Verified by 
A text from a friend: “Just checking on you…”
I am glad I have friends who are avid consumers of news. These are the people who text to check in, who let me know that a big story just broke, who suggest I be wary on social media. Just the same, this friend was right: The news was unavoidable.
In just several days’ time, three people with connections to prominent tragedies took their own lives. Two young people who survived the Parkland school shooting, Sydney Aiello and Calvin Desir, and one father, Jeremy Richman, whose daughter Avielle died in the Sandy Hook school shooting. I found myself sighing audibly as I finished typing those words, reading them over, allowing them to sink in.
It was not even a year ago that the suicide deaths of Anthony Bourdain and Kate Spade shocked the world. Collectively, we couldn’t believe these successful, accomplished individuals would have reason to take their own lives.
With the three recent deaths, though, it feels different. These are people who have lost something, and in this, lost a view of all of us. These first losses took place immediately following the shootings: They lost loved ones, a sense of safety, the vision for the future they’d expected.
In the time since surviving their tragedies, they have lost something essential to going on, to moving forward: Hope. They may have been able to hold on to it for some time, to make meaning, to try to go on and move forward. But that kind of resilience, the resilience that stares back at fear and devastation and says, “I’ve got this” -- that is hard to cultivate. I understand how these three people could feel hopeless. Their lives were directly impacted by losses for which we truly can’t prepare. They woke up one day thinking that it was just another day, and within hours, their lives were changed indescribably. They kept going, but with hearts and minds that were badly hurt.
So how do we, the public, make sense of this news, three suicide deaths within days of each other? Is there anything to be taken from it?
Traumatic events can have a lasting impact.
Some people walk away from a traumatic event badly shaken, but back to some semblance of normal pretty quickly. Others take a bit longer, utilizing support resources, thinking and feeling a lot about what happened. Still, others are impacted deeply, sometimes so much that we might call what they are experiencing Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, a clinical diagnosis that means that their lives (their hearts and minds) feel the impact of the traumatic event for a month or more. Sometimes, things feel worse further out in time, when many people have moved on and an individual expects to feel better, but doesn’t.
Grief looks different for everyone.
Some people grieve openly, in ways we expect: Tears, participating in funerals or vigils, marking an anniversary of a loss. Some people grieve privately, quietly, alone. Others are in shock in the immediate aftermath of a loss, so feelings of grief don’t come until later. Some people become activists, working to create meaning from their loss. Many people do all of these things over time.
Checking in on each other is critical.
One of the hardest parts of writing about these deaths is knowing that these three individuals had people in their lives who cared about them, very much. It can’t be overstated that being there for each other through challenging times, as well as the ups and downs of everyday life, is essential to feeling like life has meaning. Staying connected keeps us vital.
Some of us feel connected through real-life communities: Participation in a faith community, a workplace community, a parent community. Some of us connect via virtual communities and turn to people through apps and texting. This counts. Being there for each other means that we notice when someone is missing, or when something is off, or share something small that made us think of someone. It helps to be on either end, the recipient of a “check-in” or the person who initiates one.
Especially at times when challenge and tragedy feel like they’re all around us, we can be there for each other. It is one thing we can do when other things feel out of control.
If you or a loved one are struggling with suicidal thoughts, please reach out to the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255), or contact the Crisis Text Line by texting TALK to 741741.
Copyright 2019 Elana Premack Sandler, All Rights Reserved
