When Life Changes in an Instant - Personal
/Sensitive content warning: suicide
This session is a bit over a year and a half old now, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to blog about it until now. I was photographing this perfect little gentleman the morning my dad died. This guy was so alert, and was the smiliest baby I had had in a looooong time. It was such a great session. He's the sunshine I am choosing to remember on the darkest day of my entire life.
I’ve shared bits and pieces on IG, but writing this post has helped me get out some of the ugly that’s been living in my head. It’s extremely vulnerable for me to put this out here, especially within my business, but if it can help even one person feel less alone in this world it’s worth it.
That morning, I woke up with the most crippling anxiety. It was with me all day. It’s what stands out the most from that day, aside from the obvious. I didn’t have it during this session but before, and after, up until the phone call that changed my life. At 3:46pm on Wednesday August 16, 2023, I had a great life and a dad that was alive. I was prepping a client’s outfits for their session the next day. At 3:47pm I got a call from my sister. She never calls, always texts. I remember thinking it was strange she was calling but never would I have been prepared for what was next. I sent the call to VM and texted immediately that I couldn’t answer and I’d call her back soon. She replied back instantly “you have to” and as my heart was dropping to my stomach, she was calling again. I can’t remember specifics of the call, or what she actually even said, but what I can remember is: it’s dad, he was gone and I didn’t cry. I was completely frozen and speechless; unable to move, breathe, cry, respond, exist.
My dad died by suicide. A sentence so shocking that had never been one I thought I’d ever have to consider, let alone write. Never in a million years would we have thought we'd be here but we're now part of a club we didn't choose to join. The number of people who have told us they've lost someone close to suicide, or the people who have already said "your dad saved my life by you talking about it" is astonishing. So many people are affected by this and so many more suffer in silence, like my dad. Yet the resources are incredibly lacking and don't get me started on inaccessibility to affordable health care in general, let alone mental health care. And it’s about to get a hell of a lot worse in America.
My dad was the greatest man I know. He loved being a girl dad, and then a girl-granddad. He would hit the dance floor floor at weddings and never stop. He did everything for us, for anyone actually. He could fix anything, he could build anything, his love language was acts of service. The most selfless man. So when people tell me what he did was selfish, I just want to punch something.
I have been struggling with finding a new normal, a new path forward, and figuring out where I go from here. The truth is, the Courtney that existed in this session that morning is gone. I'm a fragmented shell of what I once was. Even though it’s been over a year. I don’t think “there is no timeline” is talked about enough in terms of grief, but especially suicide grief. I’ve been told I’m “stuck,” I’ve lost a tremendous amount of relationships & support and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m expected to be over it by now or if it’s because it’s really hard to be around someone who is so sad all the time. Or if I was just so lost in my own dark cloud for so long that I stopped seeing anything but that dark cloud. This grief is incredibly isolating. But it’s also a part of me now. And it really shows who shows up for you in the darkest nights of your life.
I've grappled with what feels like an entire identity crisis. Does photography even matter anymore? Am I meant for something more meaningful? What will I do if I’m not photographing? How can I give back to the community but still make a living? Do I move back to Wisconsin to be closer to my shattered family? Do I have to sell my place, the place where I feel my dad the most because of all he built and helped me with when I bought it? I'm feeling lost, like a compass without a needle, like I’m waiting for some big answer to fall from the sky. It’s completely overwhelming.
I’ve cried what feels like 72 oceans worth of tears. I’ve screamed at the top of my lungs. I’ve asked “why” to invisible forces, and to my dad, at least 85,000 times. I’ve been awful and angry and really difficult to be around. I blame myself. I blame the world. I’ve hated Wednesdays and all holidays. I can’t be in big crowds and I hate loud noises. I can’t concentrate, and can’t multi-task at all anymore. I am triggered by a lot of things all of the time. It’s.a.lot.
Among all the anger, though, there have been moments of healing. I’ve journaled. I’ve done an endless amount of soul-searching, and will continue to do so until I die. I’ve appreciated the heck, and tried to focus on showing it, out of the very few close people yet left in my life. I’ve had more understanding for what people might be going through when they’re having a tough day. I’ve talked to my dad, a lot. I’ve stopped caring about the useless shit in this life that doesn’t matter. I now do grief yoga and listen to podcasts on soul-led living & somatic healing. I had been in therapy for years before my dad died. Right before he died, I was doing EMDR for trauma stemmed from being hit by a car on my bike. This is something I think I’ll go back to because it really helped.
I will spend the rest of my life living with a giant hole in my heart and will devote my time and resources to organizations like the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention & NAMI. They will need it more than ever with this current regime gutting vital programs for people who are struggling. (Yes, I went there. If you don’t like it, I don’t care. One of the things I’ve learned to let go of. I will not let my empathy toward humanity die and, unfortunately, politics literally affects our everyday lives.) Two months after my dad died, our family participated in the Out of the Darkness suicide prevention walk at Montrose Beach in Chicago and raised over $2000. It launched my black hole of grief into something to give back to. It gave me a purpose to try to find some meaning out of this unexplainable pain. But I just couldn’t do it this past summer & fall. The grief cloud was so heavy and the one-year anniversary was debilitating. The purpose it had given me the year prior was replaced with resentment. I had no emotional bandwidth for it, but am hoping that some day I’ll be able to do so again.
I’ve met new people in my life from this tragedy, people that have also been destroyed by suicide. A stranger that saw me wearing an AFSP bracelet stopped to talk and then hugged me. And still checks in on me. People from grief group. Connecting with another woman on social media who also lost her dad to suicide almost exactly two months before I lost mine; we’ve been there for each other when it seems no one else understands. Clients that have been through it and reached out, acquaintances on IG that are going through it. The community of suicide survivors is truly compassionate beyond anything I’ve ever known and I’m convinced these strangers are angels that were put on my path at the exact right time. There are silver linings. The compassion I have for others is one. I’ve always been a highly-sensitive empath, but this has made me even more-so. Which makes it really challenging to live in this cruel world we’re in.
Please talk about mental health and suicide. Talking about it reduces the stigmatization surrounding mental health and could help people to reach out to get help. The "if-only we had" 's and the "why?" 's have tormented my family and I and we would give anything to have him back with us to remind him how loved he is. And please don’t tell a survivor that “everything happens for a reason” because it’s insanely insensitive, especially with suicide. One last ask - please also consider saying “died by suicide” or “completed suicide” instead of committed suicide. One little tweak of the sentence can help take the stigma out of it.
I so appreciate all of the loving support and patience from you all. My hope is that all of my clients turn into friends, but those of you who have really shown up for me will never know just how much you mean to me but I'll spend the rest of my life trying to show you. If you have questions or are going through it and need support, I’m here.
Life can change in an instant. Take the photos. Most importantly, be in the photos. Schedule professional photos. You’ll never regret photos with your loved ones.
Extra thanks to this fam for giving me so much grace and patience after their session.
xoxo,
Courtney
I leave you with one of my favorite photos I’ve ever taken of my dad. He hated being in photos. I’m talking all-caps DESPISED. So I could only take them when he wasn’t aware of it, like this one 💔
