Nine years ago on June 5, 2015, we got the worst news of our lives, that our son Charles, age 20, took his own life.
He had been struggling with depression and addiction but this suicide was not a possibility I imagined. He was, after all, the funniest, most popular kid in school.
Charles was effervescent, hilarious, a creative genius, loving, complex, stubborn, and pushed boundaries past uncomfortable. While other kids his age ignored someone who had been seriously injured, had a chronic illness, or was neurodiverse, Charles was the first one to offer a seat at his lunch table or go to someone’s house if they were homebound.
After a young man he didn’t know well lost his dad to suicide, no one went to the house but Charles. He spent hours listening when no one else did. That’s what made him popular and special. Because he allowed other people to feel seen and heard no matter how difficult the circumstances–all without judgment or admonishment.
People, family especially, were the most important part of his life. And it was the photo of us he had on the wall of his bedroom that kept him from killing himself for years. I would find this out after.
The grief was unbearable at first. It felt unsurvivable.
But nine years of hard work– together with time– has removed the fangs. For the most part. I’ve learned to find joy again, how to move forward, have fun, and laugh. There are still times when there is pain. But nothing like those intensely raw first 3-5 years.
I wanted and still want my child’s life to have counted for something. It is most parents’ greatest wish after loss of a child.
That’s why I talk about Charles. That’s why I wrote two books, started a blog with 3,000 posts, speak to audiences at keynotes and trainings all over. Because all of this has to have meaning. And there are so many things I see now that I want others to see and understand. That includes my successes and my imperfections.
That feeling that he didn’t really get to accomplish what he wanted and that I didn’t get to see him reach his goals leaves me feeling unfulfilled. And admittedly it’s what drives me.
He wanted to be famous for his music
He definitely had the talent and gifts. I can’t be sure he could have survived the climb but I would have liked to have seen him soak up some notoriety. And yeah I wanted that sense of pride. We all do as parents, don’t we?
There is also the underlying feeling that for him to count, I need to accomplish certain things. There have been so many roadblocks along the way I’ve wondered if the universe is telling me some to quit but in retrospect it was helping me build my resilience. It’s only now that I can barely keep up with demand. Would I have done it all had I known how much rejection was involved? What else would I have done? I have always come back to that last one. What else would I do?
I knew this would never be easy
But sometimes I do wish it wasn’t so hard. I wish the price had not been so high. I even feel odd re-using pictures because I’ll never get new ones.
Despite my son’s death, my love for him still lives and evolves. And now I can say that I want to cuddle with my grief and the memories instead of trying to get out from under it.
Learn more about AnneMoss’ incredible story of grief, hope, and healing through her award-winning memoir Diary of a Broken Mind: A Mother’s Story, a Son’s Suicide, and the Haunting Lyrics He Left Behind. This book includes Charles’s lyrics that help answer the “why” behind his suicide.
“Anne Moss writes an amazing book of her son Charles battle against SUD and depression, and ultimately a talented young man taking his life. After loosing my son to suicide her words of hope and healing helped me during a very difficult time.”
AnneMoss Rogers is a leading wellness and suicide education expert and one of the top mental health speakers and suicide prevention speakers. Known for her powerful, motivational keynotes, AnneMoss combines her personal story of loss with proven strategies to help organizations build a wellness culture that drives results and saves lives. She speaks at conferences, workplaces, K-12 schools, and universities, delivering impactful presentations that inspire change and promote mental health awareness.
AnneMoss does this work in memory of her son, Charles, who struggled with anxiety, depression, and addiction, and died by suicide at age 20 in 2015.