This is part of my story. I wanted to share. My story is in my journal if anyone wants to read it please feel free. My story is not only about suicide. It is about mental, physical,& sexual abuse. All of the things that led me to the world of drugs.



When Jay was 1, my 16 year old cousin came to live with us. He had a troubled home life & dropped out of school. I was 22 at this time. Scott loved Jay & would spend hours playing with him. We gave Scott a job on the farm & a home as best we could. Scott was my Dads brothers son, & my Moms sisters son. In short he was a cousin from both sides of my family. He was raised by another man. He always knew his Dad was not the man raising him, but was not told who his real father was until one day in school. This was devastating for Scott. He had always thought my Dad was his real Father. My Dad had gone out of his way to spend time with Scott & loved him. Truth was Scott's biological Father was the town drunk. A man who never spoke to him. A man who hadn't given Scott the time of day. My acoholic Uncle. The events of Scott's life were too muchg for him to handle. After his 17th birthday Scott walked 7 miles through the snow from our home. He left a brief note stating we would not find him on the farm. We reported him missing & searched 3 days before he was found. Scott had ended his life. Jay was only 1 1/2 but still remembers Scott. This was my 1st experience with death. My life changed. I felt a missing piece. It was if someone had ripped my arm from my body. I thought I would never function again. I couldn't understand why. Why did he go? Why did he do this? Then 1 night Scott came to me in a dream. He put his arms around me & simply said "I couldn't take the pain anymore". I understood. Scott was at peace & had comforted me. I have no doubt in my being, I had been comforted by Scott. I still miss him & often feel his presence.