I am amazed that one year can contain the highest highs and the lowest lows. This year, I lost my 16-year-old brother, Sam, dealt with the COVID-19 pandemic and all its frustrating repercussions, felt torn politically between friends and family on both sides of important issues, had COVID, bought our first house, and most importantly, my wife and I welcomed our sweet angel baby girl into the world! The general craziness of 2020 is miniscule compared to the pain of dealing with my brother’s suicide. In the wake of all those life-altering experiences, it's safe to say that healing has often been very difficult for my family and I. Still, with the help of my wife and adorable baby, I have frequently found myself overwhelmed by greater joy than I have ever before experienced.
So, today I wanted to write this post to address some main
reflections I’ve had this past year, including some things I’ve learned about myself, trauma,
mental illness, suicide prevention, and healing. As always, I hope the lessons I'll try to express can help increase our confidence, competence, and hope in facing the continual battle with mental illness and suicide in our world today.
The Umbrella
Man, that was a rough day at work… and Sam is gone. Ah, I’m
so frustrated with the hospital’s billing system… and Sam is gone. Or, I can’t
believe that person cut me off on the road… and Sam is gone. Dang, my headache has gotten worse throughout the day… and you get the point. I visualize an umbrella. It overshadows my view of everything else. It’s like a curse that accompanies any slightly negative thing in my
life. I don’t intend to be so pessimistic. Most days I am actually very happy. Plus, I have a cute baby that always cheers me up. But I want to be straight forward because the stigma about being open and vulnerable about mental health concerns is still too strong. We must be open in our society about the power of mental illness. So, I'll be forward. It’s
so hard to heal. My family hurts every day. We wish Sam were here so badly. Please, if you are struggling with depression or suicidal thoughts, please let
your families and friends be there for you. You might worry about being a burden to them. Trust me, they won't respond perfectly to your openness; none of us do. But I am very confident that your people
will feel so grateful that you opened up to them and gave them a chance to help. Please, there is help available. Don't let the fear of being a burden keep you from letting the countless who love you, really love you.
A Balance
It seems that for every awful thing that has happened this
year, my family has been blessed with healing and miracles to get us through. Many
of those miracles have come through the loving efforts of thoughtful, mortal angels that God has sent to us. And
while many of the blessings we have hoped for haven’t yet come, we continue to hold on to our faith and trust that the Lord, with His perfect understanding and empathy, is aware of our needs. For those who have been
our angels this year, you know who you are. There are too many to name here- but please know that every
prayer, every text, every meal, and every memory has helped us hold on desperately to the hope
that balances out despair. Thank you.
Trauma
After a few months of crying every few days, I thought I
had overcome the effects of trauma. I guess I was wrong. The last few months I’ve
felt a resurgence of flashbacks and feelings from that weekend that shock my
sense of stability and remind me that I still have a long way to go on my healing journey. I’ll
be honest, I have times when I’ll see or hear something that triggers my memory
and I’m right back on March 13th playing through it all over again: the screaming and mourning, total despair, feeling like my heart
was ripped out of my chest, and the torture of watching my family physically and emotionally crumble in pain. I understand that to fully heal, it’s necessary that my mind has
time to process these detailed memories in various stages of my life going forward. I know it will
take time. Still, sometimes it surprises me how bad it hurts. I’m okay, I
really am, but I don’t want to try to hide my experience. The trauma of losing
someone you love has long-lasting consequences. I’m so grateful for the help of friends,
family, and professionals who help move the healing forward. If you have suffered a traumatic experience, please, don't be afraid to get help. God has given us people and resources that are designed to help us heal. Please, let yourself heal.
Reflections and Dates
Especially this past month, I have found myself considering the events of the same date a year ago. For example, I’ve thought about a conversation that I had with students on March 6th, 2020, right before we went into spring break. I’ve thought about March 8th, when we had a simple family gathering to reveal our baby’s gender. I’ve thought about March 10th when Sam texted me to ask when we would be up at the cabin with the family. And I’ve thought about the email we received from our Bishop, it just so happens, on that very afternoon, March 13th, 2020, informing us that Church was being cancelled due to COVID. By the way, I didn’t recognize the time and date of that email until months later. It’s been an interesting experience to think about those connections – matching the time and dates of 2021 with 2020.
It led me to lay awake, alone with my thoughts, late into the night going into the anniversary of Sam's passing this past week. I pondered about what Sam was experiencing mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually that last night of his mortal life. I’ll quote my sweet sister, Alli, who posted this on her Instagram (@alli_sonhassell) on March 13th, 2021 –
“I remember the deep sorrow that I felt and still do that you really were that miserable and sick that you thought this was the best option. The option of leaving your family with a hole, leaving friends who love you, and leaving your great life because you thought you couldn’t get better. Sam I can say from the deepest part of my heart that I am truly so sorry. I am so sorry that you had to go through that and that you felt as if you were alone. In some ways I wish I was just there to be with you in those last moments because I would imagine they were scary, lonely, and so hard.”
Beautifully said Sis. Sam, I am so sorry you had to go through that darkness feeling so trapped and alone. I don't know exactly how he felt that night. Someday, I'll ask him. Maybe he did just go to sleep one last night hoping things would be better in the morning, but I imagine he prayed a lot. I imagine he cried in bed. I imagine that he wrote or re-wrote the tender and individualized notes he left us saying he was sorry. I imagine he tossed around in bed wrestling with his decision to make this night his last night. I imagine he felt a powerful and suffocating darkness overtake him as he resigned himself to the dreadful plan he would carry out that next day.
Resigned (Google Definitions):
Adjective – “having accepted something unpleasant that one cannot do anything
about.” Verb - “accept that something undesirable cannot be avoided.” I don’t
know what he went through that night exactly, and it's painful to think about, but
I think resigned is a fitting word to sum it up. If you know Sam, you know he is driven, obsessive,
organized, and struggles to leave things left undone. From his note, He felt that he had to do
this. I can't express how wrong and misguided he was. Suicide is NOT and will never be the answer for anyone. However, I often wonder when it was that he finally allowed himself to be resigned - to believe that “this was the best option,” like my sister said.
Keeping up the Fight
Now, a year after Sam left us, I renew my plea to prepare yourself to be a first responder in helping others who are struggling, whether or not they are openly seeking help. Study the warning signs and risk factors of suicide - they are so easy to find with a simple internet search. Consider starting with the resources addressing mental illness and suicide prevention provided by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, networking with many other reputable organizations who have incredible counsel about how to respond, what to say, and where to go for help when you become the lifeline for someone you love. I've described preparing to be that lifeline a bit more in depth, with a few more basic resources you might check out in another post: "I'm Nervous - How will I Know What to Say if a Friend Opens Up About Suicidal Thoughts?" There are so many resources to help you prepare for a moment when God might use you, knowing you are prepared, to save one of His precious children. In those moments, He will help you be what you need to be for that loved one.
And if it’s you who is reading this, fighting ferociously for peace and hope that things will get better, please hold on. I’d invite you to see my other blog post called “Fighting Suicide: Suggestions from the Sharps” for some starting things that we know can help. Talk to someone. I’d say that in almost every case, talking to anyone is better than no one. You are not alone and you do not need to suffer alone. Please do not resign yourself to believing that suicide is the only way the pain will end. You are loved and you can do this. Please, hold on. If you’re struggling to believe that things can get better, lean on me. I am absolutely confident that things can and will get better.
"Stay because you're not alone." - Sam Sharp
We found in one of Sam's notes in his phone a reminder that said, "Stay because you're not alone." Sadly, Sam was overwhelmed by his brutal battle with depression, and it seemed that he stopped believing that knowing this would be enough to get him through. In the terrible darkness he faced, it seems that he let go of what he once held on to. Please, learn from his reminder to himself, written down in a moment of strength and clarity! Please, choose to stay. Write it down over and over again when you are mentally strong and when you feel weak. Never forget it. "Stay because you're not alone." You are not alone! Please, choose to stay!
Thank you 🤍
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