The Walk: A Mental Health Journey

Last year, the Suicide Awareness Walk was hosted by two of the young women I worked with in our church youth group. I love these two girls and wanted to support them — but I ended up being the one supported. I was at the kitchen counter making pancakes for breakfast when I remembered the walk. It was just starting, but I was determined not to miss it. I threw my hair in a high pony and tossed Mike the spatula. “I’ll be right back!” (Poor man knows I never mean that… lol.)
When I got there, the ceremony had already begun and everyone was gathered in a parking lot. It was the bead ceremony. I had never attended the Suicide Awareness Walk before, so I didn’t know what was going on. One of the girls explained what each color of beads represented and encouraged everyone to hold up their beads — or their hand — when she got to the color that applied to them.
Here are the colors and their meanings:

As she went through the list, people slowly began to raise their hands. Some lifted bead necklaces quietly. Others looked around and made eye contact, tears shining.

I had only thought of wanting to support these two sweet girls — not about sharing my own personal struggle. I was nervous, but I wanted to show the same strength and openness I could see in them. So when she said, “Green,” I raised my hand.
After the ceremony, it was time to walk. I stopped by the bead table. I wanted to support as best I could. Once again, I felt nervous choosing the beads that applied to me. The inner voice in my head said, “Green?! How could you claim to have a struggle? So many others are struggling much more than you. They have real reason to take green.”
That inner voice is something I am frequently bombarded with. On one hand, I feel it can be helpful sometimes. As musicians, we use our inner voice’s judgment to drive us to practice a difficult passage or woodshed a tricky run to perfection. On the other hand, when it cuts into our inner fibers, it can leave us feeling raw and ragged.
Through meditation, I’ve been learning when to tell my inner voice to sit down and be quiet. I took this as one of those times — and took the green beads.
As we started to walk, we were a community of people strung out for blocks. It was beautiful to see all the different people and the ties they have to struggles with suicide, walking together. A family I’m friends with was walking a ways in front of me. The wife slowed her pace to walk next to me. She gave me a side hug, and we continued walking together, sharing our struggles with one another.
The brave way in which she shared her struggles with me gave me the strength to share mine.
My struggle has taken two forms.
The first was a darkness I found myself stuck in after our second miscarriage. I grappled with feelings that the baby’s death was my fault — that I deserved to suffer for costing that soul the ability to live. The darkness felt deep, lonely, and hopeless. I felt like I was stuck in a cold, deep, dark hole that I could not pull myself out of.
After months of this, I realized I had to decide to leave that place. My path out of the darkness was choosing to accept Christ’s healing forgiveness and crawl toward His light. It didn’t fix everything overnight, but I was able to find happiness and peace again.
I realize the journey back to the light is different for everyone. I’m not suggesting that if those who are still in the blackness would just turn to Christ, He will immediately heal them. Many need other forms of healing, such as medication and counseling or therapy services. There are so many facets. But this is how I was able to find light again during that trial. At other times, I’ve used natural medications and some counseling to find the peace we all need.
The second form I struggle with is on a smaller, more regular basis. It comes from the voice that whispers, “You are not enough.” When that voice becomes loud enough, it can make me feel like everyone’s lives would be better if I walked out into the dark winter night and never returned.
While studying different forms of meditation for a class, I came upon a man who described fighting the same voice. He said it’s empowering to identify the voice as not coming from yourself. When it creeps into his thoughts, he recognizes it as not part of his identity — and lets it go, since it isn’t serving him.
That perspective has helped me. I’m learning to tell that voice to sit down and be quiet when its words no longer serve me.
As my friend and I shared with one another, the blocks went by quickly. Before I knew it, we had reached the end of the walk.
I found myself changed during those short blocks.
I am so grateful to those girls. They helped me open up about this difficult subject. Their bravery made me brave.