Nobody knows the unrelenting pull of suicide except those of us who live with it everyday. It is such a vile ugliness. Even as I put my children to bed, it doesn't stop, so I hug and kiss them as though it could be last time ever. Sometimes I even cry while reading them nighttime stories. All they understand is that daddy is sad and it is their love in that moment that helps me muster every ounce of strength to walk out of that room and go to sleep. It is far too dangerous to stay awake. You cannot slit your wrists when you're asleep.
I lOve my family so much, but this pulling feeling can be pretty strong. One of my greatest fears is that one day I will succumb to those irrational images that float in my own blood nstrewn across the floor. Or maybe I just won't wake up one morning to turn off the alarm and Denise will have to find me and figure out how to turn off the alarm. It is all rather gloomy. I wish those thoughts would go away. I really do.