Hi, my name is Jessica and I am now an expert in something I never wanted to have any experience in.
If you are new here, this is a portion of my life story that has shaped my adult life.
In November 2021, my husband of four years died by suicide. The world of my then-2-year-old son and I were irrevocably flipped upside down. As the local newspaper’s editor at the time, I used writing as a way to share pieces of our story and to connect with our community in the days, weeks and months that followed.
While I was open and honest from the beginning about the struggles of my son’s father leading up to his suicide, it took me nine months to explicitly share in black and white that I was a suicide loss survivor. Since then, I have not shied away from it but have embraced it as part of our purpose to share the 988 hotline, to encourage people to ask for help and seek therapy, and to urge people to take mental health issues — especially in men and boys — seriously.
A November 2021 post after the funeral:
Please know that if you are struggling through an unseen battle, you are not alone. Lean on your tribe. I know I have been.
Also, I cannot put into words how much it meant to see everyone who came out to support us at the funeral home…I know we will continue to have your support as we walk this journey we never imagined we would have to take.
A March 2022 post, shared as an update after we moved into our new home:
In my experience, the concept of achieving closure while grieving is oversimplified.
Sure, time can heal some wounds but the act of closing one chapter in favor of the next one is a process that takes purposeful movement — every day, over and over again. Some things in life you don’t just “get over,” and they become part of your story. And, whether you like it or not, these things become part of you.
So you make your own hope when you can’t find it staring out the window for hours on end. You force yourself to put one foot in front of the other, even when it feels like you are wearing concrete shoes through quicksand blindfolded. You write your own rule book because no amount of schooling, adulting or advice can ever prepare you for life experiences you never asked for. You do the next right thing, as Anna sings in Frozen II. Because your future and that of your tiny human depend on it.
I share this in an effort to normalize this process in a society that expects you to just dust off your boot straps, pull yourself up and trudge forward — when some days, it’s a major success that you just made it out the door.
But in the same vein as closure and healing and new beginnings, today I closed on the home Allen proudly owned since 2006. It was bittersweet to sign over the property that we brought Finn home to, and I know it will make a lovely home for its next family.
We continue to settle into our new home and routine, and we will take with us all the good memories of the last chapter and weave them into what’s to come. We will continue to live with precise intention and our sights set on all the good things on the horizon. It’s a day-by-day journey with some speed bumps, but we won’t give up.
We could not have reached this point without so many of you, and thank you will never be enough.
To my parents, who gave us a safe place to live for months without hesitation, and who continue to show up without hesitation. We are forever indebted to you, Mamaw and Papaw. To our friends who helped us move, gave me a shoulder to cry on, continue to check on us, or provide me with helpful distractions just when they are needed. To my family, who always has my back, no questions asked, except for “When?” and “Where?” To my boss and co-workers, who love on Finn like family and understand when I’ve had to miss work to be a single parent or to get through the infinite to-do list or because I just can’t do as much as I used to. To my therapist, who is helping me process my trauma. To our daycare, which is Finn’s second home. To the many professionals in the community who helped me with the funeral, headstone creation, insurance, the estate, the auctions, storage, becoming a first-time homebuyer, buying appliances, financial matters and figuring out all the things I didn’t have to know about before four months ago. THANK YOU.
The next chapter has just begun, and I’m glad you are all along for the journey.
Posted in August 2022 after getting matching semicolon tattoos with two close friends. It was the first time I assigned myself with the title “suicide loss survivor.”
*TW* A semicolon is used in place of a period when the author chooses to continue a sentence instead of end it. The author is you and the story is your life. — Project Semicolon // A much-needed ink therapy session went down today with some amazing friends. Because my story neither ends nor is defined by gaining the title “suicide loss survivor,” becoming a single mom of a toddler and being widowed at age 31 all in an instant 9 months ago. A daily reminder that I’m much more than that can’t hurt.
Shared in November 2022 for the first anniversary:
I feel like I ran a marathon straight up a mountain these past 365 days. It is bittersweet to have reached this milestone. Some days we are thriving and some days we are surviving but every day we are healing. Even on the hard days I’m forever grateful to have the chance to live the big moments, the little moments and everything in between. Thanks for being on this journey with me! Hug a loved one and enjoy some family time like we are this weekend.
For the second anniversary, I created a social media reel with the following caption. The script of the reel can be found in my upcoming book of prose titled “Living in Color.”
Real and raw post incoming. I spent some time putting this together because it was therapeutic, and then I almost didn’t share it. Thankful to be at this point in our journey, and I’m proud of how this little retrospective turned out, so I’m hitting “share.”
This past year of grief has been different from the first year, in a lot of ways better and in a lot of ways worse.
How do you talk to your 4-year-old about adult topics like mental health and alcohol abuse? How do you help your kid grow up feeling less different because one of his parents is gone? How do you send him off into the world when you can only hope the world is kind in return?
We continue to take it one day at a time. I appreciate every single person who stands alongside us on this journey every day. You are the reason I am able to stand on such solid ground two years later.
2024 is a big year. It would have been Allen’s 40th birthday and our son started school in the fall.
In April, I started processing my trauma and grief through prose. My therapist had been encouraging me to write it all out for years; it just took the right inspiration. I’ve been greatly inspired by the work of Rupi Kaur, Noelle Rousseau, Yung Pueblo, Taylor Swift and David Grohl in my writing process this year.
“Living in Color” will be self-published by the early fall 2024.
Jessica Williams Bricker 