It may seem counterintuitive, but living with suicidal thoughts has profoundly shaped me into a more compassionate parent for my son. This realization, surprisingly, has only just dawned on me.
For over fifteen years, navigating life with constant suicidal ideation has been a journey through countless doctors, various therapies, and a shifting landscape of diagnoses. While I anticipate the inevitable armchair diagnoses and unsolicited advice in the comments – yes, I’ve tried yoga and kale smoothies, thank you for your concern – the undeniable truth remains: Constant Suicidal Ideation is my reality. The hope for its eventual disappearance fuels my ongoing efforts in therapy and self-care.
The intersection of parenthood and suicidal thoughts is undeniably daunting. Yet, I’ve come to understand a crucial parallel: just as merely thinking about exercise won’t lead to weight loss, suicidal ideation alone doesn’t equate to acting on those thoughts. This distinction, though stark, offers a strange comfort and a vital reminder when grappling with these persistent thoughts. The real danger to my son lies not in the thoughts themselves, but in succumbing to them.
This begs the question: can there be any positive outcome from such a challenging condition? The answer, I’ve discovered through parenting, is a resounding yes. The part of my brain that can escalate to suicidal thoughts in moments is, in essence, a distressed inner child craving specific responses. The very strategies I employ to manage this condition are the very tools I aim to equip my son with to flourish in life.
While “The Suicidal Parent’s Guide for Raising a Child” might not become a bestseller, perhaps it should. Such a guide would reveal that when a child is overwhelmed with frustration, simply telling them to “calm down,” however gently, pales in comparison to acknowledging the validity of their feelings. Understanding that frustration is a natural catalyst for identifying what we want to change to enhance our lives is a far more powerful message.
Resilience, a current parenting buzzword, is another key lesson. For someone whose brain often urges self-destruction, resilience isn’t just a concept; it’s a survival mechanism. It’s about teaching ourselves and our children: “This is scary, but I believe in your ability to handle it.”
Perhaps the most profound lesson from living with suicidal ideation is the eradication of shame surrounding emotions. Instead of questioning a child’s sadness with “Oh no, why are you sad?”, a more empathetic approach is to say, “I will sit with you while you’re sad; we can even moan together.” This acceptance of all emotions, without judgment, is crucial for fostering emotional well-being.
For a long time, I viewed this condition as a curse, and I hesitate to label it a blessing. However, I acknowledge the profound lessons embedded within such curses. They teach us self-care and cultivate deep empathy for others. And isn’t empathy the very cornerstone of parenting? My ability to parent, to guide and nurture my son, is intrinsically linked to my commitment to staying alive, to continually choosing life despite the darkness.
This perspective, born from personal struggle, forms the basis of what could be called “The Creator Parents Guide” – a guide built not on perfect solutions, but on lived experience, resilience, and profound compassion nurtured in the face of adversity. It’s a guide that understands that sometimes, our greatest challenges can forge us into more empathetic and effective parents.
