Sunday Confessional: Coming Out of the Fog? Maybe.

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Sunday Confessional: Coming Out of the Fog? Maybe.

Trigger warning: Death and Suicide.

Heather says:

Hi.

I used to do the Sunday Confessional as a way to help remind everyone that no one’s life is television perfect. To remind you and myself that what we see on Facebook or wherever is just a snapshot and not the whole picture. To remind myself that we are often comparing our worst with another person’s best.

Life is hard.

Death is harder.

While in Atlanta in September, I took part in Erika Napoletano -someday I’ll learn to spell her name-’s closing keynote. I stood on a stage and said, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell the whole story, but I will someday.”

Monday, October 7, on Twitter, I told parts of Laura’s story that I hadn’t told in the post on organ and tissue donation.

I’m including it here because I promised I’d tell her story and I don’t want it to get completely lost in the ephemera that is Twitter.

I’m about to talk about the death of my sister. It may be a trigger (death/suicide), I will not be offended if you mute or unfollow for now.

— Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

Here is what I published about the death of my sister the day after: http://t.co/GHiLGbDmZ4 but there are many things I did not say. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

I am going to stick to the facts as I am sure a lawyer will see these tweets at some point. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

My sister broke her arm two days before the gunshot incident. Her, dominant, right arm was in a temporary cast / splint to her fingertips. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

My sister had a black eye -her left- that was not caused by the gunshot. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

My sister did not show up to work the two days prior to the incident. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

I missed a phone call from my mother who then messaged me via Facebook at 5:14am saying to [call now]. I did. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

I was TOLD she shot herself and was in an ambulance. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

Many phone calls were made and this portion of the story is confused as it took a while to figure out where she was. I knew I had to go. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

The chaplain spoke to my father and said that she was not expected to survive. I boarded a plane that afternoon. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

I remember the faces of the people who sat next to me in the airport bar and on the planes. They were all kind. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

I will never forget the orange of the sunset setting Mt. Ranier on fire as we flew into Seattle. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

I will not forget my inability to approach her hospital bed when I finally made it to St. Joseph’s. The sadness on my mother’s face. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

My stepsister died in May, I touched her hand once and that unnatural coldness is indelible in my sensory memory I was scared to touch Laura — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

And I sat down. Time stopped. My mom sobbed and encouraged me to touch her, talk to her, anything. I hadn’t seen her in 3 years. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

Hours passed -it could have been less time, but I can’t remember exactly- and her husband -estranged, showed up.

— Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

He said things about her that may have been true. Things that were humiliating and shaming, while holding her hand. He eventually left

— Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

I went to stay at a friend’s house. I’d been up for nearly 24 hours and I knew I couldn’t sleep at the hospital that night, though I would. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

The next evening while sitting vigil I received a message via facebook from someone with an alias [paraphrased] Are you her sister? — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

[still paraphrasing from the message] What happened wasn’t an accident. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

The husband displayed gang colors, having demanded Laura, my sister, buy specific shades of blue. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

I did not know who the messages on Facebook were from and I was scared. This is not a life I lead. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

The person sending the messages wanted me to meet him offsite as the hospital “was not safe for him.” — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

I refused. The hospital was safe for me. I have children, they come before my need for answers. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

We stood vigil with the husband showing up at times until Monday. When we got the second opinion that reaffirmed devasting brain trauma. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

In the state of Washington the spouse, even estranged, is next of kin. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

The gun used in the incident was stolen. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

My sister was once robbed at gunpoint and did not like guns. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

I had to be kind, we all did, because the final say of whether or not to terminate life support did not belong to us, but to the spouse. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

The story of how she passed is the one I shared on my site. Just know now, who was also in the room and the restraint that took. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

I asked the doctor to perform a pregnancy test. [I didn't know she had an IUD] We asked for an autopsy. The trauma doc made notes of this — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

I received a copy of her death certificate on Monday.

— Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

It says: Manner of death: SUICIDE Autopsy: NO Pregnancy status: UNKNOWN IF PREGNANT AT TIME OF DEATH

— Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

We did not know the autopsy was not performed and had her cremated. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

We held a memorial service in Tacoma, WA for her local friends. The spouse had a meeting with his parole officer and did not attend. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

I have questions I will never have answers to. I just needed to share, because you a saw a slice of the pain, if you followed at the time. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

I’m angry. I’m angry that our request for an autopsy was denied. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

It is entirely plausible that my sister committed suicide I am not saying anything else happened. I just wish, she had mattered to the state — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

I am thankful for my friends and family who have stood by me over the past month and longer. — Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

I am thankful to those of you who have held me when I cried and held the phone when they couldn’t be there in person.

— Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

I know the pain will always be there. I know the questions will always be there. I know that time will help.

— Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

I told a roomful of people that I was sorry for not having told the whole story, but that I would. And I have.

— Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

I have been talking with friends about my options fight this, at risk or take this and live successfully & start a foundation in her honor.

— Heather Solos (@HeatherSolos) October 7, 2013

My children have heard edited versions of both of my siblings’ deaths. They are too young for the full version and the edited version has something I wish I could shield them from. Both Erica and Laura made choices because they were too sad. Now they see me struggling with grief, anxiety, and depression and it is all I can do to reassure them that I will continue to fight this. Each morning as I take the medication I tell myself, I will get better, because I must.

I sleep with the light on, like a child, I’m afraid of the dark. It’s not the physical dark though, it’s that intangible darkness we all carry within us and somehow leaving a light on helps a little.

I don’t remember much of September outside of panic attacks and anxiety. The medication I’m on, because I will not lose this fight, really messes with my memory. I hate that. I used to feel intelligent and somewhat insightful. I used to be a fully functional adult and felt like I was ready to take on the world. Now, I get the musts done, but the shoulds have all fallen by the wayside, let’s not even talk about the wants.

One of my closest friends in the world also struggles with anxiety and is also facing huge life changes. To get through this, we have come up with the concept of “Adult Camp.” Please get your mind out of the gutter, it’s not a clothing optional kind of thing. We simply do things together that are overwhelming.

I know that some of you know these feelings, that sometimes, just going to Target for household items can feel impossible. We get through it together though. We have a list of things we have to do: log a few hours of work, make doctor appointments, make phone calls, refill prescriptions, go to the store. . . things that used to be simple that no longer are. Our refrain, as we accomplish stupid, menial tasks that used to be easy is, “We did it, like grown ups!”

I tell you this, knowing I sound weak and ridiculous.

I no longer care.

This has been a humbling experience.

We are all broken in our own ways, some of us are very good at hiding that broken, but sometimes compensating is the least healthy choice.

Those of you who have reached out to me in the past six weeks or so, with letters, cards, emails, and yes, even the hugs, I can never thank you enough.

I’ll be Heather again someday, not quite yet, but there are days where I see a glimpse of myself and that encourages me to continue forward, in this robotic shuffle that gets me through these days.

I had my first good day since August 22 last Tuesday. It ended with a flat tire, someone I barely know picking my children up from after school care, and my accidentally swiping a tire iron from a really nice teenager. I’m sorry, Alex, if I had any idea of how to find you, I’d totally return the tire iron. Somehow through all of that mess, I didn’t cry or just go to bed.

And that gives me hope that there will be more good days. Days where I can handle more than the musts and maybe start in on the shoulds. (Writing here is a should).

Home-Ec101.com isn’t going away and neither will I. Thank you for your patience and sticking around despite the lack of updates.