Gemma Correll

Living With Passive Suicidal Ideation

September 25, 2017 // 4 Comments

A quick content note: the following contains frank discussions of trauma, mental illness, and suicidal ideation. During suicide prevention month, especially in the wake of [...]

on Living With Passive Suicidal Ideation
19 Oct 2018
Thank you for starting the conversation. I needed to see this today.
on Sweatpants & Soul | The First Shower After
13 Oct 2018
I'm sorry...going through breast cancer is far from pink. Thank you for being so honest. We didn't sign up to be warriors and advocates. The daily reminders of missing eyebrows, missing hair, scars, and reshapened bodies, only adds to the many other manditory changes to our life. God bless our supporters, but dear Lord, allow me to be angry, sad, scared, and mad....without feeling guilty. My gratitude for early detection, good health insurance, and for getting treatment, will never leave or diminish, but the anger of having to deal with this seemingly never ending disease will hopefully disappear one day. Soon.
on Making Us Laugh This Week | 12 Memes for the Coffee Obsessed
12 Oct 2018
ME, every day!
on Sweatpants & Soul | The First Shower After
10 Oct 2018
I did not have a shower moment, but a clothing moment. I was a few days post mastectomy and tissue expanders when we were leaving for dinner. I put on one of my favorite shirts. It used to be full and flowing. I put it on upstairs in the bedroom; nothing seemed out of the ordinary. So, I went downstairs to the bathroom to put on some makeup and that's when I saw it. I looked in the mirror and I saw my shirt hanging there. Lifeless. There was no flow, there was no natural curve pushing the fabric away from my torso. I was forever changed. To go from a 42DDD to basically nothing, at that point, was more of a shock than I could have ever anticipated. Without hesitation, as if it were a reflex, I cried to myself. I left the bathroom without makeup and returned to the recliner. I sat there and stared at the wall. When he saw me, this man who was my rock, my cheerleader, my husband, he asked me what was wrong. Instinctively I said, "Nothing". It was barely a whisper. Of course he knew that was a lie. He pulled me up out of the chair and lead me to the kitchen where it was just the two of us and he asked me again. "What's wrong, for real?" That was when I could no longer even fool myself, the tears came back and through them I said, "My shirt looks funny," and I planted my head into his chest. I heard him cry with me for only a moment before he lifted my chin and looked at me and said, "Your shirt looks like you are alive. It doesn't look funny, it looks like you are cancer free." Before, when we found out that I was going to have to do chemo, I changed his perspective, and that day, he changed mine. Now, we are sitting in the Eve of a gastric sleeve surgery so that I can be the healthiest me possible. #BCwarrior2015
on Sweatpants & Soul | The First Shower After
10 Oct 2018
I understand this, too well. It was 13 years ago right now that I started radiation treatment after chemo and matectomy and was left so burned. "Be grateful" they say. They don't what it truly feels like. I didn't do reconstruction until a year after radiation because of the burns but still had complications. Life is forever altered and it's not all bad. I call myself FEARLESS now because of it. (((gentle hugs)))