Tiny Buddha

Tag: fault

  • Why I Blamed Myself for My Ex’s Suicide (and Why It’s Not My Fault)

    Why I Blamed Myself for My Ex’s Suicide (and Why It’s Not My Fault)

    “No amount of guilt can change the past and no amount of worrying can change the future.” ~Umar Ibn Al Khattab

    I don’t remember the exact day the message came through. It was from my son, Julian, and he needed to talk to me. It sounded pretty serious. He never really needs to talk to me.

    His father was found dead earlier that week. He’d hung himself.

    While this news hardly affected Julian at all, it hit me like a ton of bricks, and I cried.

    Our Marriage

    We met in a taxi thirty-three years ago. He was the driver, I was a drunk passenger. He was super handsome and flirty. He brought me home, and we exchanged numbers and instantly began a relationship.

    Within six months of dating, I found out I was pregnant. Since I didn’t want to be an unwed mother, we were married within a month and began our lives. We both had good jobs. I worked at a bank, he was an HVAC technician. Life was pretty good in the beginning.

    Then his job took us to a different city. We moved and for the first time in my life, I was alone with no friends and no family. I was twenty-six years old. Our marriage was okay, and we got along well.

    About six months after we moved to this new city, he started coming home later and later from work, some nights not until 2am. He always told me he had to work late. I believed him. He was on call a lot. I was home alone a lot.

    A few months later I made the decision to return to our hometown. He was to find a job there, which wouldn’t be hard. I didn’t want to be alone in this big city anymore, and I was just about to give birth. I wanted my family around.

    Life After Our Move

    We stayed at my parents’ house when we returned, and within a month had found our own apartment.

    He found a job almost instantly, and I delivered Julian two days after we got home. Life was going well.

    About a year into our lives with the baby, things started to get bad. He was out “working late” an awful lot. He would come home around two or three in the morning, smelling of alcohol. By the time Julian was eighteen months I had had enough and asked him to leave. This wasn’t the life I wanted for my son.

    He moved out and for the next six months, my life was a living hell. He would come over drunk at night, force sex on me, threaten to take my baby away from me, threaten to kill us both. He threatened me almost daily. Many nights I’d stay at a friend’s house just to feel safe. Many times the police were called.

    He finally moved out of province, and it was years before we heard from him again.

    The Divorce Agreement

    The day had come to file for divorce and put this whole marriage nightmare behind me. I filed for sole custody with no visitation allowed to him. He was unstable, dangerous, and violent, and I was not taking any chances with my son. The fact that he lived far enough away was my saving grace.

    Also stated in the divorce agreement was no child support payments. I wanted to completely cut all ties with this man. So I did just that.

    Twelve Years Later

    It may have been longer, maybe thirteen or fourteen years later, we received a package from him via his brother. It was sent to Julian. A picture of himself and a silver chain with a St. Christopher pendant.

    It meant nothing to Julian. He didn’t even know who this person was. I questioned his gesture. Was he trying to make amends? Was he trying to prove that maybe he’d changed and he wanted to start a relationship with his son?

    I never got the answer to any of those questions. He never reached out again after that.

    When my son moved away to university, he lived only a couple of hours away from his father. He made an attempt through his uncle to maybe meet up with his dad, but his dad wasn’t interested and declined the offer.

    And life simply carried on.

    Every now and then, throughout the years, Julian’s uncle would update us on what his father was doing and how he was doing. It seemed alcohol and depression were major parts of his life.

    I couldn’t help but feel responsible for this.

    Was he depressed because I took his only child away from him? Was this my fault? Whenever we got another update, I just felt guilty. Did I do this to him?

    The Call

    When I got the call, I was in complete shock. I had no idea his depression was that bad. How would I have known? Were there other factors that played a part in his suicide? Or was it just years of anguish knowing he had a son who was never a part of his life… because of me?

    Could this have been prevented if his son had been a part of his life? Did I do this??

    I cried for a week. I had never felt so much sorrow, and guilt. SO much guilt. Was I responsible for someone’s suicide?

    Dealing with My Grief and Guilt

    It took me a while to wrap my head around his suicide. It also took me a while to convince myself I was not responsible for it, nor should I feel guilty about it. I didn’t talk to anyone about this. No one would understand my feelings, and they were hard to explain.

    I realized, though, that he had been battling demons that had nothing to do with me. I made the best choice for my son, and that was the most important thing to me.

    He had made his choices as well. And I had nothing to do with them. Me not allowing him any visitation to his son was a result of his actions and choices. He chose his behavior. Not me. I chose to not have his behavior damage my child.

    I had to talk myself through that. It’s not your fault, Iva. He could have chosen to change his life, improve his life, reach out to his son more often, anything. And he chose not to.

    It’s not your fault, Iva.

    There is a tiny part of me inside that wishes things would have been different. If only he got help for his depression and alcoholism. If only he could have been a part of Julian’s life. If only he could have tried to help himself.

    I’m sorry his life ended so tragically. I’ll always feel sorry for that. But I won’t feel guilty about it anymore.

    It’s Not Our Fault

    It’s so easy to take responsibility for a loved one’s suicide, especially when you set a hard boundary for your own well-being. “If only I had done this or done that” or “if only I would have not done that,” but the reality is, it’s not our fault.

    We are not in control of how people think, act, react, or live their lives. We can only control our own lives. What people do with their own life is out of our hands. We can offer them tools and help, but it’s up to them to accept it and/or use it.

    If they don’t, that’s not our fault either. It’s easy to think that we should have/could have done more, but we did as much as we could. The rest was up to them.

  • When You Lose a Loved One to Suicide: Healing from the Guilt and Trauma

    When You Lose a Loved One to Suicide: Healing from the Guilt and Trauma

    “You will survive, and you will find purpose in the chaos. Moving on doesn’t mean letting go.” ~Mary VanHaute

    I was ten years old when I discovered the truth. He didn’t fall. He wasn’t pushed. It wasn’t an accident.

    He jumped.

    Suicide isn’t a concept easily explained to a six-year-old, much less her younger siblings, so I grew up believing that my father’s drowning was an unfortunate freak accident. It was “just one of those things,” the cruel way of the world, and there was nothing anyone could have done about it.

    This explanation more than satisfied me and, other than a fear of open water and a slight pang of sadness whenever he was mentioned, I suffered no grievous trauma for the rest of my early childhood.

    But at ten years old I learnt the truth—that it wasn’t some divine entity or ill-fated catastrophe that took him from me. He had, in fact, ripped himself from the earth and left everyone he loved behind. Left me behind.

    Was it something I did?

    That’s the first question I asked.

    “Of course not,” my mother said. “He was just sad.”

    The idea that suicide was a simple cure for sadness became the first of many dangerous cognitive distortions I adopted. It would take no more than a dropped ice-cream cone or trivial friendship fall-out for me to declare my sadness overwhelming, to the point where, at the age of eleven, I drank a whole bottle of cough medicine in the belief that it would kill me.

    I was sad, I said, just like him. And if he could do it, why couldn’t I?

    As I grew into my teenage years, the possibility that I was the driving force behind my father’s suicide began to plague me, albeit subconsciously. I reasoned that the bullies at school hated me so, naturally, my father must have hated me too.

    Maybe I wasn’t smart enough or polite enough. Maybe I was unlovable. Maybe everyone I loved would leave me eventually.

    This pattern of thinking would slowly poison my mind, laying the foundations for what would later become borderline personality disorder. I suffered from intense fears of abandonment, codependency, emotional instability, and suicidal ideation, believing that I was an innately horrible person who drove people away.

    I refused to talk about my problems and allowed them to fester, harboring so much anger, guilt, shame, and sadness that eventually it would erupt out of me. It was only in my mid-twenties that I realized just how deeply my father’s suicide had affected me and the course of my whole life.

    I sought help and, slowly, I began to heal.

    Coping with The Stigma

    “Mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of, but stigma and bias shame us all.” ~Bill Clinton.

    Selfishness, cowardice, and damnation are toxic convictions that permeate the topic of suicide, adding to the anger, guilt, shame, and isolation that survivors feel. Growing up, I hid the truth of how my father died under fear of judgment or ridicule, scared that the knowledge would not only tarnish his humanity, but paint me with the same black brush.

    I still remember the words of a girl in high school, “Well, you shouldn’t feel sorry for people who do it, it was their choice after all.”

    Understanding the intricacies of mental illness and just how destructively they can distort the mind allowed me to come to terms with my father’s death. I was able to accept that his suicide was born not out of selfish weakness, but from lengthy suffering and pain, carried out by a mind that was consumed by darkness and void of the ability to think rationally.

    Letting Go of The Need for Answers

    “Why?”

    It is a question that only the person who took their life can answer—but they often leave us without any sense of understanding. In the absence of a detailed note or some definitive explanation we find ourselves trapped in an endless spiral of rumination, speculating, criticizing, and self-blaming, to no avail.

    It becomes a grievance, a desperate yearning for closure that weighs heavily on our hearts. After all, not only did they leave us, but they left us in the dark.

    It is completely natural to want an answer to the question of “why.” We feel as though an answer will provide closure, which in turn will ease our confusion, pain, and guilt. However, because there is usually no singular reason for a suicide attempt, we will always be left with questions that will go unanswered.

    Fully accepting that I was never going to get the answers I craved freed me from the constant rumination of “why.”

    Releasing the Guilt

    To quote Jeffery Jackson, “Human nature subconsciously resists so strongly the idea that we cannot control all the events of our lives that we would rather fault ourselves for a tragic occurrence than accept our inability to prevent it.”

    As survivors, we tend to magnify our contributing role to the suicide, tormenting ourselves with “what if’s,” as though the antidote to their pain lay in our pockets.

    We feel guilty for not seeing the signs, even when there were no signs to see. We feel guilty for not being grateful enough or attentive enough, for not picking up the phone or pushing harder when they said, “I’m fine.” Even as a child I felt an overwhelming guilt, wondering whether I could have prevented my father’s suicide simply by saying please-and-thank-you more often than I had.

    It wasn’t my fault. And it isn’t yours either.

    The truth is that we cannot control the actions of others, nor can we foresee them. Sometimes there are warning signs, sometimes there are not, but it is an act that often defies prediction. It is likely that we did as much as we could with the limited knowledge we had at the time.

    Healing takes acceptance, patience, self-exploration, and a lot of forgiveness as you navigate your way through a whirlwind of emotions. However, there is a light at the end of the tunnel of grief. Although we may never fully move on from the suicide of a loved one, in time we will realize that they were so much more than the way in which they died.

    To quote Darcie Sims, “May love be what you remember most.”

  • 39 Supportive Things to Say to a Male Survivor of Sexual Assault

    39 Supportive Things to Say to a Male Survivor of Sexual Assault

    “One in six men will be sexually assaulted at some point in their life. It doesn’t make us weak or less masculine—nor should it. Rather, we, as men, should encourage other men to speak up, to be courageous, share this burden with others, and to attend therapy and take medication. There is such a thing as healthy masculinity, and we can find that in our fellow men, in comforting those who are having a rough time. Seeking help in a healthy way, wanting to be better, practicing empathy and compassion and caring for each other are ways of practicing healthy masculinity.” ~Anonymous

    Why is it that men are less likely to be supported than female survivors of sexual assault? No matter a person’s gender or sexual orientation, all survivors deserve love and support.

    In 2013, I became an activist for survivors of sexual assault. I was living in New York City, and my method for getting the message out was through chalk art. To reclaim my voice after the NYPD threw out my sexual assault case, I went all over Brooklyn and Manhattan scribbling chalk art messages about consent.

    Since then, I have done thousands of chalk art drawings all over the world, from Europe to South Africa. Using art as a tool of activism has been an extremely powerful way of reaching millions with an important message: It’s time to replace the current rape culture that we live in with a culture of consent.

    It’s a common notion that it’s impossible for a male to be raped. Male survivors who speak up are often met with the response, “How can a boy get raped?” The answer is, if he does not give his consent, it’s rape.

    It doesn’t matter if the rapist was male, female, or any other gender identity. If he denies consent, it’s rape. Any person of any gender can be raped.

    Imagine how hard it is for a woman to speak up and report a rape. That difficulty is doubled for men because the patriarchal concept that “men cannot be raped” ruins any hope for male survivors to get the support they deserve. This concept totally dismisses the real-life experiences of millions of men who actually have been sexually assaulted.

    For fear of not being believed, it’s fair to assume that millions of men hide in silence. Very few heal or recover due to the stigma of male rape.

    Men’s stories matter. Men’s healing is just as important as healing for others. When men heal, the whole world heals, because the world is still run by men.

    Suicide rates are often higher in males because so many of them fail to express their emotions due to the patriarchal concept that crying is a sign of weakness, particularly in men.

    When a man is seen crying, he is often told to “man up.” Due to fear of being called weak, men hold in all their tears instead of releasing them.

    Shaming men and boys out of crying is mental torture for those who truly wish to express themselves. Men who have been raped should be uplifted in their healing, however they see fit. If their healing includes shedding a tear for all the pain they endured, it is their right to do so.

    Here are thirty-nine uplifting messages for male rape survivors.

    1. Your pain is valid.

    2. The person who did this to you is the only person to blame, not yourself.

    3. You are not less of a man for being sexually assaulted.

    4. Being a survivor does not define who you are as a man.

    5. A survivor is anything but weak.

    6. Don’t be afraid to talk about it.

    7. Never blame yourself.

    8. Things will get better.

    9. You are so incredibly strong.

    10. I’m proud of you!

    11. You are not alone.

    12. What you are going through is temporary.

    13. You are loved.

    14. You’ll see the light one day and be happy again, I promise!

    15. You have many people who believe and support you.

    16. You are worthy of love and respect.

    17. You don’t need to feel ashamed.

    18. Talking about it to someone you trust will help.

    19. You are heard.

    20. You are valid.

    21. You don’t have to be strong all the time.

    22. It’s okay to cry.

    23. You’re safe to express your emotions.

    24. Some days may be better than others, but you will get there.

    25. You will grow and survive this current pain.

    26. We support you.

    27. Even if you had an erection, you still weren’t “asking for it.”

    28. Even if you had an orgasm, if you didn’t want it, it was rape.

    29. We applaud you and your courage.

    30. Feel the pain instead of numbing it.

    31. You gotta feel it to heal it.

    32. You’re still manly and I adore you.

    33. Tears are a sign of strength.

    34. The sickness of another is not your burden to bear.

    35. Being a victim is difficult, but in time you will heal.

    36. There are people out there that love you and are willing to listen to you (including me).

    37. Keep staying alive. There is so much to live for.

    38. You are brave for admitting what happened.

    39. We are in this together.

    The idea that men cannot get raped is perpetuated by the false belief that all men want is sex, every hour of the day. While I was doing #StopRapeEducate chalk art in New York City in Union Square one day, a young, Afro-Latino couple stopped to read the message I was writing: “Rape knows no gender.”

    The girl looked puzzled and asked me what it meant. I told her that it means anyone can get raped, whether they are a male or a female.

    She burst into laughter and said, “A guy…. hahaha…get raped?! Ha! How is that even possible? Shit, I’m sure they would love that. That’s every guy’s dream.”

    I gave her the straight-face-emoji-look and said, “Actually, that’s not true. Men who get raped are traumatized just as much as female victims. I’ve met tons of guys who have been raped. It’s a serious problem.” She straightened up quickly.

    Men have freewill to decide if they want to have sex or not. If you are someone who dates men, it’s important to accept that the men in your life may not always be in the mood to do it, and that’s okay.

    Before I understood this, in my younger years, I recall pressuring myself to be readily available for sex with guys. I would even go as far as to pounce on them, thinking that that’s what they wanted. I had seen it a million times in movies as a way of women initiating sex: no questions asked, just pounce.

    One of my friends that I used to hook up with told me once that he was tired of my sexual advances. I felt so ashamed and disgusted with myself because I was caught up in stereotypes about male sexuality that I gave myself to someone that didn’t have interest in me.

    This is why sexual education is so important. It’s unacceptable for us to learn about sex from movies, television, and porn.

    The reality is, men and boys are not sex machines. Nobody is. It’s always okay to say no to sex, and it’s never acceptable to assume that someone wants to do it.

    To create a safer, more loving world for all of us, let us respect and support male survivors of sexual assault rather than reinforcing toxic masculinity rooted in rape culture.

  • 44 Things to Never Say to a Rape Survivor

    44 Things to Never Say to a Rape Survivor

    “It was not your fault, even if you were drunk, even if you were wearing a low-cut mini-dress, even if you were out walking alone at night, even if you were on a date with the rapist and kind of liked him but didn’t want to have sex with him.” ~Joanna Connors

    Child sexual abuse victims who speak up are incredibly brave and vulnerable. If a child comes to you for support, be mindful of your energy and reactions. If you need to ask them questions to get a better understanding, be mindful of your tone, body language, and intonation.

    When I experienced sexual assault at the age of thirteen, I didn’t tell anyone because I was afraid that I would be punished.

    I grew up in a home where I was trained to not show too much skin and to always avoid the male gaze. The day I was raped, I was wearing a skirt. I knew that, somehow, I would be blamed and punished, so I stayed quiet.

    As an adult, I learned through spirituality that I needed to change how I viewed rape survivors and myself. None of us “asked for it.”

    When addressing a rape survivor, it’s important to use consent-oriented etiquette and language. There are a variety of words and phrases you should never say.

    Be gentle with sexual assault survivors. Rape is a delicate and triggering topic. If someone comes to you for help, ask them what they need and if there is anything you can do for them.

    Listen. Check in on them.

    Look past your judgments of the situation and just be there to support them as best you can. Be sure to take care of yourself and your energy while helping others.

    Typically, I would only ask questions if you need to. Some people do not wish to share details of a traumatic experience. This is understandable.

    If you are required to ask some of the following questions for an investigation, be sensitive to your tone. Avoid judgment and any phrases that sound judgmental.

    It can even be helpful to say, “Rape is never the victim’s fault. I just need to ask you a few questions to get a better picture of what happened. Is that okay with you?”

    Only say what needs to be said. Only ask what needs to be asked. You may want to dig deeper, but you might end up saying the wrong thing and retraumatizing them further.

    Rape survivors need to be heard.

    How would you want to be treated if you went to someone for help? Give them the most compassion and unconditional love you can channel from your innermost being.  That’s the best way to support them.

    To shift from our current rape culture and into a culture of consent, we must change the mindless, go-to reactions that we have toward victims of sexual abuse.

    Why is it common to ask, “Was she drunk?” Why do people inquire about what someone was wearing at the time of a sexual assault?

    It’s common because society has taught us to judge instead of love. In a culture of consent, the mindset is different.

    In a culture of consent, we know that it doesn’t matter if someone was drinking. No one deserves rape.

    In a culture of consent, there is less blame and more compassion. Compassion is key when it comes to creating a culture of consent.

    Compassion in a culture of consent means extending unconditional love to sexual assault survivors. We can no longer live as we are as a society. The time for change is now.

    To implement this cultural shift, we can only start with ourselves, our thoughts, and our reactions toward rape survivors.

    I created the following list to help you take one major step in that direction.

    44 Things to NEVER Say to a Rape Survivor

    1. What were you wearing?

    2. Were you drunk?

    3. How did it happen? (Ask them if they are comfortable with sharing what happened. Listen mindfully and don’t oversteer their story. Respect how they share their story. Refrain from interrupting so they know they have the freedom to express themselves. This question is only necessary for law enforcement officials and healthcare professionals who are required to know the details in order to help the survivor.)

    4. Did you scream?

    5. Why didn’t you scream?

    6. You really need to get a gun.

    7. I know a self-defense class that you should go to.

    8. Your outfit was very sexy.

    9. How could that happen to you, again?

    10. Did you say “no”?

    11. Did you fight back?

    12. You’ve already had sex, so, what’s the difference?

    13. You’re a guy, you’re supposed to like it.

    14. Rape is every guy’s dream. (A girl said this to me while I was making consent-based chalk art in NYC in 2015.)

    15. How can a girl rape a boy?

    16. Rape can’t happen during marriage.

    17. There’s no use in crying about it.

    18. You need to let go of your anger.

    19. Are you sure it was rape?

    20. Weren’t you dating?

    21. Why didn’t you get a rape kit?

    22. Have you had sex since?

    23. You should have yelled “fire.”

    24. Why haven’t you reported it?

    25. I thought you liked him/her/them.

    26. It’s your fault.

    27. You shouldn’t have gone with them.

    28. You were asking for it.

    29. You attracted that.

    30. You led them on.

    31. That’s not rape.

    32. That was sex. You could have avoided it.

    33. You should have protected yourself.

    34. You shouldn’t have been out late.

    35. You shouldn’t have been drinking.

    36. You shouldn’t have gone to that party.

    37. That would never happen to me.

    38. You’re smarter than that.

    39. Stop putting yourself in situations like that.

    40. It could be worse.

    41. Get over it.

    42. It’s not that big of a deal.

    43.  I hope you learned your lesson.

    44. There are some things you could have done differently.

    Instead of blaming or shaming someone who has been traumatized, hold back those thoughts. Focus only on how you can be a friend to them in their time of need. If they came to you for help, it means that they trusted you.

    Spirituality helped me see my power and the importance of my voice. It taught me to have compassion for myself and fellow survivors. Sexual assault recovery can be catapulted when the rape survivor has a loving, supportive team of people who they can go to in times of need.

    How can you create this type of safe space for the sexual assault survivors in your life? How can you create this safe space for yourself?

  • When You’re About to Find Fault

    When You’re About to Find Fault

    Finding Fault

    Source: Enchanting Minds

  • Accepting Blame and Asking for Forgiveness

    Accepting Blame and Asking for Forgiveness

    Screen shot 2013-01-13 at 11.31.46 PM

    “Never ruin an apology with an excuse.” ~Kimberly Howard

    As a kid I was quite often “långsur.” Långsur is a Swedish expression for being grumpy for a long time. Every time someone was mean to me, I sulked for hours, even days. This became quite tedious at times, especially since as soon as I became happy again, some new event triggered me to sulk again.

    You get the picture.

    I simply had such a hard time forgiving people.

    It went the other way too. I found it hard to admit that something was my fault. At least out loud. Inside, I blamed myself, but I could not get the “I’m sorry” across my lips.

    As I grew older, I realized no one liked Miss Grumpy and those long days of sulking had to be shortened a wee bit if I wanted to keep some friends, but to be honest, forgiving was still hard. Also, even though I was happy on the surface, many days I was still “långsur” on the inside.

    Guess who suffered the most from this?

    It was not until I had kids that I really got out of this extremely negative mindset.

    All of a sudden, I didn’t have time to sulk. Diapers were to be changed, bottles heated; and sleep—that wonderful thing we all take for granted BK (before kids)—was to be enjoyed, or rather desperately grasped at when there was a moment.

    Not only did I no longer have time to sulk, I also realized that for us parents to mentally survive, we had to be able to communicate quickly, honestly, and rationally. We had to make decisions without hesitations. We made mistakes all the time, but we survived them.

    At this stage, a baby’s life depended on my behavior. It was not just me anymore.

    It was at this time that I realized that you can actually get mad and stop being mad in matter of minutes, as long as you set your mind to it. It was up to me to decide how I wanted to feel inside.

    And, if I did wrong toward another person, there was a liberating sensation in saying I’m sorry and moving on. No dwelling. (more…)