How do I live with my son's suicide?
It was a lovely quiet Sunday morning, on 5 February 2006, when my life irrevocably changed in the blink of an eye. My husband and I were on our way to the shop when an emergency vehicle passed us with loud sirens and flashing lights. In my ignorance I said to my husband I wonder who died now. In the meantime the vehicle was on its way to the scene where my son Emile, 20, hanged himself during the Saturday night or early Sunday morning in a weeping willow tree in a park near our house. I will never forget those words I uttered. About a half an hour after we returned home children from the neighborhood called my youngest son to our gate. They informed him that a young man, who fit Emile’s description, committed suicide in the park. We quickly drove there. The area at the tree looked like a crime scene. Emergency and police vehicles and personnel were everywhere. The place where my son was lying was surrounded by police tape. I told the trauma officer I thought it could be my son. He led me to a body lying on the grass under the tree covered with an emergency blanket. I stood there looking at my son’s face in shock. It was like a dream, I could not believe my eyes. It couldn’t be true. I kept asking my husband if I was dreaming, it couldn’t be Emile lying there dead. Everything felt like a nightmare, the daylight was blinding and I heard a roaring noise in my head. The trauma officer spoke to us but I did not understand one word he was saying. We went home and I started phoning family and friends to tell them. Nobody believed me because I didn’t cry and told them in a matter of fact way that Emile hanged himself. The only thing that went around and around in my mind was: “It can’t be, it can’t be, my son can’t be dead. This is all a nightmare and I’m going to wake up any minute.” On the Sunday evening I returned to my senses and realized it was true. I never understood the meaning of keening, but that night I keened for hours and the weeks following Emile’s death. It felt as if I was going insane. My thoughts were in disarray and I felt anxious the whole time. The next day we had to go to the mortuary to identify him. It was the most horrid experience I ever had to go through. I could not believe he was lying dead on that cold slab of cement. It didn’t look like my beautiful son. My heart was torn into pieces and I felt like dying of a broken heart! Every day was a nightmare. A part of me died with my son on that fateful day and I couldn’t function in a normal way. I stayed in bed for weeks and all I could do was cry my heart out. Every night I was on the Internet for hours searching desperately for somewhere, where I could share this unbearable pain I was feeling. I phoned radio pulpit every day and told my story to Christian therapists over and over in the hope that someone could make it better for me. There was nothing in South Africa apart from The Compassionate Friends who helped me tremendously. There is no help for the unbearable pain a parent experience after the suicide of a child. Nobody out there understands what you are going through. There is nothing anybody can do or say to make you feel better. For months I ate almost nothing and didn’t cook or clean or did anything in the house. It felt as if I was all alone on earth. I couldn’t imagine a future without Emile. I couldn’t think properly or remember anything I did or said or what anybody else did or said. I didn’t remember anything that happened to me, I was on autopilot the whole time. The worst thing was that Emile didn’t leave a letter or anything to explain this to me. I searched everywhere like one possessed for anything that could explain why my son did this awful thing. I searched the area under the tree and in the tree for a clue. I scratched around in his clothes and searched every pocket and place for something to give me an idea why my son did this. The questions are still driving me insane. Why, what? What was wrong with my son I didn’t see? Was I so selfish and self centered I never realized there was something wrong with Emile? I still blame myself that I didn’t realize what was going on in his mind, what he was planning. What did I do wrong in his life, where did I fail as a parent?
I look at other parents with big sons and I can’t believe that Emile isn’t here any more. I didn’t just lose a son to suicide, but a friend. The sorrow and despair is indescribable, and if you don’t find yourself it that situation, you can never imagine what parents go through. I started an e-mail support group for parents who lost their children called Loving Arms. We share our heartache and support each other with encouragement and understanding.
Nobody understands this hell and they don’t know what to say to you. People in their ignorance say all kinds of stupid things to a parent in this situation. They say things like: “Your son committed suicide and that means his soul will never find rest, you have another child live for him now, you need to get over it now and carry on with your life”. And it does nothing to change the destruction in your mind it just adds to the pain and heartache. On more than one occasion I just wanted to scream out at them: “please just leave me alone, you have no idea what you are talking about. My son is dead and I don’t know why.” I was on a suicide mission of my own for months and landed in hospital after I tried to overdose with tranquilizers.
Nobody can come through this pain without any help. It is an emotional roller coaster ride and you never know how you are going to feel in the next moment. One minute you are in this deep dark hole of despair, and the next you feel so angry that this abominable thing could’ve happened to you. Then there are days when you feel quite calm. On other days all you can do is cry uncontrollably and feel as if you will never ever be normal again. My perception of life changed completely, and things that were important in the past don’t mean anything any more.
Our Nick
The words your are writing are so true, I am still numb...we lost our 17 year old July, 30. He shot himself.
Jogie Javier |
July 25, 2015 |
Suicide does take away the pain...
It gives it to someone else... my eldest son Joche, couldn't cope with the pain he was enduring anymore, so he ended his life on 2/5/2015. I blamed myself cause I talked to him and 19 minutes later he hung himself. Unimaginable and unbearable pain that I felt the first few months. I went through all negative emotions associated with grieving. I didn't want to live anymore. My son unknowingly gave me his pain. Suicidal ideation and act was upon me. Then I realized who would I give my pain to? My wife, my 2 younger sons, my parents, siblings? That's when I made my decision that life goes on. Nothing we can do about what our children did to end their suffering. I cannot blame myself anymore. Not to grieve or be sad no more = STAY PRESENT! LIFE GOES ON. How We Perceive The Universe Reflects Our State Of CONCIOUSNESS. We will all be reunited with our departed love one someday.
My Sweet Son
Thanks for this site, I am sorry for your loss. It has been 12 weeks since I lost my son to suicide(4/28/15). He was a beautiful 26 y/o with a heart of gold but a troubled mind. He fought mental illness and drug addiction for 8 years. During those times he had some happiness too. He saved a life, helped others in recovery, and loved people deeply. He couldn't cope with life as it had been handed to him. We supported him as best we could and loved him endlessly. I miss him so much, some days I cannot function and just sit around thinking of him. I was probably the last one to talk to him telling him how proud I was of him and ending the conversation as always with Love you Buddy. He was in an inpatient rehabilitation center when he left this earth. In the last weeks he was really wanting to come home. I couldn't understand why and the couselors said he was not ready. So we left him there and that is my biggest regret even though people tell me it wouldn't have mattered, how do they know? He had earned his way up to some freedoms and walked over to the barn on the property and hung himself in a sitting down manner. When they first saw him they thought he was praying but did not respond when they called his name. I hold onto the thought that maybe he was praying that God would bring him home. I rest in knowing he is out of pain but my my pain is somethimes overwhelming. I hope and pray I can find joy someday soon. To all who have lost children to suicide I feel your pain. It is so hard (crying.......................for us all).
My son Joshua
My son Joshua has suffered with mental illness and it's pain and anguish for over eight years. This past Friday, he put a shotgun to his temple and pulled the trigger. I had spoken with him a few days eariler, making plans to go visit him. He had moved to Taos, NM to live "On the Mesa", which is sort of a hippie commune (google it), about 20 miles north of Taos proper. He had been there several months after hitchiking across the country over the past year. He seemed SO HAPPY and grounded the last few months. He was in a community of people who loved and accepted him for who he was. He was in nearly constant contact with me and his siblings, although he was not getting along with his father at the time. He spoke to his sister that morning, talking about his new mango salsa recipe, and excited over what he was cooking for dinner that night. He spoke to his friend down the road, asking for a ride to town later so he could get some provisions. He had a girlfriend that none of his "circle" liked or trusted, and they had argued the night before. She was already in town running errands, and they had been texting as well. When she came home, she found him in the bed, and it was already too late.
On Wednesday, I get to see my beautiful, sweet boy one last time before they take him for cremation. It's still surreal trying accept the reality of this situation. I can't really accept it yet; not until I see him. Many say I should not see him, but it is something I MUST do to have the closure I need. I've already been told I will not be permitted to touch his face, but I can touch his hands and feet, and take pictures if I wish. This is all too much to bear. Sadly, I felt this day might someday come....but not like this. A drug overdose maybe? But not like this. My heart is broken.
Hang On, Parents, Time Helps
Vince was almost 20, doing well and loving college -- a Junior student already -- when he became despondent over a girl he considreed the Love of His Life moving on (as teenage girls do) to another guy. He jumped off a 3 story building, and I learned about it when police from a nearby town called to tell me.
That was 9 years ago today, and no, I am not the same person as before my beautiful boy left the world. But he was not just a body, he was also a spirit, and he is with me. I dream of him and sometimes he comes around as a presence -- one time (this sounds so crazy) I am sure he fixed a virus that was disabling my computer. He is a strong and present memory for me and for people who knew and loved him.
Hang on, parents. I hope you will find that time is a healing force for you. I am thinking of all of you with new wounds and disbelief. I have been where you are and I feel your pain. Please hang on. Time helps.
With love, Barbara
The Pain is Unbearable
My son ended his life two weeks ago at the age of 23. He suffered from bipolar depression. The last five years have been hell and now I don't know what is worst.
I lost my husband 15 years ago to sudden death and now this. I join every support group I would for young widows. I did group counselling, family counselling and individually counselling.
I do not know where to begin.
How to live with my daughter sicide?
My name is Annette, and June 9, 2015 I lost my beautiful daughter she took her life, she was 29 years young. I am in so much pain, I feel like I let her down, we talked and texted everyday, and I would see her everyday at work, we have worked together for the past five years were I got her a job with the company I work with after her divorce and she moved from California back to North Carolina.
Over the past several months she started missing alot of days having alot of Doctor appointments. Then she stopped coming to work she missed the last six weeks of work, saying she was going to the doctor and they could not find what is wrong with her, doing lots of test.
I asked number of times if I could go with her, and she would always say no mom I am ok.
I would go to her house and bring food for her and her cats, she would not let me in the house she would meet me outside the door...I knew something was very wrong, she just seemed to give up on life. She stopped caring for herself and her home and her job.
I text her Saturday night June 6th asking her if we could get together Sunday and go to lunch or just hang out at the house, she responded No mom I love you yet I have plans Sunday.
When she did not answer my calls Monday or texts, I told her I was worried and if I didnt hear from her I was coming over, I could not leave work Tuesday morning so I called her manager of the and asked them to please stop by her apt and let me know that her car was out front and if she asnswered the door.
Within 10 mins she called me back and stated that her car was out front yet no one answered the door, I called the police and they went over, the manager again called me back and said I am so sorry for your loss...
Like the others who have written I feel loss dead inside, I have to be at work yet my dyas are filled with tears and I find myself talking to a co worker and stop going blank not even knowing what I was talking about, my husband says maybe I should talk to someone... the only person I want to talk to is my Missy my baby girl Andrea...HELP
My precious baby boy
On May 16, 2015, a little over a month before my sons 20 birthday he took his life. I had not seen him since he left the
day before when he went out with his friends. The morning of his suicide he called me and asked if I would be going shopping. I told
him I wasn't sure. I decided to go since I hadn't shopped since I had major surgery to remove a 10 lb tumor out of my stomach 3 weeks earlier.
At one point I almost came home at 12 a friend talked me into staying and finishing my shopping. By 3:17 pm I was on my way home and called him, something was wrong I could hear it in his voice. I asked him are you ok, he said he was ok, I asked are you sure? He said yes. We hung up without saying love you, I would be seeing him in a half hour. I tried calling him back several times to see if he wanted to call in a pizza and I could pick it up. I began to panic and called the neighbor, she didn't answer. I got home both his vehicles were in the driveway, I got out and tried to open the door. I had to go back to the car for the house keys. I walked into the kitchen and the first thing I saw was the suicide note. I only read the first few lines and went into a frantic search I ran upstairs and down to the basement He wasn't there. I started making phone calls. I thought he took off so I went looking for him. My friend called and said did you look under the decking? I ran down to the backyard and there was my precious baby boy. He had shot himself with a 12 gauge. My life as I knew it ended at that moment! I had raised him on my own and we were best friends. He had been having issues with his girlfriend and didn't want to talk about it. I am now alone in this.
I wake up every morning asking God to take me today, please! Please God take me too!
I don't think this will ever change. I don't want to be on this earth anymore he was my future, my hope and my life.
My son hung himself.
My youngest son hung himself right after he asked for a fan and I wouldn't give it to him. I found him myself alone at 3am in a dingy basement. This was on the 11th. I'm so lonely because I never married. Hell...I was married to my kids. I'm so lonely.
My Son Patrick
One week ago my world exploded - there was a knock at my door - it was my eldest son and his wife. My son stepped inside, put his arms around my waist, looked in my eyes and said "Patrick has been found dead in (another town). Suddenly, there was this loud buzzing in my ears and I could only stand there, clinging to my firstborn and wailing. They took me home with them to watch over me, then I spent a few days with my dear daughter. But it came to the point that I had to come home, be alone and just scream and pound on the walls.
Patrick is my youngest child. He was 29 years old when he hanged himself. He and I "got" each other - there was nothing we couldn't talk about - or so I thought. Why didn't he call me, text me, email me to tell me he was feeling this low? He had downed a whole bottle of whiskey that night, and I try in vain to console myself with the the excuse that his thoughts were distorted by depression and alcohol.
Patrick was the kindest, gentlest, most caring young man who had suffered many failures in his life. But his way of dealing with feeling bad about himself was to try to help others - I guess making someone else laugh and ease their pain was his way of easing his own pain.
Even though he was 29, he'll always be my beautiful blue-eyed baby boy. I will love you and miss you forever Patrick
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