Sunday, March 17, 2019


Capucine was a French fashion model and actress known for her roles in The Pink Panther (1963) and What's New Pussycat? (1965). 

Friends and loved ones report that Capucine suffered from major depression during the last years of her life. On March 17, 1990, Capucine died by suicide. She was sixty two years old when she died. 

January 6, 1928 – March 17, 1990

Sunday, March 10, 2019

Richard Jeni

Richard John Colangelo better known by the stage name of Richard Jeni, was an American stand-up comedian and actor.

Jeni first received recognition through a series of Showtime stand-up specials and frequent appearances on The Tonight Show. After making his Tonight Show debut in 1988 with Johnny Carson, Jeni would return often and later made appearances on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno, all told with more appearances than any other stand-up comedian.
Jeni had numerous comedy specials on both Showtime and HBO. In 2004, Jeni was ranked #57 on Comedy Central's list of the 100 Greatest Stand-ups of All Time
In 2007, Jeni had recently been diagnosed with severe clinical depression coupled with fits of psychotic paranoia. On March 10, 2007, Richard Jeni lost his life to suicide. He was forty nine years old.

Richard Jeni 
April 14, 1957 – March 10, 2007

Wednesday, March 6, 2019

Mark Linkous

Mark Linkous was an American singer, songwriter and musician, best known as leader of Sparklehorse. He was also known for his collaborations with such notable artists as Tom Waits, PJ Harvey, Daniel Johnston, Radiohead, Black Francis, Julian Casablancas, Nina Persson, David Lynch, Fennesz, Danger Mouse, and Sage Francis. A member of the 1980s indie band the Dancing Hoods. In 1995, he created a project named Sparklehorse, which released a number of critically acclaimed records.

Despite his success, Linkous was known to have battled depression for many years. He was also greatly shaken by the December 2009 suicide of close friend Vic Chesnutt. On September 9, 1962 Mark Linkous also died by suicide. He was forty seven years old.

Mark Linkous 
September 9, 1962 – March 6, 2010

Friday, February 22, 2019

Ed Flanders

Edward Paul "Ed" Flanders (December 29, 1934 – February 22, 1995) was an American actor best known for his role as Donald Westphall in the television series St. Elsewhere.
After winning two Emmy awards for prior work, he received four Emmy Award nominations as Outstanding Lead Actor in a TV Series, and won his third award in 1983. 
After a stormy departure from the series in 1987, he returned for two more episodes in 1988, including the series finale. During a scene in which Westphall addressed the staff, Flanders began speaking extemporaneously about the quality of art and had to be edited for broadcast. His exit on St. Elsewhere as a regular cast member was titled Moon for the Misbegotten after the play that won him a Tony Award. The episode gained much publicity as Westphall left the hospital after "mooning" his new boss, Dr. Gideon (played by Ronny Cox). Flanders continued his working relationship with executive producer Bruce Paltrow in the short-lived 1994 CBS series The Road Home.
Following his roles on television he went on to have a successful movie career as well.
However, Flanders had a difficult personal life. He went through four divorces. In 1989 he had an automobile accident hat left him with a chronic back injury. Most notably though, he had a lifelong battle with depression, Flanders died by suicide on February 22, 1995. Ed Flanders was sixty years old when he died.

Edward Paul "Ed" Flanders 
December 29, 1934 – February 22, 1995

Friday, February 15, 2019

May Brookyn

May Brookyn  was an English born American stage actress.(Her name was spelled Brookyn but is often misspelled Brooklyn). She achieved success and fame, however in late 1893, her lover Frederic A Lovecraft died by suicide. Despondent over his death, May Brookyn also died by suicide on February 15, 1894. Although her exact date of birth is unknown, Brookyn was in her mid to late thirties at the time of her death.

May Brookyn  1854/59 - February 15, 1894

Thursday, February 14, 2019

The Constant Miracle

All healing is first a healing of the heart.
- Carl Townsend

It's Valentine's Day. Everywhere we turn there are symbols of love and references to the joy inherent in relationships. It doesn't matter if a person is actually experiencing pain today, and it doesn't matter if their relationship status is inclusive of a terribly broken heart. We are still bombarded by symbols of joy. For survivors of suicide loss who have lost their spouses or partners, this holiday can be particularly cruel.

Some of us though, have gone on to heal enough that we've been able to move on to a new chapter in our life. Some of us have begun to be able to love again. In fact, this is where I am today. I am in love. And while falling in love after having lost someone to suicide has had its unique challenges, I have also learned to count my blessings. I live in profound gratitude that I am able to have this type of love in my life.

But of course I am thinking about John, my boyfriend who died, too. I cannot help but think about prior Valentine's Days. Some  of the memories are sweet and some sting. But all of them lay side by side in my heart, and they remind me that this is the nature of life. Sweet and stinging both at the same time. I've learned that living in acceptance of this duality is how we get by. Living in this acceptance is how I've begun to allow myself to love once again.

Today though, I am also thinking about my fellow survivors of suicide loss - especially those whose loss is fresher than mine. This morning I decided to reread the post I'd written on this blog, one year ago on Valentine's Day. In that post, I shared the details of pulling myself out of the worst of an eating disorder relapse that had occurred shortly after John died. On Valentine's Day last year, I wrote about healing. Although I still believed I'd never experience romantic love again (I was wrong), I did understand what it was that had carried me through my first few months of grief.

I want to share that writing with you all, again, today. One year ago I didn't realize I might love again. What I did know was that I would not let a broken heart dictate how I would heal or how I would love in the future.

From last year's post:

So here I am today. I still know that John loves me. I still know that he wants me to be happy. And I still know that he wants me to be ok. This year though, I believe that John is comforted by the fact that I am loved here and now, while I am still alive. I believe he is comforted by the fact that I am happy, and that I am ok. 

Most importantly, I am still surrounded by the very same constant miracle that held me up and saved me last year. The miracle today has not lessened. Instead, like love itself, the miracle has expanded. 

If you would like to read last year's entire post, click here, or on the image below:

Happy Valentine's Day, all.

Sunday, February 10, 2019

Jeong Da-bin

Jeong Da-bin was a South Korean actress. Best known for the popular television series, Rooftop Room.

According to her boyfriend, the actress became depressed over a lack of work in the years following the series. She was also devastated by cyber-bullying and malicious attacks on the Internet about her physical appearance.

Jeong Da-bin died by suicide in 2007. She was twenty six years old when she died.

Jeong Da-bin
March 4, 1980 - February 10, 2007

Thursday, January 31, 2019

Mike Kelley

Michael "Mike" Kelley was an American artist. His work involved found objects, textile banners, drawingsassemblagecollageperformance and video. He often worked collaboratively and had produced projects with artists Paul McCarthyTony Oursler and John Miller. Writing in The New York Times, in 2012, Holland Cotter described the artist as "one of the most influential American artists of the past quarter century and a pungent commentator on American class, popular culture and youthful rebellion".

At the end of his life, Kelley suffered from depression. On January 31, 2012, he lost his life to suicide. Mike Kelley was fifty seven years old when he died.

Michael "Mike" Kelley
October 27, 1954 - January 31, 2012

Friday, January 25, 2019

Finding Peace

Jenn Gilstrap of Campbell, Texas has shared her writing on this blog before. As a survivor of suicide loss, her willingness to share her story is both courageous and a gift to her fellow survivors. I am honored that she has allowed me to share her most recent writing, once again:

I'm nearly two years out from my loss. Being honest about where I've been, and where I am, and where I hope to be, has been key for me; as has being determined not to let the loss control the rest of my life. 

To those of you who are new to having lost someone to suicide, my heart breaks for you. I wanted to take a few minutes to express some things that I've personally learned along the way in hopes that those of you who are new to this understand that it does get better.

I lost my husband to suicide on March 20th, 2017. I found him in our bed. I went into immediate shock. I remember very little from that morning. Mostly I remember walking the road in front of our house telling myself it had to be a dream. I didn't cry. I screamed a lot but I never cried. I was too far removed from the emotions you would think you'd feel. All I felt was numb and bewildered and stunned.

The signs had been there. Bryan talked about killing himself often; mostly when he was drunk. When he was sober, however, he'd always assure me that it was just talk and there was nothing to worry about. I loved him and I wanted to believe that what he was saying was the truth. We talked about his suicidal ideation and we agreed he needed help. He had all the tools at the ready. But the day he decided to go, he didn't talk about it. He didn't reach out. He just did it.

Now, because my husband drank and used his medications to get high, we fought. A lot. And I could be down right ugly to him. I hated what we were going through as a couple but what I hated even more was that I was being put through hell for an addiction that wasn't even mine. I had to deal with the drunken antics; I had to watch after him and hope that he didn't hurt himself or someone else. I had to deal with hostility that was directed at me. It was exhausting. I was hurting. And the man I loved, the man I was giving my everything to, just kept hurting me. 

In response I could be mean, but I thought if I said the "right" thing, it would stop. For a long, long time, I struggled with the idea that my angry words were what caused him to complete his suicide. I was so sure that if I'd treated him better, he'd still be here. If I would have said this instead of that; if I would have let one thing go instead of fighting for another thing. On and on my guilt went. After he died, I rarely stopped to remind myself of what had brought me to that point. I started to forget that Bryan had been a grown man and had done his part to bring our relationship to where it was.

I needed to take an honest look at Bryan's past, too. My husband had attempted suicide several times. I'm sure he'd attempted more times than even I knew; well before he and I ever got together. Had he completed then, who's fault would it be? His mother's? His father's? No. Nobody else was or is to blame. 

Today, I am still healing. I still have days that are hard. But I don't feel sad when I think about Bryan anymore. To be honest, I can't really put how I feel into words. I'm moving on. I have a new man in my life who I truly love. I'm pregnant with my first child; something I didn't think was possible when I was married to Bryan. My life is blossoming. 

I'm grateful for the beauty that's come from the ugliness of my loss. I got here though, by embracing the pain. I had to acknowledge what I'd gone through and stop looking for the whys behind it. There are no answers. There is no way of knowing what would have happened if I'd done this or that or said this or that. There is only what happened. And it happened. Not because of anything I said or did; not because I was lacking as a wife or friend but because my husband was sick. He succumbed to his illness; much like cancer. He made a choice with a mind that simply wasn't right. Once I made peace with that, it helped me move forward.

I hope those of you who are new to this glean something from my words. You are NOT to blame. You did nothing wrong. I don't care how mean or ugly you were. The decision to die by suicide was always theirs and theirs alone. I pray you find your own peace.

Monday, January 21, 2019

Survivors of suicide loss must step back and tell themselves this simple truth: We did the best we could. We must not give up. We did the best we could.