#LiveforJacob

Jacob’s Final Years… (Part 1)

Jacob had suffered from depression and anxiety for 2 years, when he was finally diagnosed with Bipolar Disease in December of 2017 after his fourth inpatient hospital stay. The diagnosis was one that shook him, made him very angry, and what I later found out to have embarrassed him.

There it is. This is why kids hide what they are going through for fear of what others will think of them, how they will judge them and shame them for what they are feeling. This is the stigma that society has created and instilled in adults and children when it comes to mental health.

My son first came to me in August of 2016 and said, “Mom, I’m having these thoughts of fear. Fear that bad things are going to happen. Noises in my head that tell me something bad is going to happen, and it causes a weight on my chest.” The summer prior to that I started noticing him isolating himself in his room. I knew this was out of the norm since, where there were 10 teenage boys running through my house playing games and eating all my food, now there were none. He would sleep all day and wasn’t interested in skateboarding anymore. When I would ask him what was going on, he would just say it was too hot to go outside. I would ask him if he was ok and he would tell me, “Mom I’m fine, really it’s too hot. None of my friends are outside.”

After he told me about the anxiety he was feeling, I immediately made him an appointment with his pediatrician for the next day. When we saw her, she asked the two of us what was going on and then asked to speak to him alone. I sat in the waiting room for about 10-15 minutes when she finally came out and got me. She explained that after speaking to him she would be diagnosing him with depression and anxiety. She explained that she thought he needed to be on an antidepressant and then proceeded to explain all of the side effects they can cause. It was a tough decision for me. Do I just let him suffer with these thoughts and anxiety? Or do I put him on a medication that could possibly make his depression worse and cause suicidal ideations? 

In the end, I decided to go with what the Dr. and Jacob thought was best. The Dr. put him on a low dose of Zoloft. I had a long conversation with Jacob the first time I filled that prescription. I explained to him that I was scared to put him on this medication and that he had to promise me that at the first sign he feels any kind of feelings to hurt himself he had to tell me. He agreed and we made a plan that I or Jack would give him his medicine and we would monitor it. Two weeks later the Dr. decided to increase his dose because it wasn’t working.

In October of that year, I had the suspicion that Jacob was smoking weed again and while we were driving to meet Jack and the other two kids at a restaurant I confronted him about it. What many don’t know about Jacob is that he was always honest with me. He always felt bad when he lied to me, which at that point had only been a few times; until his last year. He told me YES. He had been smoking weed and also told me that he had taken several pills the night before but didn’t know what they were and he was very sorry he didn’t tell me. We cried in the car and when we got to the restaurant he pulled Jack aside and came clean to him.

When we got home, I took all the medications in the kitchen and locked them in my room. I told all of my kids that if they needed Tylenol or ibuprofen they needed to ask us. Jacob assured me he would tell me if he had those thoughts again and that he was just having a bad night. About a week later, it was Halloween. The kids were getting all dressed up while Jack and I were sitting in front of the house passing out candy. Riah went out with her friends, Dominic went with his friends, and Jacob went out with his best friend since kindergarten, Timmy. The kids came home a couple of hours later, said they had fun and after a while we all went to bed. I was woken up around midnight by Jacob, rushing into my room. He turned on the light and tossed several pocket knives onto my bed. He said, “Mom take these from me before I use them on my wrists.” Jack and I jumped out of bed as I said, “Go change, were going to the hospital.”

That night we sat in the Emergency Room, where I would usually be working, for hours. I had to watch as they made him change in front of them. They searched him. They took the laces to his shoes. They took his phone. I wasn’t allowed to have anything with me either. While Jacob slept in the bed, in front of a curtain-less window while someone sat outside the room watching him, I cried. This was my worst nightmare. 

Thankfully, since I worked there, the people helped as much as they could to push for him to get placed quickly at a behavioral hospital. When placement would normally take days up to weeks, he was quickly placed and transferred the next morning at Oasis Behavioral in Chandler. While he was there, he was diagnosed with Disruptive Mood Dysregulation Disorder (DMDD). He was placed on a whole new regime of medications in addition to his Zoloft and went from taking only one medication to now taking four. We went through the whole talk again, “you have to tell me when you are feeling this way and Jack and I will give you your meds.” 

I started noticing he was doing better. He was hanging out with his friends again. He was skateboarding again. He was Jacob again.

Then December of 2016 came.

I didn’t find Jacob that night, the police did. I’m thankful for that because I know that image would’ve been burned into my head forever, never going away. So if I didn’t find him and if I didn’t see the way he died, why do I lie awake at night with that image still stuck in my head? Why can I still picture it? Why is it burned into my head? Will it be there forever?

As I mentioned before, I know I have PTSD. I often lay awake at night staring at my bedroom door, remembering when the police opened it with guns and flashlights pointed at us. That was traumatic in itself, but then to be told 10 minutes later that my son was gone, was a horror I live with everyday.

Today I had a Dr.’s appointment to see if I’m ready to go back to work. I told her everything. I told her about lying in bed, staring at the door. I told her how I sit in Jacob’s room and cry and how I watch his memorial video every day. I even told her how I see him at least once a week, if not more and for a couple of hours I just cry and talk to him. I also told her something I haven’t told anyone, not even Jack.

I told her how even though I didn’t find Jacob, every night when I close my eyes, I picture him the way he died. I picture him looking at me with his big eyes and full of fear, as if saying, “help me mom”. So I ask you again, if I didn’t find him that night, how can that image be burned into my head? 

My Dr. says it’s also PTSD from the trauma endured that night, when everything happened. She said it’s normal. Everything I do and feel is normal. She said I have every right to be angry, sad, mad and depressed. She also wants me to go on medication for my anxiety and depression. I took the prescription, but will I take it? I don’t know. Right now blogging and talking about my feelings is helping. Venting in some way helps my anger and frustration and talking about him helps me keep his memory alive.

I told the Dr something else that has been bothering me as well. I told her that when I had Jacob, I was diagnosed with postpartum depression. I had to be on medication for a couple months and he’s the only child I had that with. I told her how I often worry, that because I suffered from PPD, could I have caused his depression? Could it be my fault? I can’t and won’t research it because I don’t want to know whether or not, what I fear could be true.

I always thought that PTSD was something someone suffered from if they were in the military, or if something traumatic happened to them that they have lived through. My Dr. reminded me that what I’ve been through with Jacob is just in fact that. Not to mention the countless other things that have happened to myself and my family the past 4 years.

On a brighter note, I also started going to the gym again. Sitting in the sauna is my favorite part of being at the gym because I feel at peace in there. I’m able to close my eyes and think about memories with Jacob and the plus side, I’m sweating so much nobody knows when I’m crying!

I can beat this. I have to for Jacob. He didn’t want me depressed. He wanted me to live, to #LiveforJACOB.

 

 

 

 

How long is long enough? Long enough to grieve, long enough to pick up and move forward, to go about life? When do we say, “Ok that’s it. This or that shouldn’t bother you anymore?” When is it ok to think, “Ok that person seems fine, they’ve had enough time to grieve.” When do we start thinking, “They’ve probably stopped crying everyday by now, right?”

Someone told me that people don’t know or understand how I’m feeling and in a way, I’m thankful that they don’t. They are blessed to not know this kind of pain. There is no way to really express how I feel, but I also feel like maybe they do need to at least understand.

 

So here it goes…..

I cry everyday. EVERY SINGLE DAY, I cry. Sometimes several times a day. Sometimes all day.

Once a day I go in Jacob’s room, I look at his things and I wonder what I could’ve done differently to help him and keep him here with me.
I get teary eyed every time I walk by his room and see it staged like a nursery for the home sale. I want more than anything to look in there and see him sitting on the bed listening to his music. I’d give anything to see his face looking back at me, confused as to why I’m looking in his room.

I get sad and angry with myself anytime I feel joy or happiness in life. I feel like this because he is gone. He is gone because he was in so much pain and I feel like I shouldn’t feel joy or happiness anymore.

I makes me sad when we do things as a family because our family is missing Jacob. It isn’t whole anymore, it’s like the circle has a break in it where he should be.

I feel like I’m just going through the motions of everyday life because I have to. I have no choice. I have 3 other kids and Jack who need me. They need me to be a mom and a wife, they need me to be Angela again. But will I ever?

I would like to stay in bed all day and just cry but I can’t because I have Arabella and she needs me to take care of her. Sometimes I feel like God gave me her because he knew he was going to take Jacob away. It’s like he had a plan. God had a plan to keep me from falling into the trap of depression and staying in my bed all day. I’ve heard from Jacobs friends that he was worried I would fall into that trap, he didn’t want me to be depressed. I’m trying, I really am. But often times I feel like I’m failing miserably.

Sometimes I have so many emotions they overwhelm me and all I want to do is curl up into a ball and cry. Most of the time, I can’t feel anything. I feel empty and emotionless,  like I’m a robot, like I’m not in my head or body.

Everyday I wake up and I think, wow that was a horrible dream. Then I look at my nightstand and I see his shirt folded neatly there next to me and I remember all over again, it wasn’t a dream at all. This is my new reality, this is my horror come true. A life without Jacob.

I don’t know if any of this will ever get better. Honestly, I don’t know if I ever want it to. Isn’t that how it should be? Should you ever really be happy again without one of your children here with you? Should you ever feel joy in life after loss?

Unfortunately, I am not just missing one, but two of my babies. I have two angels up in heaven and I pray to God everyday that he take care of them for me until I’m with them again.

My heart is forever broken. My heart is forever missing two pieces. My heart hurts. I know I need to keep pushing through and spreading Jacob’s message and I’m really trying, but sometimes I just get so overwhelmed with my pain and grief that it’s too hard.

 

Today is one of those days. Today I just want to curl up into a ball and cry. Today I miss my son so very much. Today I can’t keep fighting. Today is another bad day.

 

It’s an epidemic

(All names were changed to protect identities)

Last week,  as I was writing “Angry” for my blog, a text appeared across my phone screen and immediately, my heart sank into my stomach.

“Hi Angela, I am on the way to the hospital, Sarah od’d she took about 90 Pills. Please pray for her.” 

My response was, “What hospital? I’m on my way.”

I was already showered, in my pajamas and laying in bed but instinct kicked in. I threw some clothes on, kissed Jack goodbye and ran out the door. The whole time I was driving to the hospital I had so many emotions and thoughts running through my head with the strongest being FEAR. Fear of the unknown, fear that they didn’t find her in time and fear that this poor mother might have to go through what I’m going through.

As I pulled up into the parking lot of the hospital, I felt this intense pit in my stomach. This was the last hospital Jacob was in when he had his last attempt. This was the place where I had to go and see his arm all cut up because he locked himself in the bathroom with scissors and was cutting. This was where he was before I had to send him to another treatment facility that eventually failed him. 

But I couldn’t think about that now. I HAD TO GET INSIDE. I had to find out if Sarah was ok.

As I walked into the ER, I texted Sarah’s mom. “I’m here in the waiting room. No need to come out. I just want you to know I’m here for you if you need anything.” 

As I sat in the chair waiting to hear something, anything, I began to pray. I know, that sounds funny because of my last blog “angry” but I didn’t know what else to do. I prayed to God. I prayed that he spared that poor girl. I also prayed to Jacob and asked him to watch over his friend. It was only about 5 minutes when I heard a nurse call for Sarah’s family and I saw her mom come from around the corner. She walked right past her family and fell into my arms crying. That pesky emotion, FEAR, came over me again. I looked her in the eyes and asked, “Is she ok? Did they get to her in time?” She said, “yes”. A different emotion swept over me, THANKFULNESS. I told her I would be there in the waiting room as long as she needed me. I wasn’t going anywhere and I was so glad she was ok.

I sat there with Sarah’s friend’s parents. Their daughter saw Sarah’s Snapchat and she told her parents. They went to her house and told Sarah’s mom, who was able to call the ambulance. I told those parents how thankful and proud I was of their daughter for speaking up. I told them that they raised her right and they should be so proud. I explained that their daughter was a hero and she saved Sarah’s life. I told them about Jacob. I told them about how several of his friends showed up to our house that night and they called the police. Sadly for my baby, it was too late.

After about 15 minutes, Sarah’s mom came out and said that Sarah wanted me to come back and see her. When I went back to her room, she saw me and immediately started crying. I asked her if I could hold her hand and she said yes, so I grabbed a chair and sat next to her. We just starting talking. She told me about how she missed Jacob, how she wanted to be with him and how she felt like everyone has forgotten about him. Like I have mentioned before in one of my prior posts: I don’t pretend to know everything about depression and suicide, but if I can be there for a parent or a child then I will. And that’s what I tried to do that night. Just be there.

I told Sarah that Jacob wouldn’t want her to go be with him. I explained that he’d be upset because he wanted everyone to live, to live for him. I reminded her that he really did come up with #LiveforJacob and that this momma bear would never let his memory die. I told her how when I would pick up Riah from school I would see about 3-5 kids at a time wearing “Jacob t-shirts” around the school. I explained to her that even though it may seem like people forget about those that have passed because their lives do have to go on, that they haven’t forgotten them at all. I told her that I wanted her to remember the pain she heard in my cry when Jacob was buried and that I knew for a fact her mom would cry like that too had she succeeded tonight. We cried together, we hugged and she promised me she would try the help she was going to get and that if she ever felt those feelings about Jacob again or needed to hear “Jacob” stories she could call me anytime.

I said my goodbyes and told her parents I would be there for anything they needed and then I left. As I walked to my car I broke down. I shed tears for that family, tears for my Jacob, and tears of frustration for this awful disease. I sat in my car for what seemed like forever, crying and then I drove home. I sat in the driveway and watched Jacob’s Memorial video, then I went inside and kissed my baby and went to bed.

I’m so thankful that Sarah was saved. I’m so thankful that her mom and friend got to her in time and I hope that God and Jacob will continue to watch over her. Every time I hear of another kid taking their life it makes me so sad. There is such a huge, hidden epidemic right now and I don’t understand the hush that society has regarding this in schools. If we talk about it, it will only bring awareness. These kids might actually understand that there are people out here who want to help. They may begin to feel like they aren’t alone or weird or freaks because they have these intense feelings. They just might be more open and confide in someone instead of keeping these overwhelming thoughts to themselves.

I don’t know. Maybe? Possibly?

What I do know, is that I will never stop spreading Jacob’s message. I will not stop raising awareness about teen depression and suicide. And I will most definitely not stop trying to help every parent I can from having to feel my pain and every child I can from taking their life.

I will not stop living for Jacob.

 #liveforjacob

 

May 21, 2018

Today my 15 year old daughter told me that she’s tired of faking that she’s ok. She has been grumpy and short with us this past week, so I asked her today, what her problem was. Why is she all smiles with her friends and her boyfriend but rude and mean with her family? What I heard and what she told me is not what I expected.

She told me she is depressed and she’s tired of faking that she is ok. You see, my fuse was short because of her attitude towards myself and Jack this past week so understandably, I snapped at her earlier today. “What is your deal? Why are you treating us so badly?” What came next shocked me and tore what was left of my heart to pieces.

My beautiful, although sometimes a brat, daughter has been through some horrible stuff in her life. Things no child should ever have to go through and she  fought to keep her life together, despite all of it these past couple of years. I’m so proud of her because of how tough she is and I often admire her strength to keep going when others would have likely crumbled. My Riah has come out on top and not let her past define her future, or so I thought.

Riah told me that she is extremely depressed, sad and unhappy. She said at school she has to fake it, that she’s ok, and pretend that everything is alright. So when she comes home she’s so tired of faking it and that her true feelings come out and that’s why she’s so short and grumpy with us. She tells me that she doesn’t want to hurt herself, but do I just believe her?

My world seems to be spiraling all around me and I feel on edge. You see, I got back into my faith 4 years ago and it really is what has helped me through some tough times. I don’t know if I could’ve gotten through the loss of Santino without it and I even got baptized again last year. Fast forward to today, I am now questioning everything. I’m so angry and I’m struggling to understand WHY?

 Why have so many bad things happened to my family in these past four years?! What did we do to bring on so much pain?! Why us?!

People have been able to rationalize faith with me and why things have happened in the past and it has helped me see it from the other side. It has helped me get through it, but I just don’t understand anymore! Why take my beautiful son, my first born, a piece of my heart?! Why cause him to go through so much pain daily for the past two years? Why does my daughter have to go through the same pain when she had just come to terms with what has happened in her past? Why?! 

Nobody will ever be able to make me understand why my son is gone or why now I’m stressed and worried I might lose my daughter too. I don’t know if this anger I feel in my heart will ever go away. I know the emptiness never will. I know the pain I feel never will.

I do still pray. I do still believe in my faith. I still know that there are reasons for everything and I still know when I finally go, I’ll see my beautiful Jacob and Santino there waiting for me. I do still believe that God loves me.

 I just want to know why?

 

Day 38. I’m tired. I’m tired of being strong and putting on a brave face. Sometimes I think that because I don’t cry in front of anyone, people think I’m fine. Not fine as in, I’m ok that my son passed, but fine as in I’m handling the loss better than I am.

Today is the day I share with you, that I’m not fine. I’m not taking it better than it looks. I’m a mess. I cry A LOT. There is no one that I truly let see that part. I cry when I wake up, when Jack is already gone to work and Arabella is still asleep. I cry in the shower, where nobody can hear or see my pain. I cry when I think about what I should make the kids for dinner, because I know I won’t be cooking for Jacob. I cry throughout the day when Arabella is napping. I cry every night after Jack goes to sleep.

I wake up every night, several times even, because I wonder if Jacob is there in my room sitting in my chair. I hear noises all night in my room and I wonder if that’s him trying to get my attention. I have flashbacks while I’m laying there trying to fall asleep, of the cops opening my door with guns and lights pointing at us. Most nights I sit and stare at the door waiting for it to open.

I know that what I’m feeling when I lay down is PTSD and I know that it’s never going to go away. Every time I think about having to get something out of the garage I feel a heaviness in my chest and I have to fight back tears. I have locked the garage up and I don’t let people access it without my permission because I don’t want anyone touching his things. I know he wouldn’t want me to keep his things the way they are, but I can’t bring myself to go through them yet.

I often wonder what was going on in his head in his final moments. Did someone cause him to go from 0 to 100? Did someone really say something to trigger him? Why didn’t he just tell me? I hate knowing that he was bullied about his depression and that people made fun of him for his previous attempts. I wish that parents would teach their kids that their words hurt and that their actions have consequences.

I have a lot of guilt for not hearing his text that night because I feel in my heart that if I had, I could’ve stopped him. I could’ve gone downstairs and asked him why he was sad. I could’ve sat up all night with him and made sure he was ok. I could’ve taken him back to the hospital to get him more help. I truly feel in my heart and my gut that he didn’t want to do this. He didn’t mean to take his life and he didn’t mean to cause me the pain I will forever feel in my heart because he is gone. I know things happen for a reason and God has a plan, but if only I could’ve just heard that text.

I know there will forever be what if’s. I know that my pain will never go away. I know there’s nothing I can do but continue to try and live without him, continue to try my hardest to be strong and continue to live my life the way he would want me to. I need to be the best mother I can be and I need to continue to spread his message…..I will continue to #LiveforJacob.

April 9, 2018 will be a day that forever changed my life. That is the day I was awakened by police telling me that my son, my first born, was gone. 

Jacob Anthony Sanchez was born on Friday morning August 3, 2001 at 6:53 am. He was a beautiful baby boy with tons of hair, beautiful black eyes, and a gorgeous smile. When he was born, he showed me the true meaning of what love really was. Jacob was the first boy to ever truly have my heart and he was the second boy to take a piece of it with him when he left. His baby brother Santino took a piece of it with him also when he passed in July of 2016. I won’t say that Santino’s death wasn’t hard on me, because it definitely was, but Jacob’s death is by far the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my 38 years of living. Jacob’s death left a hole in my heart that left me feeling hollow and numb. Left me wondering, why? Where do I go from here? No parent should ever have to feel the pain of losing a child. It’s a pain I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. 

Jacob was 16 years and 8 months when he decided that the pain of living here on earth, day to day, was just too much. He had been suffering from depression and suicide ideations for about 2 years and he struggled every day to be what he called “normal”. He was diagnosed with bipolar disorder in December of 2017 and was put on a whole new regime of medications. He started to seem what we thought was his “normal”. He was finally hanging out with all of his friends. He was having fun. He was playing the guitar. He was using his skateboard again. He was smiling, laughing and interacting with us as a family. He stopped telling me that the noise in his head was too loud. I was starting to not fear I would wake up to a dead son. I started to get comfortable in my own home. 

It turns out Jacob’s noises never stopped, he just was trying his hardest to live and cope with it. He listened to music every chance he got. He had about 10 subwoofer speakers in my garage that he would play at the max volume and shake my house. He always had earphones In his ears and I could even hear the words, it was so loud. I wish now so much that I would have understood that he was using the music to try and drown out the noises in his head. These noises weren’t the same kind of noises you and I hear. Jacob explained the noises to me as thoughts. Loud, loud thoughts that he couldn’t turn off. Some of these thoughts were to self harm. Some of these thoughts were anxiety that something bad was going to happen. And some of these thoughts were concerns for me, his sisters, his brother, his friends and yes even you. You, a stranger he never ever met. Thoughts like, is my mom going to get in a car accident on her way to work? Is something going to happen to my sister if she goes to that person’s house? Is that person crossing the street going to get hit by a car? Just random things like that made him worry and stress every second of the day. 

Jacob was a very emotional kid. He always was. He worried even as a kid about things kids shouldn’t worry about. His counselor told us about a year ago that he took on everyone’s emotions and made them his own. He didn’t know where his emotions started and everyone else’s ended. I can only explain this as someone telling him, I’m having trouble in school. Or him hearing someone talk about a worry they are having. He took these emotional worries on and made them his own. Someone described the noises and emotion to me as hearing finger nails on a chalk board 24/7 in his head. That emotion finally weighed down on him until he just couldn’t take it anymore. He just wanted the noise and the pain to stop. So he ended his life. 

That night was like any other night. He was playing fortnight with his friends. He was laughing and joking. Earlier in the day he was skating on his skateboard in the front yard. He was playing his guitar with several kids in the garage. He was smiling and happy. At 9:30 pm he came up to my room and asked if he could have chocolate cake from his brother’s birthday dinner. He said goodnight and went back to playing fortnight with his friends. All I know is that at 11:30 pm he told his friend he was going to bed and made several phone calls and snapchats to kids and his adults he trusted and then sometime around 12:45 am he was gone. At 1:15 am my life was shattered. 

I do know that he made a video where he was crying and saying goodbye. I do know that he sent me a text message at 12:33 am saying “I love you mom.” I do know that he let a couple of friends know that he was going to do it. And I do know that some of his last words were….”you think depression and suicide is a joke? Take this as an example.” The very last text he sent out was…..#LiveforJacob. 

I do know that my son wanted to send a message. My son wanted everyone to know that teen depression and suicidal ideations are real. He wanted people to get help and he wanted people to live. Live for him. 

Jacob was anything but selfish and I believe that this was one of the ways that he proved that. He made the sacrifice so that others would not. Jacob also proved he was anything but selfish when he got his drivers permit. That day my 16 year old son checked organ donor on his own. He decided that if anything ever happened to him, he wanted to help save others and because of that selfless act he saved at least 22 lives with everything he donated. Not to mention the countless lives he continues to save by us spreading his message. 

By spreading that message we hope to help parents that may be in denial, kids and teens who are struggling or anyone who just needs to talk. I won’t lie, when he first started going through this I too thought he was just acting out and wanting to cause problems. After talking to him, counselors, psychiatrists, and even friends, I learned this is real. It is an epidemic. And it could happen to you. We need to break the stigma and the “hush” that comes along with this.

Never in a million years would I ever have thought I would have to plan a funeral for my child. But it happened. I had to pick out his final outfit, his final resting place and make decisions I didn’t ever want to make. I had to kiss him one last time, hug him one last time and watch as he was lowered into the ground. 

I just hope by sharing my story I help parents talk to their kids, open up the conversation about depression, feelings, bullying and even hearing things you may not want to hear. I just know if it saves one life, then I’ll know Jacob’s death wasn’t in vain. 

I miss him every second of everyday and I will for the rest of my life. But if I can have any happiness in this awful pain I feel in my heart, it’s knowing the the noise stopped. The pain is no more, he is up there in heaven listening to the bass as loud as he wants and he is riding the skate ramp rails being as free as he can be. 

Until I see him again, I will continue to spread his message. I will continue to help as many kids and parents as I can. I will #LiveforJacob