You Are Loved - World Suicide Prevention Day 2020

As you’re probably aware September is Suicide Awareness Month, and yesterday, 10th September, signified World Suicide Prevention Day.

It’s been 7 whole months since my father’s passing, and when yesterday came I found myself with so much to write, so much to say, but I struggled to articulate it in such a way other than a jumble of words. As with everything I share on social media, I wanted my words to come from a place of authentic, embodied truth. I know that when I close my eyes, ground myself in my sacred vessel, and connect to the quiet whispers of my soul, I can channel words that move through me effortlessly with grace and ease. Yesterday, I found it hard to connect. I was doing everything possible to resist self-embodiment, to escape connecting to my truth because it’s painful. It’s vulnerable. It’s raw.

I knew I had something to share, and I trusted the timing of when I felt ready. I trust that my words will reach those who need it, at just the right time.

I, among many others, am one of those who are left behind trying to navigate the devastating grief that comes with losing a loved one to suicide.

Empathic, determined and selfless are just a few of the many words to describe the beautiful, incredible soul who was my dad. He was a fun, generous, compassionate and gentle soul, a loving father, husband, brother and son, a highly respected serviceman and firefighter, a dedicated athlete. He was the person everyone confided in and trusted deeply to not only listen but truly hear and hold space. He had the biggest heart and the warmest soul. But beneath all of that, he was fighting an invisible battle that sadly, became too much for him to carry. 16th February 2020, was the day my dad chose to end his life.

The memories of that night will stay with me forever. The pain was, and still is, unbearable and something that has changed me in many ways. The past 7 months I have grieved and felt anger, guilt and sadness in my heart, unlike anything I could ever have imagined. I have cried and screamed and screamed some more. I have hated God, Universe, Source - whatever, I doubted my faith altogether.

I’ve questioned my own existence and cried until I had no energy to do anything but lay on the bathroom floor and mourn for the deep, meaningful relationship I had with my living father. Trying to make sense of my life as I now know it, one without my dad and soul mate in it.

I’ve had no choice but to learn how to be gentle with myself, though this is still something I struggle with greatly. There have been endless questions, ‘what if’s’, ‘but why's’, and ‘if only’s’. I have spent a lot of time wondering what I could have done differently to lead to a different outcome. I wish with everything I am that I could bring him back for one more day, just to tell him that I love him and that he matters so damn much. I would give anything to go back to that night as the person I am now and tell him that I needed him to stay, to show him how much the world needed him.

Yet, here I am today writing these words. It still hasn’t quite sunk in that he’s gone. I still get excited when I hear a car door shut and for a very brief moment think it’s my dad arriving home. He’s still the first person I go to call when something goes wrong or when I simply want to laugh until my stomach hurts. I still lie awake in the morning, hoping to hear him get in from work.

But I’m slowly coming to accept that he is gone, he is at peace. What matters most now, is that I live each day of my life in honour of him.

I pray that I can continue my dad’s legacy and be a beacon of light for those who are fighting an internal battle with the darkness, to give them the hope they need to choose continuity over finality, and the courage they need to turn the page instead of shut the book.

Although sharing my story is insurmountably hard and won’t change the outcome of my dad’s inner battle, I’m comforted by the hope that I can reach at least one person who needs to hear this and remind them that they are not alone.

Right now, I’m writing to you, the person who is lost and tired and feels they have exhausted all options, the person who is struggling alone and afraid to reach out, the person who cannot see a light or relief from this pain… I am writing to remind you that no matter how dark things may currently seem, how hopeless and lost you feel, there will always be someone who can help, someone to listen, someone to lean on. That you are loved - more than you could ever know. You are worth it. You are, and will always be enough. You matter. You are important. You are divine and wildly beautiful, inside and out. You are the very essence of life itself and have a divine purpose in this world. You belong here. You are thought of and cared about, even if you may not know it. Even when it feels like there is nothing left, I promise you there is infinite worth in your potential.

I am not here to tell you that it will be easy, that one day you will wake up and it will all have gone away, that you will have an epiphany and divine awakening that will transform darkness into love and light - because right now that’s probably impossible to comprehend.

But I want you to know that I see you. I hear from you. I feel you. I understand. And I am here. Please, reach out - to a friend, a loved one, to a professional. This is not the end of your journey, and there is always a way out.

To others, today, I ask you to see someone and smile. To soak in their spirit and love. I encourage you to be a listening ear to a friend in need. To be understanding when someone confides in you. To not try to fix, but just listen and hear with your heart. Share their pain and hold them. Remind them that you’re here to stay.

But above all, to be generous with the love you give. We have to be open to having these conversations or things will never progress. So, please, talk about it. Share your pain. Share your testimonies. You never know who needs to hear what you have to share, who will find the courage they need to continue in the words you have to offer.

Remember to check in on your friends, your family (yes, even your parents who seem so strong), strangers who you feel may be hurting, and yourself. Talk deeply with those who seem to be drawing away from those who they love. Those contemplating suicide are in the darkest, most empty, and severely isolated places of their life... it is essential to speak up and reach out, but also to pray fervently for light to replace their encompassing darkness.

Beneath the many layers of grief I feel today, lies a foundation of eternal gratitude. I’m thankful to have felt and shared a love that knows no bounds. I’m blessed to have grown up with such a strong connection to my father, one that I will cherish forever. Grateful to have loved so deeply and been guided by such a powerful man. I’m channelling every ounce of love and energy he had to offer this world to ensure he is not just a statistic, but a change to how deeply we can love and listen, and how united we stand in being vulnerable.

Reach out, and always, always love.

I miss you, Daddy, forever your little girl.

Since February, I have been working closely with the mental health charity, Mind. So far, we have raised £7,836. If you feel called to donate, you can visit my JustGiving page here.

Big love,
Grace x