Will There Be Regrets?

Whilst surfing the internet today, I found a blog started by a person for similar reasons why I started this blog – that person had lost someone and was trying to deal with the pain. However, after a number of months, the person started having regrets about what they had written. This is part of what they wrote as the last entry on their blog:

I’ve realized that I made a big mistake by starting this blog. It serves no purpose to put feelings out for public view, so I’ve deleted the entries from the last six months.

I was going to explain some things, but thought better of it. I think a small part of my old self has awakened again. I’m a bit ashamed of all the whining I’ve done here. I’m embarrassed that I’ve sought out people in my life for emotional support when I should have dealt with things privately, on my own. When I lost my mind to grief, I forgot everything that I knew.

There was more, but the above is what I want to comment on.

Firstly, in six months I might wake up one morning and feel the same way as the blogger who wrote those words. If that happens, then I’ll cross that bridge at that time and will make a decision as to what I’ll do next. However, for now, I’m finding this blog helpful. I believe it helps my friends and family understand why I’m acting the way I am. I believe it has shown them that my sorrow is much deeper than they at first thought. More importantly, it allows me to put things straight in my mind. Before writing this blog, everything was a jumbled mess. Fact and fiction merged until I no longer knew what truth was. It is worrying what a troubled mind comes up with.

Secondly, I disagree with the statement, “I should have dealt with things privately, on my own.” No one should deal with grief on their own. Most people don’t feel the need to be as public as I am, or as the blogger was, but we shouldn’t be left alone to deal with an issue this big either. Somewhere in the post, the blogger said that their old self was starting to come through, and I believe that it was probably time to stop writing the blog, but not time to delete the words expressed in those months. They were important words; even if they only meant anything to the person who wrote them (which I doubt would be the case). I know that if I had to deal with what I’ve been going through, on my own, I’d go insane.

Will I have regrets about starting this blog? About sharing the worst moments of my life? About making public, what most people would want to remain private? Maybe. Maybe not. I’m inclined to think the latter. One thing I will say though. The events surrounding the death of Barry has brought a very private person on the internet out into the open for all to see. And, maybe, I’ll even consider using my real name for publication now, instead of a pen name. For those of you who don’t know, I’m a writer (unpublished as yet, but I will endeavour to change that in the future).


7 thoughts on “Will There Be Regrets?

  1. Perhaps that blogger got some flak from his family, which is a shame. I’m hoping he was being honest about his old self coming through.

    I, too, disagree with his statement. I’m a survivor of two suicides: my little brother and my neighbor. I lost my brother in Oct. of ’96 and my neighbor in 2001. The loss of my brother was the most devastating thing I’d ever experienced in my life. I got through it on my own, but not after going insane for a couple of years.

    It wasn’t until I watched my neighbor spiral down that I came to understand what my brother went through in his last months. I was there when his wife got the news that he had overdosed. One of the things that I stressed to her was to talk about this, either with friends or a psychiatrist. She went with her kids to a counselor, who helped them get through the initial shock and the first year.

    We talked a lot about what happened as well as the events that led up to his decision, and I’ll never forget what she told me about what her counselor had said. “A healthy mind doesn’t want to kill itself.”

    She’s doing much better today. In fact, I was happy to hear that she wanted to start dating again. I’m doing much better than I was even seven years ago. Time and talking are the only things that help.

    I’m glad you started this blog. I think it will be a tremendous help to other suicide survivors.

  2. Deborah, I’m hearing so many stories where a survivor of suicide (meaning the person left behind) often has to endure a second suicide. This is terrifying! It’s like a domino effect, and no one is safe. I have personal fears over this very thing, which I have voiced on this blog.

    I’m so sorry that you had to go through your brother’s loss on your own. That must have been hard. Now, that ten years has passed, would you say the worst is over?

  3. Now, that ten years has passed, would you say the worst is over?

    Most definitely. I get upset whenever I hear of a young man dying, especially when it involves suicide. The emotions come back to the surface, but I’ve stopped obsessing about the event and the what-ifs.

    It took me five years to realize that my brother’s death wasn’t my fault, although I’ll never forget the last time my brother came over. It wasn’t a good visit because he was upset with my parents, and I took their side because he was acting irresponsible.

    I hope that he has worked out his problems, wherever he is now. I’m so glad that the really dark days are over for me because I didn’t like what this did to my personality. I’ve got my sense of humor back, but I’m still emotionally distant with people because I don’t know what they’re hiding.

    I relied a lot on comedies to get me through the first year. One night, I stayed up until 3am and read all of my journals. I was amazed by all the good times I had. I’m having them again.

    Writing helped me get through the crippling rage and anxiety that I went through. I no longer obsess about his death or the reasons behind it. Instead, my obsessions have turned to my writing and raising two happy, well-adjusted sons.

    It’s like a domino effect, and no one is safe. I have personal fears over this very thing, which I have voiced on this blog.

    That’s a very normal feeling. In the weeks after my brother died, my mother would walk into my youngest brother’s room and clutch at him for five minutes. She was so afraid that he was going to go next.

    I experienced this after my neighbor died. To this day, I thank God that he didn’t take his family out with him.

  4. It took me five years to realize that my brother’s death wasn’t my fault, although I’ll never forget the last time my brother came over.

    This is the problem with arguements. We always assume that we can put things right the next time we see a person, but there isn’t always a next time. Luckily for me, my last encounter with Barry were good and loving. I’m so thankful for that and I believe it will be a huge factor in my moving forward.

    I relied a lot on comedies to get me through the first year.

    Daniel has turned to comedies too. He said that he doesn’t want the reminders in suspense and thriller movies. His favourite genre in movies is horror, he said that he’ll stay away from that for some time yet. Besides, comedies were Barry’s favourite type of movies.

  5. Thanks for the links, Deborah.

    I’m discovering a look of books on this subject…and some of them are written by well known people. So many people have been affected by suicide. I didn’t know this until it happened to me.

  6. You’re welcome. I had no idea, either. These books (and websites) not only told me that I wasn’t alone, but some of these people inspired me to keep pushing through the hard years.

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