Witnessing the suicide

     The beginning of my mental health journey was New Year's 2009.  It was the day my life changed

forever.  From that day forward my life had a distinct before and after.  I had had a wonderful New

Year's Eve celebrating the holiday preparing to bring in the New Year until a great night turned

unbelievable.  My cousin's fiance was only a couple feet away from me when he put a gun up to his

head and pulled the trigger.  He was close enough I could've reached out and touched him.  It was the

single most traumatic event I had ever experienced and the most helpless I had felt in my life.

    That morning I was told I was handling it very well.  I remember just reacting.  I took his child out

of the house and waited until help arrived.  I was questioned by cops and detectives trying to see if I 

had murdered this man or if I was telling the truth.  I was told I handled it well in the weeks to come.  I

was more or less the strength of my family during an extremely difficult time.  I believe I may have 

been on antidepressants and sleeping pills occasionally leading up to this point in time.

    At that point of my life I was a teacher at a Catholic school.  I was not religious at all.  I wasn't even 

sure if I believed in God.  All I knew is I felt the most comfortable when I was with the kids at the 

school. I've always felt like it was God's way of protecting me through a very traumatic time looking

back on it.

    I recall for the first time in my life actually not only being willing to go, but wanting to go to the 

viewing.  I had to know if there was a heaven or a hell.  Seeing him in his casket and how peaceful he 

looked I knew there had to be a place better than this.  The last thing he saw was good.

    The week following the suicide, I met a very kind, understanding, supportive man.  He was one of 

the few people I communicated with at that time of my life.  Little did I know he would eventually 

become my husband, we'd have a child together, and he would turn out to be the love of my life.  I have

always given the credit to Ricky for meeting my husband.  It had to be him, God, or both, but I know

it was not a coincidence, especially because he asked me where my man was at the night before he

died.  My husband has been by my side helping me push through throughout my healing process.