a country lane. Our two sons were kicking along with great options, not straight A's, but close enough. Our oldest son was finishing his third year of mechanical engineering at the local University. He had already interned one summer with my husband at GE, and was set for another internship the upcoming month. Our younger son was a week from high school graduation with a bright future in veterinary science. We were all healthy, we got along, and my husband and I were rounding the bend towards an empty nest. We had counted our blessings, and we were grateful. We had no reason to feel scared or doubtful regarding the future.
5. Were there any doubts or fears you had to overcome before taking action? How did you manage them?
My doubts and fears prior to our son's psychosis were minimal. I remember now that I was overly worried about my weight, whether it was okay to play rock music really loud, and what my grandkids might be like. My fears seem so trivial to me now. Once you have been to hell and back, the things that scare you are fewer and far between. I did have a looming fear the day I said "no." That very real fear was the promise he made at the diner. He said, "If I can't come back to live with you, I don't see how I can live anymore. I don't know if I will be able to do it." I did not have a crystal ball, I did not have my family or my husband at that table with me. It was my call at that moment. I could sign up for more years or even a lifetime of co-dependency, or I could risk that he might get better on his own.
6. What were some of the challenges or obstacles you faced during your journey to overcome this particular challenge?
He did not get better. Seven hours later he lay dying on the garage floor. In that moment, in that horrible moment as I watched his fingers turn blue while I dialed 911, I had to ask myself - did I do this? Did I choose this path for him? Did I make the right choice? Did I kill my son by not taking him home with me? I had to navigate every minute of that day and find a small piece of sanity to hold onto. The illuminating truth that I was forced to accept was that I could not save him. He had to save himself. And in the wake of his choosing death, I had to choose life. As my body and my womb wanted nothing more than to die with him, I had to deliberately choose to live.
7. Tell us about a memorable anecdote or turning point in your courageous journey.
I don't have one particular anecdote or turning point. What I would say is that my healing journey was very gradual, but also very deliberate. I had to go back to teaching, and learn how to be around other people's children without falling apart. I had to learn how to love my remaining son in a new way, because my heart was wounded and afraid of losing more. I had to be cautious and focus on keeping my marriage afloat, the statistics of failed marriages after the death of a child are alarming. I knew we wanted to survive this together. I had to relearn how to love my partner while he was broken, and I was broken, all at the same time. It was a daily commitment to choosing wellness over despair. It was a process of one foot in front of the other. One day at a time. There was no particular moment, it was a billion moments and it took years of steadfast intentional living.
8. What role models or sources of support helped you stay strong and resilient?
I had many mentors, therapists and family wrapping me in their love. I was fortunate in this way, I did not walk this path alone. I can not single out one person over another, because so many people came to my aid and offered their strength when I faltered.
9. How did this experience impact your life and your perception of courage?
My perception of courage is forever altered because now I know that bravery doesn't feel brave when you are in it. I don't think we feel courageous when we make a choice. If anything, I believe we feel somewhat the opposite.
10. What lessons or wisdom have you gained from this experience that you'd like to share with others?
I have learned that we are more resilient than we realize. I didn't know prior to my son's death what I was made of, if I could survive a difficult path.
11. What unexpected or positive outcomes emerged from your courageous actions?
When I made the choice to give my son back to himself, I did not know I was being brave. I wanted him to find his own way. I refused to keep picking up the pieces. In that refusal I gained so much for myself. I had felt trapped, like I could not move forward or backward, I could only suck in my breath and hope he would make good choices. Letting go was the beginning of finding myself in all the chaos.
12. How do you define courage, and how has your definition evolved through your own experiences?
Courage is what we do when we have no other choice. It requires walking forward towards and through the difficulty.
13. Is there a particular message or advice you'd like to convey to other women who may be facing similar challenges?
When I tell the story of my son's suicide, most people say "I could never survive that" or "How are you still standing?" My answer to that is you don't know until you know. I believe that we show up for what is placed in our path. By this I mean to say, don't give up on yourself before you begin. We are made of stronger stuff than we realize.
14. In retrospect, do you have any regrets or things you would have done differently?
My regrets are a mile long. I can list everything I said or did that may have added to my son's ultimate demise. I can recall the conversations and moments of despair that could have been handled better. Of course I have regrets. I still wonder what would have happened if I had just brought him home with me. But, that is counter-productive. I won't ever know. I prayed before I saw him that morning and I felt an overwhelming peace right before I found him. How can I truly regret a choice that was never mine to make? I do not regret advocating for myself. I do regret the outcome, but not the decision.
15. How has this experience shaped your identity or sense of self?
I am softer around the edges. I question less and listen more. I am more reflective and curious and less apt to jump to conclusions. I have so much more compassion for every being. I know that we are here and then we are not. I also know that while we are here we are making choices. Everything is a choice. And not every choice is good or great or wrong or right, it simply is.
16. What would you say to someone who is hesitant or afraid to take a courageous step in their life?
I'm not sure how to help someone who feels hesitant. I guess I would say the same thing that I tell my students . . . "Just do the thing." Whatever it is. Be less analytical and more proactive. If the change needs to happen, do it. We are not meant to be stuck or trapped. We are meant to move forward. When you make a choice, know that the act of making a choice is courageous. You won't necessarily know it in the moment, and it might be years before you have confirmation. Being brave isn't the goal, but it is an inevitable outcome of living an authentic intentional life. Chances are that if you have lived, and had experiences, and had to make choices, you have already been brave.
