Well it has definitely been a whirlwind here since the hubs came home. We went to Hawaii (more to come on that in a future blog post), he went to Colorado on an elk hunting trip, my busiest time of the year for work started, I also started working on my Certified Personal Trainer course, and now this weekend I am attending a Suicide Survivor Seminar. (Oh. and the big AFSP San Diego Out of the Darkness Walk is in just over 2 weeks.) Of all the things I have going on, it's this weekend that is stressing me out the most.
About 500 people will be attending the TAPS Military Suicide Survivor Seminar in San Diego. As you all know, my father died by suicide just over 8 years ago, shortly after his retirement from his civilian and military careers. Among other problems, he suffered from PTSD. I still wonder daily if I'd known then what I know now, would he still be here? Would the Moose know him? Would they be the best of buddies? (I have a feeling they would be, because they are just far too much alike. I'm reminded everyday that he lives on in her.)
But anyway, back to this weekend. For the last few days, I've felt this increasing anxiety and dread. I am attending the Peer Mentor training on Friday, then the seminar lasts Saturday and Sunday. This is not my first large scale suicide survivor event, but it IS my first that caters only to military survivors. The topics covered include prevention and PTSD, moving on and building new relationships (something I suck at, as I still cannot bring myself to connect with my hubby's family). There will be children there - young children, Moose's age - and it breaks my heart that ANY child has to know this pain. It's so fucking unfair. I'm 35 years old and it cripples me sometimes. Imagine being 4 or 5, and living with that your entire life. I just can't.
I know the emotions of the weekend are going to be raw, and right there in my face, which is easy for me to deal with for short periods of time, or with smaller groups of people. But 500+ people, for 48+ hours? It's freaking me out. I don't DO public emotion. In our family, it just wasn't acceptable. After my dad died, I didn't cry in public for years. Hell, I didn't cry in private for a year. It just isn't done. You suck it up and move on, soldier!
And, I will be there alone. I didn't think it was fair to Moose to take her and make her sit through the pain and healing cycle. She knows how her Poppy died, but we don't talk about it in casual conversation. She knows how much it hurts me. Sometimes, she is my rock. But I just couldn't be selfish and take her away for the weekend just so I can wallow. (And yes, sometimes I need to wallow.) So I'm facing this alone. And I suspect it will be completely draining, and I'll cry myself to sleep at least once.
On the other hand, I know that in a lot of ways, this weekend will be exactly what I need. I'll be around people who understand this pain (as much as my hubby tries, I don't think he quite gets it, but I still love him). I'll be learning how to support others experiencing this pain. I'm sure that the rewards will be plentiful, but just getting there is going to suck. I've been a million miles away in my head the last few days. I'm scared. I'm not sleeping well. I feel like there is a weight on my chest.
TAPS does amazing work for our military and their families. I encourage everyone to check it out at TAPS.org. Even if you are not in need of their services, mentally file it away for the day you might need it. Already, they have been there in ways I didn't imagine I would ever need. And I'm sure this weekend will be no exception.
Here's hoping the hotel has margaritas on the room service menu!!!
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