I never thought I would choose to talk about something as truly personal as my own experience with suicide.

Once again I heard about a child who chose to take their own life. I do not know the details, and if I did, I doubt that I would be sharing them.

But in the past year we have heard of the death by suicide of famous, rich and notorious individuals. People who by others’ standards had “everything to live for.” But they chose to end their own lives.

What I do know is that while their earthly suffering has ended, that of their family and friends is only beginning.

I was just 30 years old when my entire life came crashing down around me.

I lost the love of my life to suicide, and with him I lost the future we had planned, and for a very, very long time, and maybe even still, I lost myself.

We were never going to travel to Holland to visit our nephews on the tulip farm where they were growing up. We were never going to own that bed-and-breakfast in New Hope, and we were never going to buy our retirement home on Long Beach Island.

All of those dreams and plans were gone in a moment.

There were signs of course, and I was told that sometimes the ones closest are unable to see them because of dealing with their partner’s depression every day. Codependence, I was told.

Until this very day I do not know what I would have been able to do to change the outcome.

About a week after my husband’s death, a repair man came to the house to fix my oven. My mother and he got into a discussion and my mother shared what had happened. The repairman told my mother his own story about coming home and finding that his wife had tried to end her life. He got her help, she survived, and even though years had passed and they remained married and all seemed to be well, he still returned home every night afraid that he would find her dead.

Suicide is an answer, but what is the question?

Or should I say the questions? Because for us the surviving, there are no answers, only more and more questions.

You can read a thousand books on psychology and suicidal ideation. You can study and research and talk until you’re out of words and then you can scream from the highest mountain top until your voice is gone and you won’t be any closer to the answer — because what I have learned is that every single person has to deal with the trauma and the outcome in their own way.

Some, hopefully most, will get on with their lives, changed but able to go forward. Some, unfortunately, will never recover and will live with the pain every single day of their lives.

Suicidal ideation is scary, but it is not fatal. It can, in fact be the beginning of the healing and it can be the catalyst to push a person into getting the help that they need.

We can’t force someone to be happy or to accept their situation in life, but we can be there. We can listen, we can share and we can help to lead them to a better place. Sometimes we will fail. Sometimes we will miss the signs. Sometimes we will not be able to see past our own issues, grief or stress to see that there is someone in more need of help than ourselves.

But sometimes we just might be in the right place at the right time and we might be able to sway the outcome.

In the end, we are all just human. We are imperfect and we are fallible. But if nothing else, we are resilient, and hopefully we are survivors.