You came back. I was so happy. We talked and laughed and did things together. Like listening to music and cooking and taking the dogs for walks. We had this game we started playing where we would call each other on our phones and talk even though we were sitting right there together. We would watch each other while we talked on the phone. It was silly. I would record the calls so I could listen to them later.

Then one day I tried to listen to them and it was only my voice. I called you, but you wouldn’t pick up the phone. I called and I called. I was frantic. Where were you? Why weren’t you answering? I needed you to pick up the phone.

You came home and I yelled at you. I insisted that we play our game. This time I wanted you to play it right and not mess up the recording. I called you again. Looking right at you, screaming at you. “Answer the phone. Answer the phone.”

You looked so sad when you said, “I can’t. I’m dead.”

I woke up.

And so here I am, crying in the middle of the night in this quiet and lonely house. Missing you. Wishing all the wishes again that you had made a different choice. Feeling like this path to healing has looped back again. Again. Just when I thought I was doing so well.

I miss you. Nothing about your suicide is good or right or fair. I miss you. And tonight I am sad.

For some people, however — an estimated 15 percent of the bereaved population, or more than a million people a year — grieving becomes what Dr. M. Katherine Shear, a professor of psychiatry at Columbia, calls “a loop of suffering.” And these people, Dr. Shear added, can barely function. “It takes a person away from humanity,” she said of their suffering, “and has no redemptive value.”

Soon we will be able to accept online donations through PayPal – we’re just waiting for them to confirm our bank account. In the meantime, you can still go to CommunityFunded and make a pledge. Every dollar is important. Every dollar counts.

Your generous donations will help us to create an art book that showcases the artwork of suicide survivors as they explore their grief and healing. It is our goal to then create a traveling exhibit that features artworks from the book as well as pieces by survivor in communities the exhibit visits.

Thank you.

Click on photo to read the article.

Every 30 seconds, someone attempts suicide in the United States. 101 people die each day, adding up to over 36,000 suicide deaths every year. And across the globe, 1.1 million people are lost to suicide.

Imagine how many people are left behind. What does that number look like?

How do suicide survivors deal with the shock, anguish and guilt that follows a suicide loss? For each person, the answer is different. Some channel their grief through creative expression. They write. They make art. They compose music or make films.

I am working on a book, And Tomorrow Comes Again, showcasing artistic  statements of grief, healing and peace. A traveling exhibit will feature selected pieces from the book and contributions from community members.

This powerful project is important, intending to spark vital dialog about suicide and what it leaves behind. It takes a lot of time, effort and financial resources to build a book.
There’s the outreach to find creatives, compiling and editing the material, book design and layout, social media and publicity expenses, administrative costs, professional fees. It adds up quickly.

I’m asking for your help to finance the production costs through Community Funded, a tool that connects people, ideas and resources in historic new ways, empowers our communities, and promotes “grass-roots economic recovery.”  Like KickStarter, Community Funded gives you the opportunity to invest in meaningful projects like And Tomorrow Comes Again.
For as little as $10, you can help make this dream a reality. Please go to the Community Funded web site and pledge to contribute. Every dollar helps. Every dollar makes a difference.
Anything’s possible when it’s Community Funded.

It’s been a lot of work, and I needed to take time to take a deep breath.

Self-care is important.

More updates: We’re filing the appropriate applications with the IRS to make ATCA a nonprofit organization. Sending out invitations today to potential board members and checking off everything on the list.

It’s a lot of work – but we’re getting there, and it’s exciting!

Paper Shadows
Mic Eales

Birdwings

Your grief for what you’ve lost lifts a mirror
up to where you’re bravely working.

Expecting the worst, you look, you look, and instead,
here’s the joyful face you’ve been wanting to see.

Your hand opens and closes and opens and closes.
If it were always a fist or always stretched open,
you would be paralyzed.

Your deepest presence is in every small contracting
and expanding,
the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated
as birdwings.

— Rumi

The Essential Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks