Friendship Does More Than Move Mountains…It Changes Lives–Manchester Woman Walks to Fight Suicide
By Megan Linski
(Editor’s Note: Ms. Linski wrote to us several weeks ago about her campaign to fight suicide. Ms Linski and her friend Becca Maus had decided to honor their friend, Krisen Lison, by raising money for The American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. Ms. Linski has returned with a report on her efforts.)
16.4 miles is a lot longer in real time than it is on paper.
Some people said I had no idea what I was signing up for when I joined the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention’s Out of the Darkness Overnight. But I knew exactly what I was getting myself into. I knew it was going to be grueling. I knew it was going to be painful. But I also knew that it was going to be worth it, 100%.
Losing my best friend Krisen to suicide, exactly one year ago on the day of the Overnight, was the worst pain I had ever known. Mental illness had taken too much away from me, and I was determined to do something about it. Thousands of people gathered with me on the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art, ready to take the journey of a lifetime. Suicide survivors stepped onstage to tell their stories while all the walkers gathered their Honor Beads, necklaces of varying colors displaying who you had lost to mental illness. Some only wore one or two beads. Others wore dozens. Parents carried signs of their deceased children and t-shirts were inscribed with names of the lost. The air was sad, yet it rang with something I couldn’t describe at the moment.
I realize now that it was hope.
As I shared my story and others shared theirs with me, I felt more and more accepted. Suicide survivors are the most caring and compassionate people I have ever met in my entire life. Never have I felt more understood and cared for in a group setting. I met absolutely no judgement or criticism there. Thousands upon thousands gather to walk the Overnight, but even though all of these people are strangers, you can look into their eyes and see the same pain that you are facing. Finally you feel as if you are together, instead of alone.
The first five miles flew by, but by Mile 6 my blood sugar was low and I felt like fainting. After a quick snack at the next rest stop I was ready to keep going. At each of the rest stops AFSP had set up there were people ready to encourage us, to hydrate us, to keep us fed and going on. It wasn’t until Mile 10 that I felt terrible again, but there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that I was completing this thing, even if I had to crawl across the finish line. The cheer stations got me through each mile. That there were people every few miles giving us applause, encouraging us to keep going, patting us on the back, made the entire thing more bearable. High-fives, smiles, and hugs were given. When I felt like I was at my breaking point, those strangers cheering us on made all the difference.
Mile 13 was the absolute worst. My team had to stop several times to sit down and rest. My body was shaking and I felt like throwing up, but I pushed myself to the next rest stop. Once I got there, I collapsed on the ground and stared up in awe at a beautiful sight…a giant mural painted on the side of a building, entitled Finding the Light Within. It depicted the struggle met by suicide survivors after the death of a loved one. Once I saw that mural, the last two miles breezed by, and I crossed the finish line with ease.
A thought came to me slowly. I had walked on the oldest street in the United States, passed the Liberty Bell, and saw Betsy Ross’s house. All along the way, strangers had asked over and over, “What are you walking for? How far do you have to go?” Their reaction to my answer was always the same…astonishment, than gratitude. I saw the sun go down and rise up, beginning my journey at 7:00 PM and not ending until 4:30 AM. I had never given up, and the realization came to me slowly as I thought…I made it. By the end, my muscles were worse than sore, they were destroyed. The next day, I couldn’t even walk. Rising out of my hotel bed was extremely painful. But I don’t believe I’ve ever felt more proud of what I had done.
My body hurt, but my soul, it soared.
I searched tirelessly for Krisen’s luminaria near the finish, but I couldn’t find it. I had almost run out of places to look when I turned and saw a giant heart made of lights. Krisen always loved drawing hearts, and I knew immediately that’s where she would be. Sure enough, there she was, glowing amongst hundreds of bags grouped together to make a symbol of love. I don’t believe her being placed there was a coincidence.
The sun started to rise, and the closing ceremony began. As AFSP’s CEO stepped onstage, he shared that our Overnight group in Philadelphia collectively raised 2 million dollars. I have never heard anyone, especially a group and especially not me, get that excited at 5 in the morning. This was only more encouraging, as at the opening ceremony it was announced that in Pennsylvania, a law was just issued requiring suicide prevention to be taught in every middle and high school. In Illinois, anti-bullying classes are now required as part of the curriculum. And finally, after a decade, funding to provide netting and barriers on the Golden Gate Bridge, the top bridge in the nation for suicide deaths, was finally approved. All of these announcements brought tears and joy to our eyes. Together, we were making a difference.
I don’t believe my journey to prevent suicide ends here. Currently I am investigating how to petition the Michigan legislature so our schools also require suicide prevention education for our students. AFSP will continue to have me as a supporter, because the mission to stop suicide doesn’t end here. I realized during this walk that this is bigger than me, and my struggle and my journey. This is about saving lives. This is about all of us. And maybe next year, if I’m able, I’ll sign up for another Overnight.
Photos courtesy of Megan Linski.
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