In Honor of Isabel's Birthday

To remember Isabel on what would have been her 19th birthday, we have posted some of the art work she did in the last two years of her life.

The Isabel Whitcomb Stay Strong Fund

We are excited to announce that in January, the University of North Carolina Center of Excellence for Eating Disorders (CEED) established the Isabel Whitcomb Stay Strong Fund. This fund will create an ambassador's program, with the vision of building an education and referral network in North Carolina, in order to provide children and families with evidence-based care for eating disorders in their home communities.  

The program has three broad aims:

       1. Educate pediatricians on the detection and treatment of eating disorders in their patients and help them guide parents to family-based therapy resources. 

       2. Identify and train 7 therapists in family-based therapy. Ensure coverage by focusing on the major metros in North Carolina. Provide weekly supervision via video-conferencing. 

       3. Measure the fidelity of family-based therapy practice in sessions via audio recordings and the expansion in services through the Ambassador program. 

       As anyone who has read Isabel's blog posts and her book already knows, improving services for people struggling with eating disorders was one of her goals. You can help achieve this goal by supporting CEED with a donation to the Isabel Whitcomb Stay Strong Fund. 

What I Have Learned So Far, by Genevieve Whitcomb

I wish that I could write this personal narrative from a point of view that is inspiring and full of strength after getting through these past few months following Isabel’s death. But in all honesty I feel like those are the things I’ve been lacking most since she passed. Isabel’s death has changed me in ways that other people may never be able to see and in ways that I may never even be able to explain. I wish that I could write something strong, the way Isabel did and the way she would want me to. But I wouldn't do her justice and as I write this, having to think about things I have been keeping pushed aside, I have experienced some of my weakest moments, and felt far from strong. So I will write about what I know I have learned from Isabel’s death: I have learned how to love.  

   

There was a poem I read somewhere that said “What do you do when there’s nothing but pain left inside of you, and what if everything we were looking for existed only in our dreams, how do you explain something you don't even understand yourself.” I read these lines and have never felt like something described the way I feel so well. I don't really know how to explain the way Isabel’s death has changed me, because I don't fully understand it myself yet. I don't understand grief at all. The way it tears me apart some days, leaving me to feel like my bones are made out of pain and my mind made out of guilt. And other days it’s just there, watching from a distance, I can always feel it but it doesn't always make itself known. The part of that poem that resonated with me the most is the line that says, “what if everything we were looking for existed only in our dreams,” I often have a recurring dream about Isabel. It’s a simple dream. My family and I are together and all of a sudden, Isabel will just come back. I can never remember where we are and there’s never any discussion about where she has been, but every time I see her a feeling of extreme happiness rushes over me. This is a happiness that I have genuinely never felt before, a happiness that I didn't even know I was capable of feeling. It feels so real and as soon as I see her I run to her and hug her and tell her how much I love her over and over again. She always laughs it off wondering why I’m confessing my love to her, but I never stop telling her and I never let go, always terrified that if I do she might disappear and the dream will be over and she will be gone again. Every time I wake up from that dream the first thing I want to do is text Isabel and tell her that I love her and miss her. I think that says a lot. I think that this is what I have struggled with the most since Isabel’s death is not loving her enough while she was alive.

I often get stuck on thinking about how much I hate myself for not doing more to help Isabel, when I knew she was struggling. I ask myself over and over again why I didn't do more to make Isabel feel included, to make her feel loved and make sure she was okay. Why I didn't do more to be a better sister, a better person to her. If I could go back I would change everything. I know that Isabel had a mental illness, a chemical imbalance in her brain and that something as simple as love wouldn't have saved her. But I don't care. If I could I would go back and love her loudly every second. I would make her feel the love that I have always felt for her but never used to show. I would tell her how funny she was, because even the memories of her that I have still make me laugh. When she was younger she taught our dog Max how to shake with his left and right paws but accidentally taught him the wrong way. When my mom told her that she had mixed up her left and right she looked at our dog and said “Max, I have some bad news.”  I would tell her how smart she was, because even though she ended up having to take classes online and had more work than anyone could handle, she still graduated from high school. I would tell her how proud of her I am, for helping people and for fighting for what she believed in and what she was passionate about. For writing about her struggles when I couldn't even talk about mine. For staying strong for so long and for being a light in people’s lives when hers was often dark. But now, I take all the things I can’t do with Isabel and I use them. I use them to love others while I still can.

Thinking about all the things that have changed since Isabel’s death seems endless. My whole world seems different. All sorts of dynamics in my life are changed because of the absence of Isabel. Every day is filled with moments that I am forced to remember that Isabel is no longer here, that I can no longer text her when I see something funny or draw with her when I go home for breaks. But I realize that this is my new world. I realize that I have to accept that I will be living in a world without Isabel forever. I realize that I cannot be the person for Isabel that I wish I had been, but I can be that person for the people in my life now. I will use what I have learned from Isabel's life to help others and I will use what I have learned from Isabel's death to heal. I will love those around me the way I wish I had loved Isabel. I will care for my new friends and my old friends and make sure that they are okay, and if they aren’t, do what I can to help. I will always be aware of how my words and behavior are affecting the people around me. I will be kind to everyone, especially those who are not kind to me because if the years that Isabel and I did not always get along taught me anything, it is that sometimes the people who seem to be the least kind are the ones that are in desperate need of compassion and kindness. And most importantly I will carry on Isabel’s goal in life to stand up to the stigma surrounding mental illness. 

Dividing Lines, by Susan Carroll Whitcomb

How many things in life are dividing lines that separate the before from the after? I read these words in a detective novel of all places (thank you, Tyler Dilts), and they jumped out at me.

I’ve been thinking about the dividing lines in my own life. We all have many. College, marriage, births of children, death.

Isabel’s death seems like the Grand Canyon of dividing lines in my life, even more than losing her dad. Nothing will ever be the same. It is really easy to make a long list of all the terribleness that her loss has brought to me, her brother and triplet sisters. It is harder to think of positive things since it feels like I should never be able to think of anything positive associated with my child’s death.

Is there anything constructive or optimistic? Since this giant chasm opened up as a dividing line to a new “after”, Isabel’s blog has been viewed over 45,000 times all over the world! About a week before she died, the number was around 6,500, and when she announced this, we gave each other a “high five” because we thought it was so amazing. I assume 45,000 page views means that some people are finding it helpful and probably sharing it with friends. (Our family has decided to continue Isabel's blog and post our thoughts periodically.)

Just before the holidays, we learned that the UNC Hospital Center for Excellence for Eating Disorders (CEED) has established the Isabel Whitcomb Stay Strong Fund. Thanks to donations from so many friends and family following her death, CEED has received well over $100,000, a lot of money for this relatively small but impactful center. As a result, a new program will be underway this year with the objective of building an education and referral network in North Carolina. Therapists will be identified and trained in family-based therapy for eating disorders across the state, and North Carolina pediatricians will receive education on the detection and treatment of eating disorders in their patients and help them guide parents to family-based therapy resources. A fundraising campaign will be launched by UNC Hospital to ensure this program will continue for years to come. Our family has made a commitment to be involved with this, and we will soon post the link to how anyone can contribute to the Fund.

Wow! These two positives make me feel both happy and incredibly sad. I am fiercely proud of Isabel. But I wish she was here to spearhead these achievements. I wish she could spend the next 80 years inspiring people with her stories and quirky wisdom. I imagine all of the things that could have been.

On the back cover of her book, Stay Strong, Isabel wrote “I am determined to be someone in this world, and I am determined to change people’s lives.” I hope she knows she is successful. And I hope she knows that on this new, unasked-for side of the dividing line, we can work to carry her legacy onward. In spite of my loss, I will Stay Strong.

Stand Up to Stigma, by Annie Whitcomb

This presentation is based on a research paper I wrote for my English class this fall, on the stigma of mental illness. An additional assignment was to turn the paper into a presentation, which has been a good way to spread awareness to my classmates. I am also sharing it on Isabel's blog since it is my way of continuing Isabel's fight against the stigma of mental illness. 

Stand Up to Stigma
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MS8ikimznWw&feature=youtu.be

Memorial Service for Isabel Whitcomb

Memorial Service for Isabel Whitcomb

For anyone who would like to listen to Isabel's memorial service, here is the recording. Faith Jones' most exquisitely beautiful version of "Hallelujah" begins around the 10 minute mark.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AAUHMDn9tz0&feature=youtu.be

Eulogies Celebrating Isabel's Life

Eulogies Celebrating Isabel's Life, October 8, 2016

By Susan Carroll Whitcomb, Isabel's mother

My beautiful daughter, Isabel, is gone from our daily lives. I now have two holes in my heart,the first one from losing Isabel’s father, Giles, 13 years ago and now, a new one.

Isabel was such a gifted writer that my own words feel inadequate.

My daughter lost her life as a result of a serious, life-threatening illness. Depression is like cancer, heart disease, diabetes and so many other serious illnesses. Like these diseases, depression can all too frequently kill those who have it. But there is one big difference. No shame is attached to these other illnesses. Depression is stigmatized in our society. Isabel wanted to overcome the stigma surrounding mental illness. Last December, she wrote “Depression is a terrible disease and seems relentless. A lot of us have been close to that edge, or dealt with family members in a crisis, and some have lost friends and loved ones. Let's look out for each other and stop sweeping mental illness under the rug.”

Isabel found her passion in her desire to help others. Now she is gone and although we are in horrible pain, I thank God that she is at peace and looking down on all of us with her Dad beside her. I thank God that we have many memories from her happier days, and that we have the book she wrote along with her poetry and art. While much of these writings chronicle her struggles and pain, her words are profound and wise far beyond the years of her short life.

Today and going forward, I feel compelled to carry on with what Isabel planned to do with her life:  she wanted to speak out about the realities of depression and eating disorders and make a difference in people’s lives. She wanted to educate society and help change how we look at those who are mentally ill. Since she started writing her blog almost one year ago, she received many emails and texts from friends and strangers. I knew about some of these but I have been overwhelmed over the past few days as I have discovered so many more. Here are a few words from one person:  “Isabel, I've been reading your blog ever since your mother shared it on her Facebook wall. I cannot possibly measure how much it has helped me and how much it has changed the way I deal with difficulties of any kind in life. I particularly love your post about dialectical behavior therapy skills. Opposite action, radical acceptance and self-soothing became my new best friends. I lost count of how many times I read that post. I even googled DBT, looking for more skills! That blog entry made me stronger and more in control of my life. I figured I can't possibly predict or change what life will bring, but I can control how I'll deal with it.”

As I move forward with my promise to take over Isabel’s mission – to work to improve services for adolescent psychiatric patients, to educate medical personnel about sensitivities towards those suffering from eating disorders, and to reduce the shame surrounding mental illness, I want to ask you to join me. You can take on Isabel’s mission too, even in very small ways. Please:  if you are struggling, reach out to a friend and ask for help; if you suspect that a friend is struggling, take her hand and be there; educate yourself about depression; change the way you think and speak about the mentally ill; and most of all, let’s be kind to each other.

Isabel wanted to make a difference in this world. I profoundly wish that a glimmer of light had appeared in her final moments of darkness. But together, we are going to carry on her plans.

Finally, two words from Isabel:  Stay Strong.

By Philip Whitcomb, Isabel's brother

On this day, while remembering the beautiful life of my sister Isabel, it’s so hard not to feel sadness and emptiness.  There is a hole in my heart that can never be filled.   There are so many happy memories that trigger sad feelings, and photographs capturing joyful moments that bring tears to my eyes.  Isabel was so uniquely beautiful on the inside and outside that no combination of words could ever do her life justice.  Isabel is no longer physically with us, but her spirit, strength, and passion will be embedded in our lives forever.

Growing up, there was a bond that Isabel and I shared that I can’t quite describe.  We used to joke that we were twins, since we had similar facial features and we found a lot of the same weird things funny.  However, when Isabel smiled, she definitely had way bigger dimples than I do.

The week before Isabel’s death, I had the pleasure of hosting her at my house in Blacksburg, Virginia at Virginia Tech where I’m a student.  The more time I spent with her that week, the more I felt a lot of the little worries in my life start to disappear, and I felt myself being able to see more clearly the things that are actually important in life.  She really had this courageous energy that she was unknowingly sharing with me while I was around her.

I was enjoying my time with Isabel so much that week that I remember waking up some mornings with pure excitement because I was about to spend the next few hours with her.   

I remember sitting down to eat lunch with Isabel in a dining hall, and my intentions were to see if I could help her with any of her ideas and projects and to maybe give her some motivational advice on goal setting.

But after lunch, I was the one who had been positively motivated.  Isabel told me all about her goals whether they were to create a “Stay Strong” temporary tattoo that she would sell and donate the profits of, to speak out to others about mental illness, to write an awesome second book, to start her own To Write Love On Her Arms chapter, or to positively impact people of all kinds.

  

Her ability to work towards her passions while she was going through this severe depression is something that truly amazes me.  That week with Isabel, the week before she passed away, I found myself living with more determination and enjoyment than before.  Just her being there with me had led me to new perceptions of my goals, and a stronger attitude when it comes to fighting through very difficult times.

Isabel wanted to one day become a motivational speaker.  There’s no doubt that she has already provided true motivation to so many people through her writing and her willpower to move forward.  Hearing about the lives of the amazing and strong people that she touched in her short life, I know that she would have risen above and beyond her goals to really make a difference and change the world in a meaningful way.

But the determination that I felt just last week during my time with Isabel was not temporary.  I feel it now more than ever.  Isabel’s incredible strength is going to be with me for every moment of the rest of my life.  While this is a time to mourn and remember our beautiful Isabel, we must know that the days will still come and pass, the seasons will still change, and this wonderful planet we call Earth will still rotate the sun in a vast universe of constant cause and effect.  And we must know that there are always those around us, who deep down at the core truly want to love and be loved.

And most importantly, we have ourselves.  We have the gift of life in a world so full of opportunity.  We have consciousness and the ability to think and act and impact other people in a profound way.  This much is obvious seeing how Isabel gave us so many powerful messages that we will carry with us for the rest of our lives.

And so now it is up to us.  It’s up to us to quit judging other people, to love one another without question, and to live every moment of our lives from here on out with more presence, more vitality, and more strength than ever before.  We need to live on for Isabel and to take every fresh breath of air with a new attitude.  We need to reach out to each other for help, and to love each other for who we really are.

The writing that Isabel has left us from some of her most vulnerable moments is a true blessing.  The strength that she showed the world and herself at the darkest and most difficult times is so powerful. 

The love that she gave to everyone and everything around her was so passionate and sincere. 

May the happy memories of Isabel soon make us smile, and may the photographs capturing her joyful moments soon warm our hearts.  And to Isabel who is surely looking down on all of us right now: we will stay strong.