It is often challenging to describe how a mother’s view of the world shifts after the suicide death of a child. Using metaphors, however, provides us with a tool to help us articulate the unfathomable. It also allows us to construct meaning, express our emotional burdens, and allow others to better understand our lived experiences.
Metaphor creation can be considered an act of artistic expression during life’s painful moments and it can also be a powerful learning tool for us to explore complex ideas. I find the use of metaphors especially beneficial while writing about my personal experiences and trying to construct meaning about my emotionally challenging life events. For example, my metaphor of the black and blue butterflies not only equipped me with words to describe my experience, but it also resonated in a significantly profound way with my fellow sisters-in-loss as it enabled them to make further meaning of our collective experience. (Barker, 2000; Brookfield, 2013; Fullagar & O’Brien, 2012; Lawrence, 2012)
Below are some metaphors of mothers who were willing to share what their new worldview looks like after the suicide death of their child. I invite you to construct your own metaphor that describes how you see the world now as a mother who has lost a child to suicide. There are no right or wrong approaches to this reflective exercise. If you wish to share your metaphor with this community, please complete the form below and I will add it to this page so your fellow Black and Blue Butterflies can read your reflections.
Death Row to Gratitude
Gail: I was numb for that first year. I used to say to people, “I feel like I’m sitting on death row waiting for my turn” because I just didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t know HOW I was supposed to FEEL or ACT. I didn’t know what was normal. I didn’t let anything OUT. I held WAY too much in for WAY too long. Now, I have a great appreciation for the SIMPLEST things. Whether it’s sitting outside or sitting in the kitchen at the table and looking outside and watching the squirrels and the birds eating. It’s just the simplest things – it is not a new purse or a pair of pants or something – it’s to watch the sunrise. I’m lucky that when I’m driving my bus in the morning, I’m driving towards the sun rising and the skies are so beautiful. And I just take those moments and I say, “Thank you God for being such a magnificent artist”. That’s how I try to look at things anymore – to be more optimistic about things.
Lighthouse Guide
Deb: It’s a lighthouse after the storm or even during the storm. The lighthouse represents shining a light of hope for others that may be going through the same thing, and to guide them safely to the harbor, in whatever way that is, whether it’s being part of a support group or getting them resources in whatever form that’s going to be the most help to them. Being an ear or shoulder. No one would voluntarily want to take this journey, but those that have lived through it and moved past it, can use it to make a difference in the lives of others. I feel as though that is why we went through, what we went through, to shine a light in the darkness for others and let them know there is a way and there will be brighter days ahead. And in those brighter days you will find yourself using your pain as fuel, fuel to make a difference. By giving parents a chance to talk about the children that they’ve lost, it’s a way of keeping them alive. They’re still here. It’s a way of honoring them.
Hell on Earth
Betsy: My metaphor would be – this is Hell on Earth. I think we ARE living in Hell. I know some people think this is Purgatory, I don’t think so. I think this is Hell for people that have been given this crap like we have. For who knows what reason. Just Hell on Earth. I thought I would have support because there are hundreds and hundreds of people that came to the funeral service and it’s like they come, they feel like they did their service and it’s done.
Dizzying Ride that Won’t Stop
Samantha: One of the things that I often say is, “I’m ready to get off the ride.” It is kind of like a merry-go-round that won’t stop. After he passed, I feel like it’s been like a never-ending ride …and I WANT TO GET OFF and I know I CAN’T get off. I don’t know how else to describe my life that is the only way I can SAY it. I know it is NEVER going to stop – the burden now of carrying this now for the rest of our lives. THAT’S what takes me to, “I’m ready to get off the ride.” You know some days I JUST can’t process it well. But I DO get up, I get dressed, I do my thing. I go to work. I have never really had so much of a hard time at work because he wasn’t with me at work, BUT it’s almost like I become this whole separate person. The second I’m walking out the door and get into my car, nothing has to happen, and all of a sudden I have a whole different emotion. You know, that happens again-nobody’s going to understand except another survivor. And it’s like reality sets back in. So, when I’m out at places I’m definitely a different person than what I am in my real world…a double life.
Uncharted Dark Cave
Gina: I feel like I was dropped into a dark cave with no lights and little hope for escape. I see other survivors as strong brave people who endured (are enduring) a journey that no one would voluntarily embark on in this mysterious underworld. I see myself as a seeker who makes discoveries (about myself and the experiences of others) and each time I discover something I light up part of the cave. I am resigned to the fact that I now live in this new place unseen by most people. But this once-dark world with its illuminated new view has the potential to offer a spectacular landscape created by the most amazingly brave individuals you will ever meet.
Construct Your Own Metaphor
If you wish to share your metaphor with this community, please complete the form below and I will add it to this page so your fellow Black and Blue Butterflies can read your reflections.