Bittersweet ice cream cones.

Flashback photo memories are a bittersweet gut punch every morning. I’ve considered ignoring them but I think it’s important, for me at least, to see the reminder, feel the feeling(s), and acknowledge both the joy and the grief that the photos bring me. 

Pete and I went on some incredible trips. There are a lot of photos. A LOT.  Right now I’m in the midst of the four year anniversary of our one month trip to Europe. We were going to go back next year for our ten year anniversary. 

What I’ve struggled with this week is this question: “How do you bail on a life that includes Trdelnik ice cream cones?” 

Obviously, it’s not just the cone. It’s the vacations, the ballgames, the family events, the quiet walks on the perfect spring evening when the clouds are so puffy and white they look like they were drawn by Pixar artists? How do you tap out of that life? How do you make that choice?

Then you remember that mental illness doesn’t give a shit about an ice cream cone. 

Prior even to his final eight, incredibly challenging, last weeks he frequently said he “didn’t matter to anyone” and that he “didn’t deserve” any love or kindness and that “no one would even care if he wasn’t around”. It didn’t matter what I said, or his therapist said, or anyone said, he simply had internalized that message so deeply in his core that he believed it. That belief of unworthiness, unlovability, probably came from his parents. They were dead before I was ever in Pete’s life so I’m just basing it on his stories. 

Overcoming toxic internal monologues is a hell of a lot of work. He could, sometimes, quash those voices. He would actively work to derail the thought, explore why it showed up in the first place, and then replace it with the truth. 

His truth was that, even with all of his challenges, he had a family that loved him and wanted the best for him, he had friends that enjoyed his weird personality, he had hundreds of current students that loved him, he had hundreds of past students that still loved him. He had so many things to look forward to; a second grand-baby on the way, trips to the beach, the NU-OU football game, another IronMan, Ireland…

All of that could not overcome his trifecta of mania/addiction/grief and he could just not get into the mode of reflection that was required to stop the spiral. It likely would have taken intense inpatient therapy which was something he very specifically said he would not do even though it was encouraged.

So, when I look at this flashback photo of a cinnamon dough cone surrounding the creamiest ice cream I’ve ever tasted, I’m choosing to remember the laughs we had that day when we boated under the Charles bridge, climbed a million steps to St. George’s Basilica, and elected for a second trdelnik ice cream cone instead of dinner. It was a splendid day. A day that I’m going to want to have flashbacks of for the rest of my life.

I think it’s important to remember those little things for me when life feels really heavy and, my goodness, it often feels very heavy right now. 

If you, or someone you know, is struggling with suicidal thoughts please know that the fact that Pete didn’t get or accept help does not mean there is not help to be had. Life is too full of adventure and beautiful things to bail out early. There is still ice cream to be had. There are so many people that will miss you. There are many incredible free resources out there to help in crisis. The National Suicide Prevention Hotline has people available 24/7: 1-800-273-8255.