A Devotional
When we have a trauma happen in our lives we don’t always open up, in an intimate way, to others about that trauma. Therapy seems to be the one place where we are meant to do this. However, there are times that it’s appropriate to share your experience, especially when you’re faced with the possibility of helping someone else.
Shannon works at an out patient clinic and sees kids of all ages. Mostly for sick visits but has the occasional emergency room follow up. Since COVID hit a lot of those have been mental health related. Kids struggling with mental health issues have increased ten fold since the lock down. Something Shannon knows all too well.
On the schedule today is a teen coming in for a suicide attempt follow up. Shannon is instantly anxious. Hoping that she can stay professional and do her job without falling apart. Teens this age have such an effect on her now. The fact that none of them really get it. They don’t understand what their actions do to those around them, especially their parents.
The parents they leave behind. The ones who never fully recover and continue to move through life shattered and broken. Slowly fading away without anyone noticing.
When teens with mental health issues come in to see the providers they can come with a whole spectrum of things. Complete shut downs that don’t want to talk, that aren’t taking care of their daily hygiene; flamboyant and talkative ones that you’d never know had issues, cutters, exhibitionists that are showing way too much skin at way too young and age trying to deflect from the real problem, the angry ones, and then the ones like Alexis. The ones who show no signs at all.
After several littles have come and gone, stickers given after vaccines were administered Shannon sees that the teen in question has arrived. She takes a deep breath and calls a pretty 14 year old girl and her mother back to the exam room. After taking vitals she begins to obtain some history. Finding out that that the child had taken too many pills, several days prior, in a failed suicide attempt but had just disclosed this to her parents.
As Shannon is charting all of this information her ears begin to buzz and the room starts to sway, almost as if she’s going to faint. She recognizes the signs as the beginning of a panic attack, but she quickly takes a few deep breaths that slow her heart rate and return her senses. Then she feels something different, an overwhelming urge to speak bluntly to this hurting family.
Shannon turns to her patient and asks her if she can share something with them? Looking at her Mom, they both agree. Shannon then begins to share her story in the hopes that something will touch this girl and change her trajectory.
“I need to tell you something. I don’t know if you already know this, because I’ve been your nurse for a long time, but I lost my daughter, Alexis, a couple years ago….to suicide. Unlike your mom, I had no warning signs. I just woke up one day and she was gone. So please hear me when I tell you that nothing that’s going on right now in your life is harder than your mom losing you. Nothing you have to tell her, can’t be said out loud. There’s nothing that you both can’t work out, work on, or work through. Because if you choose to leave this life, and leave her behind, it will completely destroy her. Her life will be completely shattered.”
As a silent tear fell down Shannon’s face, the mom jumped up to hug her, weeping. The girl looked almost ashamed, and yet contemplative. Shannon hugs the mom back, comforting her, looks to the child and says again “Please talk to your mom because you are so loved.” the child nods, a tear escaping from her eye also. “Doctor will be right in guys.”
Oh no, what had she done? Should she have said anything? She had to get away from people, she couldn’t breathe…she runs into an empty exam room. Her breathing increases, she is now weeping so hard, feeling her grief reaching a level it hasn’t been in for weeks. Because even after two years, it never leaves. It’s always there like a monster in a closet, waiting for you to forget and leave the door open. Because you can never stop missing your baby. But should she have said anything, did she cross a line? Did she just make it worse? Were they going to lodge a complaint? Was her provider going to give her hell for saying something and sharing her personal life with their patients? Especially one so fragile?
Breathe….breathe….in the nose, out the mouth, get control. She hears someone come in…it’s Kimmy, her work bestie. She doesn’t even hear her talk but she responds to whatever she says. Then the door closes.
Shannon pulls herself together. She has to finish her day. But before she goes back to “normal” she puts up a prayer.
“Lord, I don’t know if you were speaking to my heart or if it was Alexis but please place your healing hand on this child. Help her in a way that I didn’t know to ask for my baby. Help her to seek the help she needs to heal and overcome Satan’s hold on her brain. Help her mother to be her guiding light and strength. In your name, Amen”
Shannon returns to her day feeling lighter and yet still with the weight of grief but knowing that no matter the outcome, she was meant to cross paths with that parent and that child today. She can only hope and pray that her words had some small impact and that another mom didn’t join her group of shattered parents.
We often hold back when it comes to sharing personal trauma stories for so many reasons. I would urge you to reconsider this when you feel compelled to share. I truly feel this is a sign that the person in front of you would benefit in some way from what you have to say. Follow your heart as you never know who you could impact.
Verses
“For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you might follow in his steps.” 1 Peter 2:21
“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.” Isaiah 43:2
Disclaimer: There are elements of true events in this story, however names and context have been changed to protect those involved. The message remains the same.
My Journey’s My Own 
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