It’s been an interesting week where I’ve become aware that a so-called friend was bullying me. She could be very subtle at times, and then really in your face.
The subject of suicide arose — and I believe she was the one who instigated it. Having had no close experience with suicide, her comments came from ignorance and an all-powerful — mistaken — belief that she was qualified to coach on the subject. Part of this was to tell me that I needed to accept that suicide was part of Kelly’s journey. To remain unattached. She went on to say that not all suicides come from mental illness. And also to step back from responsibility.
Gobsmacked! Totally speechless for a moment whilst I processed what had been said.
Yes I do accept that it was Kelly’s journey and I’ve accepted that years ago, however ultimately her journey became part of my journey simply because I am her mother. Our lives are intertwined, and I think it’s impossible to step back from the fact that she chose to suicide, leaving me, her family and friends simply devastated.
Do I think I was responsible for Kelly’s suicide ? Not at all, but as a mother there will always be that nagging feeling that perhaps I could have done more to help her. Could have, should have, would have. Useless words and feelings, because they can’t change anything now.
Perhaps Kelly was never destined for old age, to build more relationships, to marry, have children and I could go on. But she gave us two decades — so much love and joy. And I’ve learnt so much from her since her death.
I did a lot of soul searching after that conversation, and in the process went into a deep dark hole myself. Fortunately I have an awesome network to call on and I pulled myself out of that hole and decided to tackle the bully once and for all. For quite some time now I have felt intimidation and unworthiness when faced with some of her preaching. I realised that for me to move on in my life there was a great need to remove her from mine. So I started with writing letters to her — letters that I will never send — and wouldn’t want them to be read anyway. I poured all my frustration and anger out on the pages and immediately felt much better.
Then I sent a message to the bully severing all connection, I removed her number from my phone and blocked her on my Facebook page. Job done. I discovered that I don’t have to be ‘nice’ when people are rude to me.
Now I feel liberated, like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I’ve managed to stand up for myself and in doing so have freed up me to do it again should the need arise.
So even though I can accept that suicide was the end of her journey in this world, I still grieve for her and will do so for the rest of my life. But I can live my life and enjoy it despite the grief or maybe because of it.