On Thursday I’ll be attending the funeral of a 14 year old girl who intentionally jumped in front of a train.
I didn’t know T, but I grew up with her aunt and knew her Dad. He was 4 years older than us, which in childhood is a huge gap, but he was still a part of our lives. Our parents were/are best friends. Mum and Dad are interstate at the moment so I said I’d attend the funeral for them.
Her Dad’s going through an awful kind of hell. He found the note she left but was literally 2 minutes too late to stop her. Can you imagine?
This is bringing up a lot of stuff for me. How does the old saying go… “There but for the grace of God go I?”
Depression can hit any child in any family. I know for a fact that this is true. A very dear blog friend calls depression The Beast and I think it’s a very apt description. It prowls and it bites and once it has you in its jaws it’s very hard to wrest yourself away. Almost impossible unless you have help and support.
Around 2 years ago I was able to save my boy, because he opened up to me. I was able to get him the best help available and support him every step of the way as he slowly dug his way out of the pit of hopelessness and darkness that he was living in. He was so brave and had to fight so hard, but I’m so very sure he couldn’t have done it without the help and love from his family, doctors and a very special group of friends who stuck to him through thick and thin. Poor little T kept it all to herself and consequently she received no help and no reassurance that she was NOT messed up and that she was loved and needed. She, like my boy, was an excellent actor and no one had any idea that anything was wrong.
This is probably the last blog post I’ll write about this because it isn’t my story to tell. I will say that the amazing blog friends who supported me on the private blog I had about my son’s journey saved my sanity several times over and I thank them all. I love them all and if ever they need anything from me they’ve got it. xxx
Never take your kids for granted. Please learn from what happened here and grab your kids and hug them fiercely and listen to them. It’s our job and privilege as parents to keep those lines of communication and love open. They need to know that they’re loved and that they can tell you anything. Anything.
You never know when it will make the difference between life and death. It did for us. (So far…. touch wood.) I just wish beyond anything that it could’ve been the same for T.