My Mother’s Suicide Letter

My mother killed herself exactly 9 years ago. It was obviously a huge tragedy, a crippling blow for the entire family to cope with. But I can’t say I didn’t know it was coming. She spent her whole life, and most of my childhood, in and out of mental hospitals, us kids thinking she was “going out of town for a bit.” We weren’t filthy rich, but we did okay for ourselves. She was a nurse. My dad owned a small business in a nearby town. They had three kids, and loved each other. But my mother’s crippling depression was too much for her, and she caved under it.

Needless to say, I’ve spent many years coming to terms with this. Writing this is no small feat for me, and the need to do it anonymously is a necessity, I hope you understand. To make a very long story short, my mother left me this note, it was one she wrote years before she actually went through with her suicide. I was young, she was sick. I’ve wanted to publish an excerpt of it for years because for some reason, people just have more clarity when they think their lives are about to end. 

Nobody is at fault here. Not you, not your father, not Anna or Ken. Please do not spend the rest of your days feeling like you did something wrong. I had a good life, with good people. I love you so much that I could not put words to it, and my having to leave has nothing to do with how much I love you. I hope you will not hate me for this.

I want you to be a good person. I want you to know that happy days are always ahead. Take care of your brother and sister, your father will be okay. Don’t spend your days missing me, spend them living for yourself. I think you should know that if you spend most of your days feeling as though they might be your last, by your own hand, you do things differently. Do not forget you are not invincible. Fight hard when you can, accept when you need to. What you have here is one moment in the infiniteness of life. Make it count, but don’t let it rest on your shoulders and weigh you down. Pray about things, but know that God is not one to punish. It’s okay if you’re hurting, you’re allowed. Do not follow in my footsteps like this. I’m not doing this because I hate you or I am selfish, I am doing this because I am very sick and it is a kind of sickness that I can only ever result in this, sooner or later. I’m choosing now. This is the only answer. I hope and pray with every single bit of me that it will not be your answer, but if it ever is, let the people you love know that you love them.

I love you, and I am sorry. Be good.