If you’ve ever read my “100 FAQs“, you’ll know that I mention that my mother committed suicide.  Mom’s parents, my grandparents, went to their graves believing it was an accident.  I don’t disagree, to a point.  As far as I remember, the official death certificate said that she died of alcohol and drug poisoning, exacerbated by an epileptic seizure.  I never knew my mom had epilepsy – still don’t have a universal agreement of that from her family, either.

What I do know is that my mother was mentally ill, and her psychiatrist prescribed Antabuse as a way to help her stay away from alcohol.   This drug is supposed to make you sick (vomiting, upset stomach) if you drink alcohol on top of taking the medicine.  

Now, my mother had been in and out of both psychiatric hospitals as well as alcohol treatment centers most of my life.  We knew she had regular bouts of “sickness” and we were rarely left home alone with her.  My dad (and whomever he could find in the family to help him) was basically the one to raise us, after we were beyond the baby-stage of life.  But, Dad worked full time, so it was up to us to find our own fun.  Mom definitely loved her babies.  It’s been said to me that she liked her children until they got to the talking stage, and then she was ready for another baby.  Unfortunately, our last baby brother died of SIDS when he was 3 months old, and the rest of my childhood was lost as Mom spiraled in and out of herself.  Within a few short years, Mom had to have a hysterectomy and was unable to bear anymore children.  This is when her life spiraled even more out of control, because this is when she was introduced to prescription painkillers. 

Our mother abandoned us a year before she died, so she saved us from finding her dead.  As I understand everyone (and I’ve talked to nearly every family member I can find about this), Mom was living in an apartment with a married man.  He had gone home for the weekend to see his own family and left her alone.  Mom definitely had issues with being alone, especially after my dad died.  She was taking the Antabuse and then began drinking on top of it – and she drank so much, so fast, that it killed her.  Whether she had an epileptic seizure or not is not something factored in, when I’m thinking of the way her life ended – the amount of alcohol consumed in such a short period of time was enough to kill her, whether she had a seizure or not.

I bring all of this up because a loved one recently told me she attempted suicide a few months ago.  And it totally threw me for a loop this week.  She didn’t succeed, thankfully!  But, she did agree that God wasn’t ready for her yet – and that perhaps me needing her in my life was the reason for that.  That sure makes me feel loved, even if the process of her getting to me (she is not biologically related to me) was through her darkness and into the light.  She’s on the road to recovery, making changes in her life, and hoping to visit us this year. 

I don’t know what I’d do if someone I loved chose to end their life.  That’s a tough one for me, especially because of the scars that were left by my mother.  But, I do know that there IS help, and hope – even if you don’t know it at the time.