Saturday, June 5, 2010


I've neglected Things-that-are-awesome Thursday, and FlogYoBlog Friday.  I also have an award that I am deeply honoured to receive, but I am choosing to wait before publicly receiving it and sharing it.

I have had a week full of introspection about where my life is as an individual, because as a parent I'm really kind of right on track.  That prevented me from blogging on Thursday.

Friday morning brought news of the tragic passing of a schoolmate that while I wasn't particularly close to, I had at least one class with every semester, for four years.  The short of it is that she ended her own life.

This news had an unexpected effect on me.  I've lost other classmates before, and as with this one, we were friendly but not close.  I certainly mourned their passing, and felt a deep sympathy for their families and friends.  They're ALL tragic in their own right - we're young in the grand scheme of things.  Some left behind children, all left behind an aching void in the lives of those they were close to.

Heather's passing, however, left me a bit lost.  Here's why:  I've been there before.

I've toed the edge of the depthless chasm she ultimately stepped off of.  I know what it's like to be enveloped in that darkness and that hopelessness.  I even know what it's like to slip, though I'm incredibly blessed that there was miraculously someone there to throw me a rope when I had slipped over the ledge, before I hit the bottom from which I couldn't return.

I was angry when I learned of her death.  I was angry that I hadn't reached out to her long before now, and I felt immensely guilty, knowing that I may have been able to, through my complete understanding of where she was, help her.

Of course, none of these feelings were valid logically, because I also know that when you set your mind to make that movement off the ledge, you mean it.  I also know well that she had many friends and family who had tried to help her before.

What can I say?  I'm semi-Catholic.  Guilt is what I do.

I've decided that in addition to my other philanthropic pursuits, I want to give a little piece of myself to one more thing, on a more personal level.

I want every one of you, readers, to know that *someone* understands.  If you ever find yourself so overwhelmed and exhausted that you're considering just giving up, know that there is someone who knows exactly where you are, and that they care.  That I want you to make a bet with me and put up a fight, even if it's just to prove me wrong.  Get angry, take solace, do whatever you must do.  Just don't give up. 

I can always be reached at, and I often check here for comments multiple times a day.

Ultimately, there is no situation so bleak and hopeless that there is nothing left to live for.  Someone will always care for you and be left feeling bereft at your absence, even if it is just an anonymous Accidental Mommy on the internet. 

If you're so close that you don't think you can wait for me to check my email or my comments, there are other ways to find help and hope. is the address for the Kristen Brooks Hope Center and the home of HopeLine, a 24 hour anonymous suicide prevention hotline.  The telephone number is 1-800-suicide.  (1-800-784-2433). 

I mean it when I say that I love you.  Every single one of you.  It may not be on the same level as your most intimate friends and family, but it IS love, and love should always count for something.

Be well, my friends, and be kind to yourselves.  You're always worth it.


  1. Amen to that, darling. I'm so sorry about your friend.

  2. You are a beautiful person and you have a beautiful heart. xo