Worst Nightmare

My worst nightmare became a horrifying reality to two nearby families this week.
I can’t imagine anything more painful than losing a loved one to suicide.
Words fail me.

Our school counselor gave a suicide prevention workshop this month. My mind could barely believe the statistics. Suicide claims around one million lives worldwide each year. That’s one suicide every 40 seconds. What?! On top of that, there are ten to twenty attempts for each completed suicide.

As staggering as those numbers are, they are just statistics until someone you know takes their life. What can I even say?

My words are shallow because the suicide dagger has never pierced all of the way into my immediate family—and I am so grateful. There have been close calls, and oh my, they sent my heart racing. I’ve spent many nights desperately praying for my loved one’s protection from depression’s claws. But thankfully they are still here for me to hold.

The only thing I can think to give to those who are grieving are thoughts from people who have actually endured the suicide of a loved one.

“Loss from suicide is like no other loss, and there’s no time limit for grieving. Allow yourself that time to process. And then talk to someone, anyone.” — Deenie Bagley

“The ‘ton of bricks’ that are thrust upon your shoulders by a loved ones’ suicide never goes away. But you do get stronger shoulders.” — Frank Kaufman

“Be patient with yourself. One day you’ll be able to celebrate the life and not focus on the method of death. Please, please, just be patient.” — Judi Swenson

For those of you still stuck in a nightmare: I am so sorry for your loss. Please know that you are in my thoughts and prayers.

Lessons learned in the Autism Room: There’s Always Something to Sing About

Our Autism Room is brimming with interesting sounds. Many of our students enter our room at three years of age and leave when they are ready for kindergarten. They often start out as nonverbal, so you might assume the room is quiet. Not so.

Most of the time, you hear adult voices modeling words and young voices trying to talk. Each student receives one-on-one personalized training, so with eighteen people, it can get loud. Sometimes you hear screams of frustration (from the kids, not the adults—though our patience is also tested). Occasionally, you hear singing (from the kids AND the adults). Maybe it’s because of my years as a music teacher, but hearing little ones sing brightens my day.

There is one small boy in particular whose singing makes me smile. He hasn’t started talking yet, but that doesn’t stop him from sharing the song in his heart. Sometimes he hums. Other times he uses sounds like “duh-gah duh-gah” to fit the tune. His singing is contagious and I often join in. I’ve found that both of us feel better afterwards.

What does he sing about? I’m not always sure, but sometimes I recognize the song. His favorites include You Are My Sunshine, We Are the Champions, Here I Come to Worship, and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. I’m guessing many of his tunes are originals that he composed.

He reminds me that there is always a reason to sing. We all have challenges and go through hard times. If we focus on the bad, we can easily become depressed. But if we look for the good, we will find something to sing about. Our grateful attitude will seep out through a song or a smile and spread to others. Why add complaining to a noisy room, when we can be singing?

So keep singing, sweet boy. I wouldn’t be surprised if music opens the door to your vocabulary. Either way, thank you for reminding me (and now others) that there is always something to sing about.

Unbidden

depressed-girl

Strip away the facts and advice that we’ve covered over the last few months. Here are my deepest thoughts on my character quest for a positive attitude.

UNBIDDEN
©Tami Brumbaugh

Unbidden
Dreary thoughts creep through open windows
Innocent-looking pests
Needing a place to rest
I’m a reluctant host
But offer them a room.
“Just for the night,” I state.
They unpack their bags overflowing with discontent, comparisons, and injustice
Burrowing

Unwelcome
Depressing thoughts awaken and slither from their beds
Disguised pests
Now wanting food to eat
I’m a hesitant host
But seat them at my table
“Just one meal,” I say.
They nibble at my tranquility, and sneak second helpings of my joy
Devouring

Unwanted
Dismal thoughts stalk from the table
Concerning pests
Demanding entertainment
I’m an accommodating host
And share my deepest desires
“Just don’t get too comfortable,” I beg.
They kick off their shoes, splattering mud on my hopes and dreams
Wrecking

“Just wait a minute,” I protest.
“You don’t own this place. It’s time for you to leave.”
Their façade drops to the floor like empty promises
They snarl and sprout tentacles that latch onto my soul
Siphoning

“Just try to make us,” they taunt.
They hang my disappointments under bright lights and read them to me one by one
I turn away in agony, but they pursue
Shoving my failures into my face with such force I fall backwards
Banging my head against the wall
Bleeding

Unnerved
I retreat to my room
Locking the door and turning off the light
I curl into a ball on the floor
Wallowing in misery
Letting the happiness drain from my wound unchecked
Depression seeps under the door
Saturating my socks and creeping up to my heart
I watch in horrified fascination
My arms hanging limp at my sides
Useless appendages failing to come to my aid
Drowning

Unexpected
Encouraging refrains of a song tap at the window
Subtle words
Eager to soothe
I’m a wounded host
Unable to offer them a room
“Just let me fade,” I cry.
They mop up the depression and bandage my wounds with peace
Healing

Undeserved
Uplifting refrains turn on the lights and point out my blessings
Reflective words
Reminding me of the good
I’m a cautious host
And uncoil from my ball.
“Just help me up,” I plead.
They grasp my hands and pull me to my feet, offering a shoulder to lean on.
Strengthening

Unconditional
Inspiring refrains steer my eyes off myself so I can see others
Optimistic words
Reminding me of my purpose
I’m an invigorated host.
And throw open the room’s door
“Just watch me now,” I exclaim.
I chase the destructive thoughts out of my mind, spraying air freshener to remove their stench.
Growing

When the destructive thoughts return
Pounding at the door with calloused fists
I will point to my ‘No Soliciting’ sign
The sullen pests may yell and threaten
But they are banished
Undone
Drowned out by illuminating refrains
Affirmative words from songs, scripture, supporters
Feeding my soul
Bidden
Welcome
Wanted