I spent the night sleeping on the floor of my twelve-year-old son's bedroom last night. I was on "suicide watch".
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| a few days ago |
Right before bedtime, he called me back into his room. He was angry and upset at the same time. He was gathering information.
"Is there an easier way?" he asked. "Before I pull this thing out, is there a way they would listen to me and have a surgery to take it out?"
He was talking about the PD Catheter (Peritoneal Dialysis) that has been surgically in place for over 900 days now. It's been too long. It was a long journey even before that was put in to give him the "freedom" to be home for dialysis, and the freedom to have a better "quality" of life.
I had just left his room frustrated myself. I did not want to be around him any longer, and I was looking forward to selfishly escaping to my own room to look at the news, or social media, and catch up with what is happening in everyone else's lives.
The previous few hours had been filled with his constant complaining, whining, yelling at the dog to get out of the kitchen, lying, pestering for more tv, or audio dramas, or anything to keep his mind numb and busy. I had enforced just a few hours of quiet "noise". He was so upset and told me his mind was going crazy, and he needed to listen or watch something. I pushed back thinking, "He must be truly addicted to screens, and it is my job to help him realize he will survive not having constant entertainment".
As he pestered me, and continued to push for more leverage, I had raised my voice as loud as I could, without literally screaming, and sternly looked him in the face telling him it was "Enough!". I read his face as final submission, only because he knew to be afraid of me losing my temper.
Never did it cross my mind that he was using the technology as his coping mechanism, as his drug to numb the pain. Never did I have the inkling to ask deeper questions about why he was so out of control. I concluded that I have done a bad job as his mother raising him to this point, and I resolved that I would find the James Dobson book, with that behavior chart system, and tomorrow I would make sure to set everything aside and try yet another parenting strategy. I would do more and expect more from him.
Even if I had asked deeper questions, about the source of his mental chaos, most likely he would not have known. I did not let him turn on his nighttime audiobook, and I did not stay to scratch his back or read to him; instead, I had left exasperated and short-tempered. It wasn't until there was silence that he called me back in, and the hard questions started to come out, from him!
I sat on the floor and was fully present with him not having the answers to his questions.
"If God cares about me, then why isn't he taking responsibility to take care of me?"
"If I had a doll that I cared about, I wouldn't leave it to the side to be broken and not taken care of."
"I want to enjoy my life, otherwise, I don't want to live."
"I would rather it be short and enjoy it than long and be miserable."
I tried to encourage him in so many ways with validating his feelings at the top of my list. I didn't have the answers, and I still don't.
This
is not the first time he has presented suicidal wishes with me. These started
when he was about 7-8 years old. This door has already been opened in his mind
for years, and while I thought he was past the torturous temptations, the
thoughts and possibilities keep coming back up every so often.
When I asked what his plan was, he told me in the most logical way how he was going to open his second floor window and rig things so he would jump out of it and it would pull his cord out.
I tried to cautiously explain to him the additional problems that could come with jumping out of the window. He believed he was invincible and said he just wanted to find out if there was an easier way to get it out, because clearly he was aware that this would be drastic and painful.
When he said these words, it brought back chilling memories for me and told me I needed to pay attention to keep him safe.
"I just need to find the courage and once I make the decision it will already be done."
***
It reminded me of the many times through junior high and high school that I had said the same thing to myself. "If I just count to three and do it on three then it will be over."
I was in junior high school, barely older than he is now, when I went into my parent's room after school, pulled out the handgun that was in their waterbed drawer, held it to my head and counted, "1.... 2...." and before I got to three heard the Lord say,
"If I wanted you dead, I could have let you die years ago when you were a baby."
I put down the gun and sobbed. I knew my adoption story and His words made sense to me. I also knew I was in so much emotional pain, and I couldn't see a way out.
Suicidal thoughts continued and grew into patterns of my thinking, patterns of how I saw the world, what I thought people thought of me, and into multiple attempts to end my life.
No counselor, no mental health hospital, no person could take away that pain and help me want to live. I suffered with a rare skin disease, was in an abusive adoptive and broken home, and had probably very normal hormone and teenage issues happening simultaneously - but without a lifeline of any friends or adults who I believe cared or were rooting for my success. I knew of God, but I didn't know God. I knew I was a sinner, but I didn't understand there was always a remedy for those sins.
When I was seventeen and my world had fallen apart even more, I was on a suicide mission when I reached out to find my birthmother. I wanted to know why she didn't love me. Maybe that could help me understand why all the previous families did not love me enough to keep me either.
When I found my great-grandmother and she told me she had prayed for me my whole life, I felt significant and carried by the grace of God.
When I found my birthmother, and she was overwhelmed with joy that I had found her, and her other children knew and treated me like I had been a part of their family (their long lost sister) their whole lives, it brought significance to who I was.
When I found love, joy, and peace in the presence of God, who rescued me and transported me to a new environment to learn and grow, it gave me assurance that my life was not my own and that I had work to do here on earth and He would be my strength and guide.
When I experienced the joys of the freedoms of adulthood, the love of a spouse, the power in unity with your best friend, the miracles of birthing children, the sweet moments of sunrises and sunsets, interactions with nature, and so many things that bring pleasure, I have countless things to remember in the hard times - that haven't seemed to stop similar tears from when I was a child.
However, I no longer believe those suicidal temptations and thoughts. They still come around sometimes, but I have weapons to cast them down -to not believe their lies.
I know who I am in Christ and I believe it.
I know God has not left or forsaken me and I believe it.
I have enough victories to know that no matter what horrible thing happens next, it cannot erase what I already know happened and is true.
But, how do I give that confidence and hope to my child? I can scream from the mountaintops and bombard him with my stories, but until he chooses to believe them, to believe he is loved by God, to believe God is love, to believe he has access to Kingdom weapons to defeat the enemies of our bodies, souls, and spirits.... I cannot make him want to live.
I can fight for him, walk with him, and love him despite his pushback and sin.
***
I called in his older sisters into the room, and I was very open and honest about what he was talking about with them. While I felt hesitant about that move, I knew the issue needed to be brought out of the dark and into the light to lose its power over him (and myself). I also needed them to be another set of ears and eyes in the house so we can all team around him to keep him safe (and alive).
We all sat there encouraging him and discussing this very difficult topic openly for over an hour. I wish I could have recorded the beautiful things my teenage daughters offered as helpful advice during that time. I was surprised he listened... to it all. He looked like he was pretending to be asleep - but occasionally would move positions, so we knew he was awake. It brought a calm to the situation for sure.
I remembered this morning that I wrote a research paper on Euthanasia when I was in high school. I wish I knew if I had a copy of that so I can see how my views may have changed. To watch your own child go through chronic illness and to come to his own conclusion that he wants the right to choose whether he lives or dies puts my previous views on any research on these topics in a whole new perspective.
I remember seeing the PEOPLE magazine article years ago about the young wife who was getting to be one of the first to choose to take a pill to end her life in an effort to avoid the consequences of her brain tumor. I felt great empathy for that couple as I read their story. It was painful, but I still had the strong conviction and belief that it was a selfish decision and that they were playing God which was a form of pride (and we all know God opposes the proud).
Now - I am not sure where I stand on the issue. I see both sides of the discussion.
If you have read this far, will you fight with me in prayer?
Will you declare victory over his life, over his soul and spirit? That he would have a revelation overcome him that he, like me, is overwhelmed by the presence of the love of God and the hope and joy that comes with it.
I don't intend to ever concede my belief that God is good, that His will is for his children to walk in divine health and prosperity while on this earth (if that's what they desire and are working their faith for), and that He is with us leading and guiding us into all truth - and that truth sets us free from the curse of sickness, disease, poverty, and lack. But, I also don't know why it seems some victories occur quickly, others take years, and others are not manifested until after we get to heaven.
I believe the trick of the devil, our adversary, is to discourage us and deter us from the belief that God is good and that He does love and take care of His children. To distort our thinking that if things do not go our way, that it equates to a dysfunction in our God instead of challenging us to redefine our tolerance level to life's hardships and searching for contentment and leverage in all circumstances, because we know (without a doubt) we are in the righteousness of God. (Then again, that confidence comes when one knows they are proactively doing the things God has instructed them to do to keep them in that state.) How to get a rebellious and intellectually smart child to understand these concepts to the point that he can choose the next right steps and thoughts to overcome the attacks of the enemy - especially when his entire life has been filled with so much trauma (his parent's separations, his dad's injury, his siblings diagnosis, his diagnosis half his life ago, etc)?
There is a spirit of depression, of hopelessness, and it's not just in our home. It's affecting so many.
Will you also pray that God will show you how you can notice the people in your circle who may be trapped in self-defeating thought patterns and what you can do to fight for them, walk with them, and love them despite their pushback and sin?
By all means - please do me a favor - when you notice someone is telling you their struggles - DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO NOT think (or say) you are unqualified to help them! They have chosen YOU to talk with - to open up and share their heart and their hurts. Listen and ask what you can do to help - and then DO IT. Don't just say, "I'll pray for you" and/or "You need to get a counselor." Write their name down on your calendar, or set an alarm, to check back with them (and pray for them). Even if you refer them to a counselor - STILL stay present to help them find one, schedule the appointment, follow up on their plan, etc. And always point them to the Word and to Jesus. Help them stay accountable to that daily practice if they welcome accountability. He is the best counselor of all!
People are falling through the cracks people! I personally have many many times. When you are falling down, and you can barely call out for help, you need the person who hears your cry to stop and help - not refer you to get yourself up and go find someone to help you stop falling.
Suicide hotlines and Church Prayer Lines are one resource BUT I can tell you they are NOTHING compared to the love of a friend or family member who truly sees and cares about you.
One of my life quotes is that "people need love the most when they deserve it the least".
I hope I remember that more than I remember my role as a parent. Yes, my son needs so much correction and heart redirection (and I covet prayers for direction and wisdom in that), but I am full circle in realizing above correction, he needs love. He needs the love of God in every way - and I am the person in his life who needs to model that the most.
There's more that needs to be said and worked through, and this post most likely needs tons of editing - but I need to go for now.
May it bless you and please know you are unique, significant, and loved!
~Rachelle Suzanne
Note: I intended to write this blog about whether or not kids should have the right to choose their medical treatment - to be allowed to give up the medical fight and just let their bodies do what they are going to do - but all this other came out... I gotta start my day and so am going to just publish this as is. Super vulnerable, but maybe it will help someone.
Please reach out to me if you are struggling with suicidal thoughts and need a lifeline.
Don't ever believe you are alone.
Reach out.
I will listen and do whatever I can to help - if you welcome it. ;)
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