seekingmygreaterperhaps

This writing is mostly for me and my healing, but thank you for stopping by.

I am staring at a memorial service flyer for my student who died this week. My student. This is my seventh student death in seven years as a counselor, but this one is by far the hardest. When young people die it is tragic and horrible and not something I would wish on my worst enemy. Yet, as a counselor, I find myself continually dealing with this, and my heart is heavy. So I am taking the time to put it in this blog post, and using this as a not very private journal entry. I have been strong and put on a brave face for my community this week, but now that I am sitting in my apartment with my dog by my side, I am opening up the dams and releasing some of this.

Tomorrow, I will hug his mom and dad. I will extend my prayers for them, while knowing that it does little for their well of grief. I will hug his classmates who don’t know what a future without their best friend looks like. I will hug his teachers who are mourning the loss of his potential. This is going to be a very hard day.

I work in a small school. The junior class has 59 students and we have 240 in the high school in total. Everyone knows everyone, even if just in passing. This will turn out to be a strength for us in the end, but in this circumstance, this means that everyone hurts.

My principal called me and woke me up on Thursday morning asking me to come into work early. This has never happened, and I had a gut instinct that someone was dead. After I learned that one of our students had passed away, I was left with questions upon questions upon questions. As I told so many students and adults alike yesterday, there are questions that we will never have answers to. That is a dumb reply. As I am telling this to myself, I hate it, but I know that it is true and is the only possible comforting thing I can say. I will not take the blame for this because I cannot hold it, and I am thankful for the years of experience with student death when I have heard my superiors remove blame from counselors who try to take it. When you are someone who cares, you always think there is something more you could have done, no matter what the circumstance is. That is a not a seed of doubt that I will allow my conscious mind to water. Those questions get to linger and eventually they will fade to background noise.

I held the hands of my friends who taught him when they were told the news. I watched the shocked expressions turn into tears. I held them and hugged them when they aired what the last things they said to him were. How silly they thought deadlines seemed in the light of this tragic event. I watched past hurt bubble up to the surface as a few remembered loved ones they had that took their lives. Grief fades, but can easily be provoked when faced with similar situations. Teachers of this student were given a separate space to be until we as a school were allowed to share this news, because we couldn’t tell anyone. Teenagers are very smart and if your face isn’t “normal” they will ask you what it going on, so if we couldn’t fake it, we weren’t asked to. I sat with these teachers as we waited and my anxiety and heartrate increased by the minute. I didn’t want to sit with this information.

I have a FLEX (like advisory) group of 13 10th grade students. I went to supervise them and one of my students had brought in donuts. I put on music and tried to make them talk so I didn’t have to and they wouldn’t look too closely at my eyes. I felt like a fraud the entire time because I knew what was coming, but wanted to preserve their innocence for just a minute longer. Afterwards my work husband/best friend looked at me and said… well that was weird. Yep. It sure was.

Soon enough, the tidal wave of shock and grief was upon us. We told the students in small groups, and it was silent on the upper school campus. Until it wasn’t. Students came rushing to the counseling office, in body heaving sobs. I held kids close as I felt their young hearts breaking. His best friends cried together and hugged each other without letting go. One girl wailed into the wall as she slid down and crumpled in disbelief. I cried a little bit with them because how can you not? I was holding it together until I saw one of our students lose it. He knelt to the floor with a gut wrenching sob. Classes the rest of the day were cancelled and students were allowed to go home, but many of this students closest friends chose to stay on campus and be together. The student’s dad came, and when the student saw him, he let out a “Dad!” and collapsed into his arms. That was the moment when I decided I needed a little break. I went into a colleagues room and she held me as I took deep breaths to compose myself.

My job as a counselor on day 0 was just to let the kids cry into me and hold it for them. It was not the day for talking. After most of the students left, we came together as a leadership team and decided what to do the next day. We came up with a plan for the beginning of the day, walking the student’s schedule, supporting teachers, and allowing students to just be on campus while knowing that they would not be in the mental mindset for any learning to happen. We didn’t want them to feel alone in this.

I went home, hugged Kya super tight, started crying, and then she got up and walked to the other room. PSH. Emotional support dog my ass.

I met a group of 10 teachers at the bar, and they had 2 strong caipirinhas waiting for me. One to drink fast, and the other to enjoy. We sat at a big table in the back. Conversation waffled from regular stuff to tears to laughter back to tears. This is what community feels like. Coming together after tragedy and just being.

My job as a counselor on day 1 was harder. I checked in individually with his best friends, offering them a hand to hold and a place to lay their sorrows. It was terrible. It will continue to be terrible because I love these kids. I feel their pain like my own, and I know that in adolescence teenagers rely on their peers far more than their parents. The kids left behind are hurt and need to be reminded that they are so loved. I had parents come up to me and say, I don’t know how to help so and so. She’s never lost someone, what do I do?

The mood on campus was heavy, sad, and quiet. For some of my 9th and 10th graders, they are learning a hard lesson in empathy right now. They didn’t know the student who died, but they see their friends in distress and sad, and they want to comfort them. I had one student say, “how do you mourn someone you didn’t know?”

I just keep looking around for the adult or the one who knows what to do, until I realize that that person is me. I’m the mental health professional, and I’m the one with grief experience. I don’t want it to be me. As I hugged one of the other counselors at the end of the day while saying into her ear “I hate this job” she said “But you’re so good at it. You’re so good at it because you care so deeply and you love these kids so much.” To which I said, I still hate it.

After school, I joined a small group at a bar. No, I’m not drinking to drown my sorrows, but I know that for me, I need to feel my community around me. We laughed about really silly things while we passed hours there, and it was a good band aid for the day.

While all of the above is sad, I know I must seek joy where I can find it, even in the shittiest of circumstances. I have been strong for others, I need to be strong for myself right now. I am allowing myself time to cry. This morning I took Kya on an hour walk and didn’t even get mad when she wanted to sniff every 5 steps. I listened to my Christian music mix with encouragement. I went to the gym and lifted weights so I could feel my muscles burn. I got on the treadmill and ran for 5 minutes (I’m still not technically allowed to run according to my doctor…) and realized how out of running shape I am in, but appreciated the fact that my heart is still beating. When I got home, I took a cold shower and let it go. I let the water mingle with the tears as I felt free without the need to save face for the first time, and as I have written this, I have cried throughout. Grief is a slippery thing, and this will be a healing time for my school, but I know that we only get stronger when we are together.

So as I end this, I am reminding myself of things that I am thankful for and the things that bring me joy.

• Kya came to campus yesterday because it was her time to shine, baby! She did such a good job and laid right next to students in my office and let them pet her as they cried. In the hallways she was happy to see everyone, and got so many pets to her delight.
• Yesterday during the last block of the day, one study hall (composed of his best friends) went out to the field. It was pouring rain for hours before hand, so everything was soaking. They started doing a running race. Then it evolved to a soccer game, inviting everyone from that class, boys vs. girls. I and my work husband/best friend joined in immediately. The study hall teacher joined in, Kya joined in. Soon other teachers saw and brought their classes. It was raining, and we were terrible at soccer, but the students were together. They were trash talking and teasing and laughing and running and being kids. This is the junior class, and I have a feeling they are going to be very bonded while they heal their way through.
• I have been the recipient of so many hugs. I have friends and colleagues who are so caring towards me, and they say- you are doing such a good job. I feel like I’m drowning, so these small moments are really important.
• While floundering with the feeling of helplessness, I made a donation to the American Federation for Suicide Prevention. You can too. In lieu of anything for the memorial, the family asked attendees to donate to a mental health cause of their choice. This is mine.
• I am thankful for people texting me, sending me funny reels on Instagram, and acknowledging that this is heavy and hard.
• I am so glad I have Kya to come home to. Even though she can be a stubborn hound around me 99% of the time, she still lets me cuddle her when I need it.
• I am thankful I did a lot of meal prep earlier in this week so I haven’t had to think about what I’m eating when I get home.
• I am thankful for the hope I have, and how that provides a light in some seriously dark times.

I know we have some hard days ahead, but I have hope, and I know this weekend I will be doing some bucket filling activities so that I can be strengthened to be a rock for the students that I love (and also those that drive me nuts;) ). Send your love and light to my corner of world when you read this.

Beijos.