Adam Szychowski 2/19/84 – 1/11/08
This site is dedicated to suicide prevention. Adam Szychowski was my son. On January 11, 2008, he left this world at his own hand. Adam was deeply loved. He was a man of many talents. The circumstances of his death are the subject of another post on this site. I miss him, and will miss him forever.
Each year at this time, I relive the sorrow and the trauma of losing him. The sheriff’s visit to me in the middle of the night is the most traumatic moment of my life. It is my hope that by supporting the efforts of the brilliant researchers and educators at the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, we will find ways to prevent the tragic and unnecessary loss of those we love.
These are videos of Adam moving into his apartment at the University of Connecticut. It was a very happy day.
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.
