Not The Week We Expected

Lauren

I said something this week I have not said since May of 2024.

“I would like to get off this ride now.”

Not like that, mind you.

Just in a “It’s all too fast and too intense and please god its all too much, may I just set foot on solid ground again? Just a second of solid ground?”

Turns out no. Not when you ask for it, unfortunately. You can eventually, but the moment when it slows down is not up to you to decide, sometimes.

I wasn’t going to write about this.

It all was really too much and concerned young people… but I feel I need to share and there may be some advice to pass on that can help others, so here is the abridged version.

My middle daughter’s friend tried to kill herself Sunday night. They’re both 16.

She sent my daughter a message at 11:05pm.

the friend wouldn’t answer the phone. I didn’t have the mom’s number. I had my daughter get on the phone to their entire friend group. To get those friends to wake up their parents and get someone who had the Mom’s number.

We finally got it and started calling. I was walking out the door to drive to their house when the mom finally answered the phone. She found her daughter. She called an ambulance. They stabilized her and got her to the hospital and were able to save her life.

She had slit her wrists. It was a matter of minutes of difference.

My daughter’s friend is alive today and is now in an in-patient facility after 4 days in a medical hospital. She has a long road ahead of her.

The fucking terror of that night in those moments, though. And in the knowledge now as to how differently it all could have gone.

I always have my daughter turn in her phone at 10pm and just… forgot on Sunday. I never forget. That one night I did though. If I had taken it up it would have been charging in the kitchen and my daughter would have woken up to that text message she missed and a dead friend. It would have destroyed her.

When she ran into my room after getting the message she looked me in the eye and said: “I can’t lose anyone else.” The fucking desperation in her voice… I’m having a hard time shaking it.

The absolute edge of disaster that got walked that night… my feet are still bloody from the sharpness of that knife edge. My breath still randomly catches.

Perhaps something was at work that day. The stars aligned. She is alive. I hang onto that.

As for us, now… my daughter is struggling but clawing her way back. Her other friends have rallied around her in a way that makes me love this generation of kids; with their swift empathy and care for each other. I’m not sure I was that emotionally intelligent at 16. She has an amazing group of friends and I am so thankful for them and how they are caring for her this week.

I am trying to convey to my daughter that she is not responsible for saving everyone around her. That it is not her willpower keeping people alive and okay. That she is not the thing that holds off disaster for the people around her that she loves.

Except this one time… she absolutely was and did.

So I’m not sure the message is sinking in.

She gets flashes of anger, on and off. As do I.

And we are so thankful, all the time, too.

And wounded in a way that is impossible to describe another way. We are wounded by this, deeply. Wound on top of wound.

Hard things do not always wait for you to be in a good place before crashing down upon you.

It has been a lot, these past weeks. Seems unusually like a lot, right?

I remember the PTSD my brother had for a while there, around his birthday on April 19th- today, in fact. The Branch Davidian siege and fire happened on his birthday. And the Oklahoma City bombing. He spent many years after holding his breath each time his birthday rolled around.

I wonder if he still does? I should ask him.

I expect spring will be like that, for us. For a while. Or longer.

It was a lot.

I got us both in emergency therapy sessions this week. I have many strategies I learned and advice for her and we have talked, every day about it. She wanted to see her friends on Monday but I picked her up in second period and she slept for 3 hours during the day. She needed it.

We have talked and watched Southpark together for some laughs and for it to be a much needed break from the horror and pain.

We have gotten outside and she has been drawing and sewing and creating many things with her hands.

And things around here do seem like they are stabilizing.

But my god, y’all.

Some things I learned in my therapy session about how to support and help my daughter through this, and about teen suicide, in general.

Suicide is the 2nd leading cause of death for 16-19 year olds, after accidental deaths (car accidents, etc.)

This happens because during that time in brain development the frontal cortex isn’t fully formed (for impulse control) and the feel good hormones like dopamine take an absolute nosedive.

I remember as a teenager feeling like I was never going to be happy again, like I was in childhood, and wondering what was wrong with me. And I sure as hell wish someone had told me it wasn’t just me or always gonna be like that and that there was a brain chemistry reason for it.

The things that help alleviate that suicide risk in teenagers is also interesting.

*Suicide risk is reduced in kids who can talk to multi-generational groups. Those who can talk to and relate to kids and adults and can relate and engage with people who are not their direct peers see a protective benefit from it during their teen years.

*Suicide risk is reduced in kids who play a musical instrument.

*And suicide risk is reduced in kids who can go to their parents for help.

I asked my therapist why on some of those and she says the working theory is that it engages more of the brain, and builds a bigger concept of time/ the world outside of the teenage bubble. And a helpful parent to turn to is self explanatory. Perhaps forming bonds with younger and older people also better illustrates who all would be affected by their suicide and so reduces their risk of it.

I am so thankful mine check every one of those off, and knowing that has been a relief to me, this week.

My husband and I always raised them to talk to everyone. They all are capable and love talking to our friends and aunts and uncles and grandparents (a few anyway) and great aunts and uncles… as well as our older neighbors… who knew we were helping protect them? And here we just thought it was important socializing.

That my husband got them playing guitar and ukulele at an early age is also something he did not do for this reason, but it served many benefits. I’ve heard my middle daughter playing guitar (her dad’s guitar) in her room, this week. She picked it up to do on her own, she doesn’t need to be told to do it. Words escape us all sometimes, so it’s nice to have another language to pour pain into.

And (knock on wood) I’ve always stayed connected with them. We never had that slamming door, “I hate you Mom!” type of relationship. Raising my girls through being teenagers has not always been perfect, but we’ve always been connected, thank god.

My daughter told me this week that when she asks a question of her tarot cards (we’re all into it, what can I say) and she pulls the Empress card that she says she knows the cards always mean me and she’s supposed to come to me for advice. I may have never heard anything more flattering in my life, honestly, you know?

I just love those girls so damn much.

I will get them through. I WILL.

And I will get me through. I WILL.

I have told Lucas to hold us all very, very tight through all of this. And somehow he has.

We are hurt but not destroyed.

And morning comes, each day, around here.

Just like always.

8 thoughts on “Not The Week We Expected”

  1. I haven’t quite known what/how to respond. First, I’m so glad that young woman is getting the help she needs and hope that continues. I wish strength to her and her family. You and your daughter are heroines for acting quickly with the phone calls, so huge kudos for that. It seems you’re ‘handling’ this well, recognizing the importance of open discussions. But still, what a week. I dearly hope this week has been better. Thinking of y’all…

  4. I have experience with this, though I won’t go into detail here because I don’t want to take away from your experience. I’m sending so much love to you, your daughter, her friend, and everyone involved.

    1. I too wish I didn’t have experience with this before… and this is the only one someone walked away from in the last 20 or so years- so I know how differently it could have gone. It’s awful. And I’m sorry you have experience with it too

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