Once the Storm is Over
by Nina Bingham
To see book trailer and reviews: www.oncethestormisover.com
“Nina Bingham’s “Once the Storm Is Over: From Grieving to Healing After the Suicide of My Daughter,” offers a compelling narrative of loss. In the aftermath of her daughter’s suicide, Bingham weaves strands of their shared life together and forges a new path forward for herself. I was deeply moved.”-Dr. Elyn R. Saks, International Best-Selling Author of The Center Cannot Hold: My Journey Through Madness, and Associate Dean and Orrin B. Evans Professor of Law, Psychology, and Psychiatry and the Behavioral Sciences at the University of Southern California Gould Law School
“Nina Bingham’s book is a jolt to the heart to any of us who have survived suicide or raised children in the shadow of it. As Nina says, so many parents cannot imagine surviving the death of thier child, and neither could she, but she does! She chooses health and healing and light despite being driven to her knees, heartbroken by her daughter’s suicide. This anguished love story will haunt you and inspire you. I ask you to read it. For your sake.”-Dr. David Treadway, author of Dead Reckoning: A Therapist Confronts His Own Grief
“Tragedy happens in families whether you are a gay or straight parent. In her memoir, Once The Storm Is Over, Nina Bingham offers valuable insight to others by sharing her experience of generational clinical depression, coming out in a religious family, and of her daughter’s suicide. A gifted writer, Bingham is also a courageous soul.”-Angeline Acain, Publisher and Editor, Gay Parents Magazine, www.gayparentmag.com
“In this unflinching memoir, Nina Bingham shares her unique grief journey after the death of her precious daughter. Nina’s story courageously lays out these truths: Grief’s hurt is essential, and expressing it even more essential. If you do the hard work of grief, you will find grace, hope, and healing. And true love…well, true love never dies.”-Dr. Alan D. Wolfelt, bestselling author of Understanding Your Grief: Ten Essential Touchstones for Finding Hope and Healing Your Heart, and the Healing Your Grieving Heart Series, and The Center for Loss and Life Transition
5.0 ou If you want to understand grief, you’ll love this book!
“It’s been a year and a half since Moriyah’s death, and I’m going through some of my stuff, and find this in one of my journals: Since Moriyah’s death I’ve kept myself from journaling or blogging, which is my normal method of artistic expression. Perhaps I don’t want to see my feelings splattered on paper. I still can’t sleep at night. I stay up as long as I possibly can , as if there’s only one day left to live and my inner clock knows I’m running out of time. Her death reminded me, poignantly, how short our time is. My brain thinks it’s not safe or permissible to go to sleep, because had I not gone to sleep that fateful night, perhaps she would still be alive.Even though people tell me I’m not blame, that vigilant voice constantly, persistently reminds me like a mother’s finger being wagged at me, that it’s most definitely not safe to sleep. I’m overwhelmed with exhaustion.
Her death caused me to re-examine my whole life, to re-assess everything I thought I knew about me. The morning of her suicide, a giant malevolent hand caught me by the foot, turned me upside down and began shaking so hard that everything I thought I was, including all my self-importance, arrogance and narcissism tumbled out. For awhile I lost my mind.I’m not sure I’ll ever regain the person I once was, and certain I don’t want to. I think I hate that person now. It remains to be seen how to take nothing and construct a life of it again. A part of me will always suffer because of her choice.
The first three weeks are a blur. Two days after having found her, I remember vomiting upon waking, a delayed reaction. i was in shock and I didn’t know it. I found it odd at the time, vomiting when I didn’t feel ill. I wasn’t cognizant whether it was night or day, the weekday or weekend. When you’re in shock, day-to-day rituals lose their meaning. I was disoriented, walking with wooden legs and the feeling of being mildly concussed. When people talked to me, it seemed they were talking at me, throwing words at my head that I had to dodge, because I couldn’t make sense of what they were saying. I stumbled around this way, in a daze, not hearing or seeing anything for three weeks. I was often dissociated from my body. When it’s too painful to stay in the body, the mind compassionately allows you to withdraw. I stayed outside myself looking in from a more comfortable distance, in a perpetual state of numb.
A part of me will never accept that she is gone. I cannot accept her death, it would be heinous of me to accept it, for then I would have to say goodbye, something a mother cannot do. She used to go to her father’s for the summers. I would put on a brave face until she had gotten on the train and we’d waved goodbye. Then I would cry, unseen, on the way home. But I could stop crying because she’d be coming back when the leaves began to turn colors and fall from the trees, when it was time to go school shopping together. There was a predictable ending and beginning, life was certain. My mind won’t let me cry too much because it’s waiting for her to step off the train, a little taller and slightly more grown-up than when she left; a whole summer away is a tragedy for a mother. But there’s no train, and there’s no Moriyah. Everything keeps fooling me.”
Once The Storm Is Over unapologetically rips apart the façade of coping to show the devastating aftermath of a child’s suicide and how a mother, flawed but courageous, learns to live again. Described as brave, insightful and inspiring, this book is sure to make its mark in the literature of suicide recovery, and be remembered for its profound and healing message.