I feel like I just came back from another planet. Planet Cleveland, where 200+ survivors of suicide loss gathered. Where people get me. Where no one rushes over to stop the tears, where I don't feel like a freak if I start crying when I witness a moving story. And there were many, many. Where we took time for ourselves to experience all our emotions, collectively and individually. Grief, big huge grief, guilt, anger, radiance, happiness, joy, and every other feeling you can feel. I can't even say how meaningful this weekend was to me.
I felt the loving arms of AFSP around me. Every detail was so carefully planned, every speaker was amazing and had a connection to suicide themselves and were open and honest about it. Where the organizer, a man mind you, openly cried on stage when he was thanked at the end of weekend, and DIDN'T APOLOGIZE FOR IT. I don't know his personal story, but he knows we don't have to apologize for breaking down (I'm slowly learning this, too).
Wow, there was a quiet room with coloring pages and water where anyone could go and take a moment. There was music, laughter, dance, art, sharing, friends, new and old; they all felt like old, dear friends. There was no judgment whatsoever. You might think, what a depressing group. Well, let me tell you, this was not a group of downer people. These were long term survivors who are learning and growing in this journey. They are inspiring, open, caring, funny, effervescent, parents, siblings, partners, friends and family members. They are doing amazing things in their communities across the nation. They travelled hours and hours to get here. This was important work.
I felt proud to be associated with American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. Good about raising funds for an organization where they focus on programs and research, support and advocacy, and are slim on staff numbers, but the staff they do have have huge hearts. They are accessible. I met the top leaders, people who have emailed me, and I felt like I already knew. It's pretty incredible. I felt appreciated and held in a warm hug for days, a hug that goes on in this fight I have taken up, to reduce suicide, so less people have to join this club.
You're why I do this. You matter. Your life mattered.
Adam, 1988, water color by Chuck Melvin
