June 3rd 1991 I became a big sister. My mom’s favorite story to tell is when I would rock him to sleep and sing a lullaby I had made up just for him about how I was going to beat him up. Who even knows why, kids are mean. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t lie to the poor kid. But I also would of done anything for him, had he asked. That is the problem with us prideful humans, we don’t want to burden others and so we don’t ask for help. I think as a suicide loss survivor, I do ask for help now if I am at the end of my rope. I know the pain all to well to pass it on to someone else. I will never condone suicide, but I also get it. I get being tired of fighting, of faking a smile, and just tired of waking up. I think anyone fighting alone everyday, you need to know someone wants to help you. When you are in that dark of a place those words are meaningless, and the list of who would help you is empty in your head.
1-800-273-8255 someone at the other end of that phone number wants to help you though.
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Billy you were a wild one, probably from the moment you were born. From tearing up your knee because you thought you should learn to skateboard on a gravel road, to riding your bike down a slide. Selling your art in elementary for ice cream money was one of your more genius ideas. Letting mom shave BMX into your heard because you signed all those art prints as Billy Bob BMX is one of my favorite memories. You literally were down for anything, thrill seeker is a mild term for you. Growing up without you around would of been quite boring so I am thankful to laugh at the many memories I have of you. You had stories for days but I would have loved to hear all those thoughts and feelings you hid away. Painful lesson I still haven’t learned. Dig into people’s hearts, dig into their heads. If someone says, “I am just a bad communicator” help them become better. That sentence came from a friend I lost to suicide a couple years ago, and still hunts me. Why didn’t I see his pain, I have lost one loved one to suicide I should be able to spot it better. But that sentence is a joke. The ones that are at the end of their ropes are pros at hiding it. Seven years now and I am still working on admitting that. Still working on begging you to ask for help, to admit you need help, to reach out so someone can hold you. Because no matter if you can not think of a single person who would, I’d do any of those things for you. Yes you, even if I don’t know your name. If I can save your life and prevent your family the pain I know all to well, I’d do it in a heartbeat – hit that contact tab. Or call, 1-800-273-8255.
Suicide is the 10th leading cause of death in the US
In 2018, 48,344 Americans died by suicide
In 2018, there were an estimated 1.4M suicide attempts
The rate of suicide is highest in middle-aged white men.
In 2018, men died by suicide 3.56x more often than women.
On average, there are 132 suicides per day.
White males accounted for 69.67% of suicide deaths in 2018.
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You came to stay a month with me in Temecula, California and while most of that was kicked up on the couch with a tv on, those couch talks we had I cherish. You had just turned 18 so of course we had to get you inked, and what an honor it was to watch you not cringe one bit while getting your first tattoo. While your idea for your first tattoo was lost on many, I had to put part of it on my own body, your ashes included. Call me a copy cat, I don’t mind. It is what it is lol. I put your misfit skull next the first tattoo I got for you. In the Air Tonight lyrics, “Well the hurt doesn’t show, but the pain still grows.” Your friend Tanner gave me a list of your favorite songs, digging through each one was painful. But those lyrics describe every second of my days. Probably not so much those first few years without you, because the pain I admit I couldn’t hide. Too weak to hide it, maybe. But with each passing day, while I love to say your name and remind anyone willing to listen about you, I too am becoming a pro at hiding the pain. I never believed the line, “Time heals everything.” People DO NOT tell this to someone who just recently lost a loved one. It is a LIE, for the most part. No way could I believe anything could heal a heart as broken as mine was March 3rd 2013. I think we just get used to living with a broken heart, I think we find ways to love with such a broken vessel in our body. Who knows I am just guessing because I am still learning. Sure with time things get easier, but telling people over used lines like the one above is little hurtful. If you can’t get creative with your words of comfort just hug them.
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William Robert Scott what I wouldn’t do to be able to see you be a father to the girls you left behind. What I wouldn’t give to see you with the little boy carrying on part of your name. I think I need to vow to myself to go out of my comfort zone more with Rhett. To jump off higher things with him, to teach him to skateboard but maybe on a paved road, who knows maybe I should let him ride a bicycle down a slide just for you little brother. You aren’t here to help this kid do all the things I’d rather him not, so maybe that is more reason to let him myself. If Rhett William is half the dude you were William Robert what a kid I’d have. Happy 29th baby brother! Keep reminding me you are watching and to let go of these reigns a little bit.
