Journey
The journey through grief is a windy road. The twists and turns continue throughout our lives. When the loss is new, the pain is excruciating.
I remember standing outside and looking up at the sky and pleading for Adam to come back… pleading for him to reveal himself. Where did he go? I saw him in the eagles soaring, the rabbits, the reflection of sunlight on the water. Every drop of nature reflected Adam to me. The air seemed to form tiny crystals and I saw him in them. I felt the breeze like his breath. I believed in all of these manifestations and they comforted me.
The pain eased. It now comes in the form of a wave… unexpected reminders that stir the embers. Sometimes a rogue wave will hit me and I call out to him. The shower is a great place for this… the sound of my cry disguised by the running water. Emerging to blow dry and dress… tears washed away for the moment.
The worst part of grief as the years pass is the missing. Missing his voice, his skin, his laughter and all of the traits that were uniquely Adam’s.
I am dredging today – because tomorrow I walk for suicide prevention and I am remembering. I will see the sorrow on the faces of the other survivors and they will see mine. I will remember Adam. My beautiful son, who left this earth too soon.
A Note to Marie Osmond
Dear Marie,
I am so sorry to hear of the passing of your beautiful son, Michael. I can see what a dedicated and supportive woman you are, and what a wonderful mother. It’s such a shock and so painful.
I am writing because I have walked in your shoes. My beautiful son, Adam, took his own life on Jan. 11, 2008. He also left a note. He also was beautiful and well loved.
I am not writing to explain anything, because it is truly the unthinkable. But I am writing to say that I have found some comfort as time has gone on. I thought it would kill me. But it hasn’t. I have learned to listen for Adam’s voice. I refuse to say goodbye to him. I do believe that the spirit survives death, and although there are huge mysteries … all religions point to the survival of the spirit. I miss my Adam’s skin, but I still have his heart.
I hope you will find some comfort as you travel this very difficult road. I want you to know, that if you ever want to talk, as one mother to another, I am here for you. I will pray for you and your family.
Marie, just one more thing… don’t let your thoughts gravitate to the place where you take any blame for this. That is grief’s darkest road, and you will get lost on it. I know you did your best as a mom… and you know it… and Michael knows it too. Don’t punish yourself. That’s a dark tunnel – which doesn’t lead to anything good. Just remember how much you love him. And anyone could see that you do. I don’t mean to give you advice… I just know these few things about suicide, grief and recovery.
God bless you, Marie. And God bless Michael.
Love,
Bobbie Marquis
www.nomoresuicides.com
What Caused Adam’s Suicide?
Suicide is permanent. Yet it often occurs in a moment or moments of a temporary crisis. Someone once said that suicide occurs when someone’s pain exceeds their resources for coping with pain. During those moments when Adam contemplated suicide as a solution, his internal resources were depleted.
Maybe it seems trivial to talk about lack of sleep. But three days without sleep can bring on hallucinations and delusions. Combine lack of sleep with ritalin. And too much Ritalin at that, and you now have a medically documented suicide risk. An overdose or a sudden crash on Ritalin has been known to cause suicidal thoughts. Combine that with a glass or two of alcohol, and you have a lethal soup.
The scarey aspect of Adam’s suicide is that he was a happy person, a successful student, well liked, well loved, and had dreams and aspirations. Suicide is the 3rd leading cause of death among young people: ages 20-24, and young men are six times more likely to commit suicide than young women.
Why is that? Is it the reckless behavior that is often natural in young men? Is it the fact that they do not always confide and seek emotional support when they are grappling with an emotional crisis?
At the moment when Adam took that final action, he had no resources to cope with the pain he was in. But why was he in so much pain? We will never really know for sure, but I have my answer… and I will always believe that the combination of lack of sleep, Ritalin and alcohol created a toxic ideation and killed my son.
Why Did It Happen?
When someone asks how Adam died, I say that he took his own life.
Adam at 9 months
The silence that follows is loaded. The person is often thinking about the ‘why’ and the ‘how.’ As for the “how” – what difference does it really make. Death is never pretty. And it is our morbid curiosity that wants the details. But the ‘why.’ This is what we must ask ourselves. How else can we learn, and help to prevent it from happening again. From the first day that this tragedy occurred, I have tried to understand the reasons.
There are many layers to the answer. There is the immediate time in which his suicide took place. There are the days leading up to his suicide, and there is his entire life.
This post may take me a while to complete… because as I undertake it, I realize how difficult it is. I’ll continue this thread later.
Looking Back
Adam, his brother Andre and I summer of 2005
When “live journal” first became a part of Adam’s life, I was in awe at how he ripped himself open for all the world to see. As I begin the task of opening up here, I realize that which was a torrent for him, is coming in droplets for me.
I notice that I now often live my life looking backwards. Before Adam died, I was suffering from an empty nest syndrome. As much as the experience of raising two sons was all-consuming and daunting at times, it was full of energy and drama. I missed the raw energy. I even googled, “empty nest” and “regret.” Not surprisingly there were many entries. I found comfort knowing that the two go hand in hand and that it wasn’t just my poor adjustment.
With Adam’s suicide, the regret is even more painful. I can’t help but see all of the moments when I was asleep. Moments I missed.
However, I do feel blessed that Adam and I had a very deep friendship. I would have said we were confidants – although he did not let me in to the deepest part of himself at the end. We often reflected on how much we enjoyed one another. I consider that a gift. I’m so grateful that he was such a demonstrative person. With Adam, there was no room for doubt about where he stood. If he loved you, you knew it.
I thank him for that.
