Strbellysneetch’s Weblog

Over the past weekend participated in the Out of The Darkness Walk to raise money for suicide prevention. I regret not joining her but I was to have had other plans this weekend that actually didn’t happen at the last minute. I didn’t even think for a second that I could have met her on the way and walked with her a bit. Next time…that is if I’m not walking myself. Here’s what she had to say:

Breaking our Junuary streak of cold weather, the overnight walk on June 21^st and 22^nd had the best weather possible for an overnight walk, and the rainstorm they predicted, never arrived.  Between the Overnight in Seattle and NYC, the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention has raised more than $1.7 million, enough money to fund many prevention and awareness and support services for survivors.  They are even opening a chapter in Puget Sound.

I walked with at least 1,000 other walkers all around Seattle on a picturesque day. Jean, Margie, and Leslie (Jen’s family members) joined me for opening ceremonies, which left barely a dry eye at the Mural Amphitheatre at the Seattle Center as a woman told a story of losing her son and then her brother. (One of the things I’ve learned about suicide, is that it has the opposite effect you would think it would.  Instead of dissuading you from committing suicide if you are thinking about it as you see the way it hurts all of the loved ones who survived you, there is something about a completed suicide that makes a person who was seriously thinking about it more likely to complete a suicide.  The theory is that it makes something that seemed impossible no longer impossible).

  We started out going down second in Belltown, then we went down to the Piers (near the aquarium).  Margie, Jean and Leslie cheered me on from this location.  Then went through the Sculpture Garden, and passed a small rose garden I had never seen before. We crossed the bridge, walked up Elliot for a while and then walked along Westlake to Freemont. 

During this trek I had one of many conversations with other walkers.  This one was particularly poignant for me because she was also walking because she had lost her best friend.   It was nice to share that bonding moment over the loss of the people you love.  She also mentioned that in six years it’s been since she lost her friend, she has noticed a remarkable change in our society’s willingness to talk about suicide, which will hopefully mean that more people will be able to seek out and find support when they most need it. 

In Freemont, Nancy joined me and kept me company for a couple miles.  Colleen and Shannon also met me in Freemont for a little love and support, and a T-Shirt.  Not that I was cold, but backpack strap was cutting my arm and the t-shirt was my protection.  We  walked down the Burke-Gillman Trail to Husky Stadium, where Jean and Margie joined me for a little rest and a midnight snack.  This is also where I learned that the walk was going to be 2.5 miles shorter than expected, something I was perfectly fine with.  After the midnight snack, I found Eve, a co-worker from my other life at BB&L.  Eve lost her brother to suicide in August.   Eve, her sister and a co-worker of Eve’s walked the remaining 5.5 miles together talking about the people we miss and the impact their deaths have had on our lives. 

I arrived back at the Seattle Center at about 2:30 AM with all the bags people had made illuminating our path.  Instead of lingering for three hours for the opening ceremony, Jean Margie and I got together for a late night snack, remembering that Seattle is a small city, because very little is open past 3:00 AM.  But after a trip to Capital Hill and learning that the Broadway Grill is no longer open till 4:00, we headed to Hurricane which is open 24 hours.  We lingered talking about Jen, doing what is irresistible after the loss of someone to suicide, revisiting the details of her life we knew about, trying to understand why someone as amazing as Jen could ever take her own life.   The reality is that for those of us who don’t suffer from depression or other mental illnesses, I don’t think we will ever be able to understand the depths of despair that can cause someone to take such a fatal step.  But what we do know is that Jen was an amazing person, daughter, and to me a model of what a good friend is that I will hope to emulate.  She was reliable, dependable, compassionate, and fabulously sarcastic (in the good, don’t take yourself or life too seriously sort of way).   

Speaking of fabulous friends and support, thank you.  Thank you to all of you who gave money, your quick and excessive generosity made it so I did not have to worry for a moment about meeting the minimum amount.  Together we raised more than $1,600 in Jen’s name.  Thank you also for your love and support and last minute tips.  I learned that suicide has unfortunately touched the lives of more of my friends than I realized.  A special thanks to Karen Clevering, my marathon running, triathlon competing rockstar friend, on Friday before the walk we were studying for that stupid bar exam, and took an especially fortuitous study break where she answered all the questions I didn’t even realize I had.  With some spaghetti and other carbs, and being pre-hydrated, the only discomfort I have from the walk is my feet are a little sore, my right hip hurts (and yes I do feel like I’m seventy by complaining about my hip), and I have a little cut on my right arm from my backpack strap.  All-in-all I’d say I feel pretty darn good.  
 

           Since part of the purpose of the fundraiser is about awareness raising, I’m closing with some statistics from the AFSP about suicide.  Here’s to hoping that the awareness campaign and support services work, so that if you, or a loved one is ever thinking about suicide that you will be able to reach out and get support and as they walk say, Walk Out of the Darkness.

 

Much love,

Jill

P.S. Sorry for a mass email instead of letters but I don’t have most people’s physical address, I have to get back to studying for the bar as I have three practice tests tomorrow, and, there were several amazing generous anonymous donations, so this may be the only way I can thank them for their support.

 P.P.S. Jean - I hope you’ll forward this to all your family and friends who donated. 

 

General

• Over 32,000 people in the United States die by suicide every year.
• In 2005 (latest available data), there were 32,637 reported suicide deaths.
• Suicide is fourth leading cause of death for adults between the ages of 18 and 65 years in the U.S., with approximately 26,500 suicides.
• Currently, suicide is the 11th leading cause of death in the United States.
• A person dies by suicide about every 16 minutes in the United States. An attempt is estimated to be made once every minute.
• Ninety percent of all people who die by suicide have a diagnosable psychiatric disorder at the time of their death.
• There are four male suicides for every female suicide, but twice as many females as males attempt suicide.
• Every day, approximately 80 Americans take their own life, and 1,500 more attempt to do so.

Depression

• Over 60 percent of all people who die by suicide suffer from major depression. If one includes alcoholics who are depressed, this figure rises to over 75 percent.
• Depression affects nearly 10 percent of Americans ages 18 and over in a given year, or more than 19 million people.
• More Americans suffer from depression than coronary heart disease (12 million), cancer (10 million) and HIV/AIDS (1 million).
• About 15 percent of the population will suffer from clinical depression at some time during their lifetime. Thirty percent of all clinically depressed patients attempt suicide; half of them ultimately die by suicide.
• Depression is among the most treatable of psychiatric illnesses. Between 80 percent and 90 percent of people with depression respond positively to treatment, and almost all patients gain some relief from their symptoms. But first, depression has to be recognized.

Studies indicate that the best way to prevent suicide is through the early recognition and treatment of depression and other psychiatric illnesses.

 

Even though it was yesterday.

All day I had been feeling reticent about going to the birthday dinner that everyone had planned. The little scared “I-don’t-want-to-deal-with-the-hard-stuff” person in me contemplated not going at all at the last minute but even though you’re not here anymore it would have felt a little like I was ditching out on you; and even though we joked about that when you were here, you’re not here anymore and that’s just not acceptable or funny.

As I was sitting there, I listened a lot and I thought a lot. I thought about the last time I saw you at dinner on Capitol Hill with Jake and how I got lost (like always) looking for the restaurant and had to call you. I haven’t eaten Indian food since, and by the way I still owe you the money that I borrowed that evening. I didn’t get much of a chance to pay you back; as it turns out it was the last time I ever talked to you. I’m glad I gave you a hug, but I wish that I would have told you that I loved you.

I thought about going to your townhouse for dinner after you bought it, not long before the Indian food evening. I thought about our conversation regarding our current relationships, and how after dinner it was nice to just sit with you and watch Iron Chef while you went on and on about how attractive one of the girls on the show was. I remembered not wanting to leave that night because it felt so good to spend time with you-it reminded me of being 12 years old again, playing video games at your house after adventuring on our bikes to here or there.

I thought about getting you all brided up for your wedding day, and how scared you told me you were just before it was all supposed to start. I remembered feeling like an inadequate maid of honor at calming your fears, seeing as how I had never really even been close to being married before; but I remembered as well how proud I was to stand up there with you once the ceremony started.

I thought about feeling guilty about not calling your family since it all happened, especially when Jill talked about how she has been calling and spending time with them. I thought about the fact that since your wedding day I hadn’t actually talked to your mom until your funeral when during a tear-streaked hug she told me that you loved me so much, but I was hurting so bad, and so entrenched in a crazy imaginary world where you were still alive that I couldn’t manage any words to respond with. I listened to Jill talk about how poorly your brother is doing since you have been gone and that hurt too because I know it would have hurt you to the core.   

I thought about how you always made me laugh regardless of what was going on in my life; that was the easiest to remember because that talent to engage people came from one of the many wonderful bright spots in your heart. As I sat there listening to the general conversation about who was working where or engaged to whom now I saw you in every single one of us, in all of our differences that you loved. There are no words to express the gratitude I felt at being able to see that; but there are also no words to express how much it hurt to see it. A friend told me that you must be special for so many people to make a point of getting together on your birthday after you’re gone; he was right. As an aside, as much as you might have enjoyed seeing Emily’s new baby (despite our shared avoidance of babies in general), you also would have gotten a laugh at Kay and I taking bets about who, out of those that wanted to hold him, would get thrown up on first.

Most of all I thought about how much I miss you like hell. I also realized that it’s time to let go of the selfish guilt at my perceived inability to have seen that something was so wrong; it wasn’t about anyone else but how you felt and what you wanted, and you didn’t want anyone to help. It might take me forever and a day to let go of that but eventually I will.

Happy Birthday.

1. After tomorrow I will most likely officially be the apartment manager where I am living which means free rent, plus extra money every month. It couldn’t have come at a better time financially. It really is true that some things work out the way they are supposed to at just the right time. Ideally I will catch myself up as far as money goes and hopefully in the future be able to work part time in order to make it easier to continue school after my BA. Amazing.
2. I am quickly becoming head over heels. And I love every single minute of it because it is decidedly unique from any other time I have started to feel this way.
3. My laptop is stupid. I need a new one; or maybe I just need more memory.
4. Lucy is cute.
5. Jenny’s birthday is on May 5th. I miss her. A lot.
6. My Colin will be moving here sometime this week. I’ve missed him too.
7. It’s interesting how many lies are uncovered after someone is gone. In recent conversations with family I’ve learned that more and more dishonesty on the part of my former stepdad has become apparent. Am I surprised or shocked? No. Do I have a strong desire to hunt down and tear up every single father’s day card I ever gave him? Yes. This too will eventually pass though.

About one thing. How do I know when I have fully ‘dealt with’ something?

Jen’s birthday is coming up on May 5th and the other day I received an email from a mutual friend about possibly getting together around that time for the purpose of remembering and talking. Included in the email was a link to the upcoming Suicide Prevention Walk and the suggestion to check it out if we hadn’t already.

I have already checked out the link to the walk courtesy of my sister; she sent me the link and suggestion a few weeks ago and I have been carefully thinking about it ever since. Would it hurt too much? Would it be something that might assist in the ‘healing process’?  I don’t have the answer to that quite yet.

As my Aimee so appropriately summed recently grief does not have a schedule. Most often, it comes at the most inopportune times. When I am on my way to work and I see the scooter dealership on Denny, without fail I think about her. When I am reminded of a private joke that we shared I want to call her up and laugh about it. When an occasion comes up that she would have been a part of I think about her.

I’m beginning to think that maybe there is never a point where something is completely “dealt with”. Life keeps calling it up and maybe that’s a good thing so that you are consistently reminded of the pieces of someone that you loved; I don’t know.

I worry that at this point however, I may not have dealt with it as much as I should have. 

Usually when I’m walking Sadie girl she is pulling the hell out of the leash (she has done this the entirety of the time I’ve had her, since she was 5 months old-training collars did nothing to correct it), and therefore on my arm as well. I am routinely moving at a slower pace than she is-cause I’m lazy. It’s not necessarily that way anymore, though.

The official name for what she has is immune-mediated thrombocytopenia. Essentially that is a really long complicated name for what actually happens, which is that her immune system attacks her own little body. It has actually been active for several years. Unfortunately it wasn’t until I moved to downtown Seattle and began taking her to the Ballard Animal Hospital that someone with a brain diagnosed it correctly. Prior to that I was taking her to Lynnwood where they had no explanation as to what was going on with her but made it seem as if it wasn’t that serious. A-holes.

Ballard got it under control with prednisone, and eventually because her platelets rose to a normal level (they began horribly low which caused her to bleed internally), she was actually off the prednisone for a while and did fine. This last time that she relapsed with it again seemed to be much worse, because that time she ended up with all these horrible bruises on her tummy as well as bleeding gums. Scary. Once again, she was prescribed prednisone and has been on it ever since. Thing is, this time is a little different from the first. When we were walking today I almost had to drag her down the street…she just didn’t want to move hardly at all. I noticed the past couple of days that she is unsteady on her feet, her hind legs want to give out on her, and her balance isn’t so great anymore.

The following are some common side effects of predisone:

• vision problems
• eye pain, redness, or tearing
• sore throat, fever, chills, cough, or other signs of infection
• seizures
• depression
• loss of contact with reality
• confusion
• muscle twitching or tightening
• shaking of the hands that you cannot control
• numbness, burning, or tingling in the face, arms, legs, feet, or hands
• upset stomach
• vomiting
• lightheadedness
• irregular heartbeat
• sudden weight gain
• shortness of breath, especially during the night
• dry, hacking cough
• swelling or pain in the stomach
• swelling of the eyes, face, lips, tongue, throat, arms, hands, feet, ankles, or lower legs
• difficulty breathing or swallowing
• rash
• hives
• itching

Not only do I worry about what she is experiencing as side effects that I can’t know of, she is actually losing weight no matter what I do. I’m feeding her at least three times what she should be eating in a day, but she just keeps getting more bony and ‘old-looking’.

Today really upset me. It was like looking down a really crummy awful tunnel that doesn’t actually have a light at the end. I realize that regardless of whether an animal is ill or not, they will eventually pass because their life spans are much shorter than ours. Universe willing, we will outlive them. This is part of what one signs on for when taking on the responsibility of a pet. My mom said during a conversation not so long ago that most people (not all, because I think that some people just don’t have time for the commitment and realize that…and well, some people just don’t like animals) who avoid owning an animal are probably chicken, and possibly not strong enough to love an animal knowing they are likely to lose it at some point. I agreed with her…I believe that to be true as well. It takes a lot to care for a being that long knowing that at some point there is a high probability that we will have to let them go rather than the other way around. The average life span for a labrador is 10-13 years…she’s seven already, plus she has some serious health issues and I’m beginning to doubt how ’under control’ they are.

She was the first dog that looked at me as her primary relationship; prior to that the dogs that we had as a family were ‘family dogs’, not necessarily my relationship alone. I had to visit PAWS three times in order to adopt her because people kept putting holds on her and then deciding they didn’t want her. On the final visit, the front office snitched on my application and claimed to have talked to my landlord, even though they hadn’t because they wanted her to go home with someone so badly (all I had was a copy of a lease that had pet rules in it, so that I could at least show that pets were allowed in the building-it wasn’t even my lease, it was my neighbors because I was irresponsible and had lost the copy of mine).

We’ve been through a lot together, and I do realize that she is not gone yet…the problem is that I seriously wonder how long her body can put up with all of this, especially in consideration of what I’m noticing lately. I said to myself a long time ago that my boundary regarding how long I keep her here in conflict with natural events/health would be drawn when she couldn’t play/walk/run because I know that if she couldn’t do these things anymore she would just be unhappy as all get out.

I’m worried that this boundary is coming more quickly than I can be prepared for it.