Creating Today by Marie Dudek

Peace, love and joy. How does anyone find them in their own life? All I can tell you is how my journey in life made me aware of each.

Six years ago, I would have told you it's not possible. I came home and opened the garage door to find my beautiful, 22-year old daughter hanged herself. For more than two years, Natalie struggled with a disease that ultimately took her life. She fought a valiant battle. As a mother, there's nothing worse than not being able to take away the pain your child is experiencing. And here I was, holding her head on my lap, stroking her hair, coming to the realization that I can't change this. As much as I may want to, there is nothing I can do to reverse this. There is no second chance.

As the mother of two, my children mean the world to me. From times spent together on the baseball diamond, to helping with schoolwork, to exploring new places together, we were a family. Certainly we had our moments. That's being human. Deep down in our bones, we each know the vast love for one another. A few months after Natalie's death, my son, Javair, and I were talking, no, arguing. The strain on our relationship was plainly palpable. In that moment I told him I see how this experience breaks families apart and that's not what I want for us. We sat quietly for some minutes. That's not what he wanted either.

Peace came to my daughter when her life ended. Peace came to me when I accepted my daughter's death. Peace comes to my family when we openly and honestly talk, remembering Natalie for who she was as a human being, not the circumstances surrounding her death. Peace is a daily practice.

At Natalie's wake, the line of people went outside and around the block. My family was concerned for me. I knew I needed to hug each and every individual that was there. I did just that. In the months afterward, I experimented with different classes on body awareness. From sitting meditation, to massage, to riding a stationary bike at the YMCA, I began taking exquisite care of me. One morning in a Feldenkrais class, as I stretched upward, I literally felt my entire heart open up to the world. I began noticing things newly and they were vibrant. At times along the walking trail, I felt at one with the universe. My community and everything surrounding me support me each and every day. Love is a daily practice.

Joy? How could I have joy in my life? I mean my daughter died. My daughter died by suicide. I couldn't imagine joy being in my life whatsoever. Guess what? It is here in my life. It's present in my daily activities because I choose joy. I never thought about that until a seminar leader brought it to the attention of the group. I listened intently. Having joy in my life is accepting what is and what is not. Embracing what it and what is not. And bravely moving forward. I am living that as I bring awareness to mental health conditions. I am living that as I recognize and acknowledge the greatness in others. Imagine a world where each and every human being is fully aware of the difference they make in the universe. Joy is a daily practice.

By Marie Dudek

Suicide Prevention Show - Interview with NoStigmas Founder, Jacob Moore

Six Reasons to Live by John Burgess

I recently read a statistic that said, on average, SIX or more people are deeply affected by each specific suicide. "Deeply affected" meaning the majority of them may never fully recover (That's not to mention the tens and hundreds of people each of us know.) These six people, multiplied by the over 1 million suicides each year in the world, means that over 6 million will probably spend the rest of their life wondering "why" they felt like they could no longer live this life, "how" they didn't recognize the warning signs and "when" will the pain ever go away?

The answer to that one is inevitably never. Sure, it might dull over time, but those six people will never again be the same person they were before a loved one committed suicide.

Let's pretend that you're the one contemplating suicide; think of who those six people would be to you. Maybe it's your mother or father, your brother or sister, boyfriend/girlfriend, best friend, classmate, teacher, coach, guidance counselor, or maybe somebody you haven't even had the chance to meet yet.

Fast forward to a year after your suicide. Picture your mother of father doing the routine grocery shopping It's a warm spring day and after months of therapy, they're finally beginning to feel like life isn't over. After getting all the groceries, your mom/dad is standing in the check out line waiting for their turn. Behind them is a young mother with a toddler who keeps insisting on running off. This toddler happens to have the same name as you. The young mother calls after her rambunctious child. Your parent's throat closes and their heart begins to race as that false hope returns that maybe, even for a split second, it would be you behind them instead of the little kid. Of course it isn't, you're dead. Now imagine the returning heartbreak your parent must be experiencing, as it once again hits them that you're truly gone.

What about your little brother/sister? It's their first day of junior high and the teachers all make them fill out the standard "About Me" questionnaires. Your sibling is breezing through them all, quickly scribbling down the same answers they've been using since first grade. That is, until they reach the question about siblings. Their eyes frantically dart around the room, wishing to make an emergency exit. What do they put? Do they write nothing and pretend like you never existed, or hope that there's enough space to explain how they once had an older brother/sister, but not anymore. What about when they grow up, and they have to explain to their children why they don't have an aunt/uncle?

Onto your best friend, the one you've grown up with since you were 4 years old. You thought she would be okay without you, but you were wrong. She keeps only to herself because nobody else could possibly understand what she's going through. Her other friends ignore her because they don't know what to say or act around her now. Imagine graduating from high school and your best friend is sitting in the middle of the crowd, hiding beneath her cap as she silently cries. The seat next to her is empty, and she knows who was supposed to be there; you.

Finally, the person you might not have met yet. "How will they be affected if I'm dead? They don't even know me. They won't know that I'm gone." You're right, they don't know you, and they won't feel your absence...yet. My father took his own life when I was 7 years old, in 1987. Each person with whom I share my father's story is touched. His death continues to affect thousands of people he never met... over 20 years later.

You see, with all these examples, all lives are connected. You can't just take one person out of the picture and expect life to carry on like nothing is wrong. No matter how minuscule you might feel in this world, you have touched infinite lives simply by existing. Whether you realize it or not, there are tons of people who care about you and whose happiness depends on YOU. Life may seem like more than you can handle sometimes, but you never know when it's going to turn around. Only time will tell, and in order to do that, you must allow yourself the gift of living.

In the meantime, there is ALWAYS help available, all you have to do is reach out for it. 1 in 5 Americans will suffer from depression in their lifetime, so don't ever think that you're alone. Above all else, you shouldn't be ashamed of asking for help. People care and want you to LIVE. Even if you don't feel like it's worth it, do it for those who love you. People kill themselves to get rid of the pain, but pain doesn't end with suicide. Suicide only intensifies the pain in the people that are left behind. I'd like to leave you with one of my favorite Reliant K lyrics; "Live your life for those that you love".

By John Burgess