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.
| Tammie | July 11, 2013 |
I lost my son in March of 2013. He hung hisself in our barn. He had been planning it for over 2 days. My soul feels so lost and my home is completely broken. I seeked the Lord to try to help the pain and sometimes it just doesn't help. I try to be strong for everyone and still find myself feeling like I am in a blackhole crying and can't get out. I am going thru a very disstructive stage and don't know when it will stop. | Debbie | July 7, 2013 |
Cry every night silently cause I really don't know what to do in how do you try and understand something I know nothing about
| Regina | June 29, 2013 |
I had known for years that my boy was depressed. I tried to get him to take the help but he would not. I though that he was doing much better till he and his girlfriend found out they had an STD, I knew that things were bleek for him but we managed to get through it and he became so very close to her parents after that which i was glad of as he live 500 miles aways. THen he and that girl broke up and he was so very depressed and i was so scared, i talked to him tons and again we got through it. Then he got a new girlfriend and i know she was the girl my boy was gonna marry and she would be the mother to my grandchildren some day. On August 31 2012 he called me that morning and he thought he had given the new girl the STD, i know when he called me that morning that my boy would not be there to see the sunset. I tried so hard called everyone i knew there, begged bargined and all the other things we do when we are at this point. Nothing helped and my son took his life. My life is a grand act now days. I hide my pain from everyone even my husband because he feels guilty that he could not make my pain stop it saddens him to see me down, and my girls get stressed when i am sad, so i cry in the shower, alone, life is hell. | Marie Duddle | June 28, 2013 |
My son passed away on 30 April 2010. He was 42, and died of a heart attack. Though he had been ill and we knew he had heart problems, it was a tremendous shock and the grief consumed me. Being a christian I found my strength from the only One I believed could give it, the Lord.In the meantime my eldest daughter Tertia was struggling in all areas of her life. Tertia was diagnosed with bipolar depression in 2006 when she attempted suicide the first time through medicating herself. She was in a coma for a week and the doctor's said it would be a miracle if she survived. Andre, my son, was still alive at the time and a ROCK of strength, supporting his mom every second.
Well, I prayed, we all prayed and God gave my beautiful daughter a second chance. In fact, this is when she was diagnosed as bipolar. When she was released from hospital, things spiralled downwards at an alarming rate. Before her suicide attempt she had gone on a spending spree and got into financial debt, which recorded her name with the credit bureau. She was an auditor, so obviously this affected her chances of finding work (she left the co. she was at after the 1st suicide attempt, as she was embarrassed by what she did!)
Eventually she had to move in with me and her stepfather. She would be "up" one day, with boundless energy. Somtimes she would paint the most beautiful paintings throughout the night, spring cleaning her place, and seemed to have such a spring in her step. Joking around, messing and fooling around with her son (16, stayed with his dad as she could no longer support him, what with no job).
Then, at times, I would return from work and her room would be dark, with my classy daughter just lying there with the curtains drawn. NOTHING helped, during these times of depression.
For a while I suspected she was abusing her tablets, because she would act "odd", but I think I was in denial. After all, this was my beautiful, INTELLIGENT daughter with a degree! She would not do something as stupid as that?
We had to move and were fortunate to find a place with a cottage on the premises.
This was a Godsend as living under the same roof put a strain on my marriage (my husband, her stepfather, though fond of her, had never had children of his own and could not understand her lack of direction).
For about 5 years I supported her, protected her, helped her, living in fear she would try again. One day she sat down with both me and her son and PROMISED us she would never attempt to commit suicide again.
Tertia had become a christian and on her own decided to go off her bipolar medication! She firmly objected to taking it, saying it made her feel like a zombie... the problem is, doctors told me (us) there is NO cure for bipolar, but she firmly believed God would cure her.
She was balanced for about two years, finding work in Thailand in 2011 as senior risk manager for a reputable firm. BUT when she returned to South Africa, the same thing - no jobs although she flooded the market with her CV.
Then, on 1 February 2013 (only 5 months ago), I returned home from work and her small cottage was ominously quiet. She usually could not wait for me to get home, just to have someone to talk to!
I had a very uneasy feeling, and cutting a long story short, after a short while decided to go to her... I still remember the sinking feeling when I called her name and there was no reply. I opened the front door to find my friend, my child, my pride and joy, had hanged herself from the bathroom ceiling... NEVER, NEVER, will I be able to get that image from my mind. It has been a living hell. For a short while it affected my faith... I was SO angry because the Lord did not intervene. Till I realised she had been given to me from her first attempt in 2006, lived with us, we had become oh so close, but more wonderful, the Lord had given her a reprieve. IF she died in 2006, she had not known the Lord! When He DID allow her to succeed, her spirit was pure, clean, wonderful as she had accepted Jesus as her saviour sometime ago.
Her last words in her farewell letter on the floor said :"I am so tired, I just want to be with my Lord".
so here I am, 5 months later, moving between missing both my son and daughter. But Tertia's death has left a scar, the greatest sadness, since it was so traumatic... and one thing I still ask of God.. though I say she is with Him, I need His confirmation of this. That my poor daughter, who had been treated as a stepchild of this world, is finally at peace. Till then I will continue carrying this burden, this sadness, this feeling of "what's the use" - yes, EVEN though I am a christian. Because to lose two children in 3 years, BOTH of them at 42 years old, has just about broken me.
| Ashlyn Simon | June 21, 2013 |
Our precious son took his own life on 1/26/2013. He was 25 years old. My son suffered from mental illness. I feel there were issues from birth, but the onset of what they thought was schizophrenia did not fully surface until last year. There are things we missed, as all parents do, but to blame yourself can never bring about peace. Our son appeared "normal" a few months after he was diagnosed last year. Then voices seem to surface again a few weeks before his death. He had spent the previous week in the hospital trying to get help for voices he heard in his head that told him to kill himself. He did not want to harm himself, so he sought help and was hopeful. He was released from the hospital with no follow up plan, even when the release papers said he did not have the skills to keep from harming himself. (Our mental healthcare system doesn't seem to have much, if any regard for human life.) Only two days after his release he was found dead. It all seems so unfair to me that anyone should suffer with mental illness. Yet I know, as Christians, we were never promised a life without pain. We were promised that God would never leave us, nor forsake us…and that I know to be true. God grieved, wept and was more saddened in that moment my son took his own life than I could ever conceive of. He was not alone, nor forsaken, just because God allowed it. My son had given his heart to Jesus many years before. When my son died, he went directly into the arms of his sweet Jesus and was carried home to Heaven. He lives in the glory of God now and has eternal life. Eternal life, with no more tears and no more pain. He has been set free, is healed and he is with our Lord and Savior. As a Mother, I would not ask that my son be returned from Heaven - Paradise with Jesus - to be on this earth once again suffering, just so his family could be with him…but, Oh how I long for the day I will see his precious face again in Heaven and get a hug from him. His hugs were THE BEST and if you didn’t hug him long enough or the way he wanted, he demanded a re-hug! I loved that most about my son. He was an incredible son, a devoted brother to his two sisters (best friend to his youngest sister) and a great friend to all. His friends from college said he could always be found on his dorm bed reading a devotional with his Bible open as well. He helped anyone he could, had an infectious laugh, and was so bright and extremely funny. He was the love of my life from the moment he was born.
From the moment we got the call, I was in disbelief, but as the reality of what had happened sank in, I thought, how can I survive a loss like this? I have been a Christ follower since I was a young girl and my faith was strong at the time. I made a choice, literally within minutes after learning my son was dead, to give it all to God and I asked him to help me, because I had no way of dealing with what was happening. The pain was all consuming, the anxiety was unbelievable, the desperation to somehow make it different was overwhelming and the fog was setting in fast. I was losing my mind and my will to live was gone. All I could do was scream, “where is my son, where is my son”?
What happened in the hours, days and weeks to follow was nothing less than a miracle. Within an hour of the news, friends of our 23 year old daughter that lived with us at the time, came over and stayed for the entire week. They coordinated meals, made phone calls, created memorial videos and greeted people that came to our home to give their condolences. These were all young adults 21 – 25 years of age. Our home was full to the brim with love, prayers, hugs and people that would bring about a healing in the months to come. The work that these young adults put into being there for our every need that week was unbelievable. What a testimony to our daughter's faith in God, her having like-minded friends, and the faithfulness of God. I had asked God to help me, and He showed Himself faithful - in tangible ways that first week, and in the months that followed.
I am NOT saying God spared me any of the pain, the tears, the sleepless nights, the running thru of the what-if's, the anger or the despair. He allowed me to experience those things, because such grief widens our soul and gives us a deeper and different perspective of other's pain and needs. Losing my son brought me closer to the Lord, as only He can sustain us in a time such as that. This level of grief has changed my life in ways I could have never imagined. I love others more deeply and have found compassion for everyone in ways I never knew possible. Oh how I wish I could have experienced these things in another way, other than losing my only son, but God took this unimaginable pain and grew me as a person to make me more able to love and serve others.
In the immediate days after my son died, I could not imagine life without him, but God reminded me that my son is ultimately HIS son and he was given to us as a gift. We were blessed to have shared in his life for 25 years. While I would have given my own life to spare my son's, that was not God's plan. He allowed what happened to our son. Am I mad at God because he allowed it? No. How could I be? If you know God's nature, you know he could never hurt us. If you find that you are not able to move forward in your journey of loss, then examine yourself and ask if you are fully giving it to God. If you hold on to pain and anger that comes with grief, you become stagnant in your life. You were not meant to die with your child, even though you feel like you did. You were born for a purpose, and no one but you can fulfill it. If you do not go on with your life, then the world will have forever lost out on the YOU that God intended for a special purpose in this life. (Romans 8:28 And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.) To know God is to know He does not allow things in our lives to harm us. One day, when face to face, we will see the picture of how ALL things worked together for our good...but here on earth, it is not clear because we look at things one by one. I can say though, looking back on the five short months since my son's death, I have seen God work in my life in ways I never thought possible. I would not be sitting here today typing these words without a personal relationship with God. My life would have ended when my son's did. I did not have the will to go on, the capability of moving forward or the mental tools with which to handle/deal with such a tremendous loss. God alone is the reason I survived losing my son. I sit here today, missing him as much as I did that day, but with joy in my heart that I will spend eternity with him in Heaven. My son was saved. Jesus was his savior. He accepted Jesus into his heart years ago. NOTHING, not suicide or any other act can separate us from our sealed salvation. My son lives in Paradise today with our Lord. When his earthly life ended, he began his eternal life. For those of us who remain here, it is a pause in time until we will see our children again, along with other loved ones who were saved and have gone before. So, I grieve, yes of course, but I grieve not like the world grieves. I grieve with Hope. Hope and assurance that I will see my son again.
Please know that God can bring life back to you. Life will be different, but you can experience new life. You can laugh again, and have days that you remember your child with joy in your heart and not the aching that debilitates your days. I made a conscious decision within hours of losing my son, to give over to God my desperation, my anxiety and the horrible feeling I was experiencing of falling deep deep in a bottomless black pit of despair. Because of that decision, He walks hand in hand with me in this journey. A journey I will be on until I draw my last earthly breath. It has only been a few months since my sweet son passed away, and yet, now when the pain, the anxiety, the what-if thoughts, etc. flood my mind, the Lord, almost instantaneously, stops it. His peace sweeps over me like a cooling stream on a hot summer day. I sit and think, how can this be? How am I not lost in my sea of grief, unable to function? ONLY GOD. God alone saved me and enables me to go forward in life and live out the remainder of my days doing what I was born to do...Serve God and Serve Others. I will not waste my life. My son is well, thriving and rejoicing in Paradise – he would not want me withering away to my death here on earth. He watches over me and cheers me on as I complete my race to the finish line of my remaining days of this earth. Whatever days remain, I will be found praising God, loving others unconditionally and beyond thankful that my son was saved and lives in Heaven with my other family that has gone before, who also loved the Lord. The best is yet to come in Heaven – our best days are NOT on this earth!!
Note:
The one book I found to be the most helpful to me and I recommend as a must read (other than the Bible) was this: A Grace Disguised: How the Soul Grows Through Loss, By: Jerry Sittser
| Elizabeth Mundy | May 30, 2013 |
| Traci Whitt | May 2, 2013 |
| Petra Goldmann | April 27, 2013 |
Monday 3/18/2013 started out as every other day, he woke up started went with his sister to get his drivers license.
after they came back he ate breakfast and started online school.
i had a 1 pm appointment with a client, he went outside to put the trash out made the cabinets we took out from the laundry room smaller so the waste company would take them.
I left for my appointment . He texted me at 1.50 pm that he would visit a friend and will be back soon.
when I came home after my appointment he arrived soon after , he took the dogs outside to the back yard, recorded a rap on his iPhone, called a friend and came inside the house a little bit before 8 pm.
the whole family of seven , I have 4 other kids ate dinner, we watched tv and alittle bit before midnight he said good night see you guys tomorrow.
the next morning when he did not came for his live lesson I sent his little brother to go and wake him up.
i was in my office when he came screaming Mami Calvin hung himself.
i screamed no no please don't let this be true, run into his room and it was true he hung himself with his belt.
he was a very loving, caring young men, whenever somebody needed his help his was there , gave them a big hug showed his big smile and told the, everything Bette get better.
we knwe he had some problems with the girl he loved, she played with him like a toy, one day she said she Loves him and the next she sent him a text that she found someone else.
this game went own for month, we told him that it would be better not to see her anymore, but we know now that he met her that last day we saw him alive.
what ever happened that night and why he did it we will never find out.
he left no note .
we could not find anything at his Facebook or on his phone which would show us that he was depressherald thinking about committing suicide.
he had appointments planed for the next day, his friend to who he was talking on the phone the last night, told us that he said he would meet him at the mall the next day at 1 pm.
he was exited to go to his grad bash party seeing Pitbull live at the universal studios.
he had A's and B,s, his graduation ceremony would have been June 1st, he had his gown and cap couldn't wait off high school to be over and start college.
Every day I can't stop thinking what did we not see, what did we do wrong. We gave him all our love, he had everything a teenage boy could have , saw the world with us, had sisters and a brother who loved him very much.
i play the last night over and over in my head did I told him I love u that day.
all I can think about when I wake up is him, seeing him hanging in his room andnwhen I go to bed.
we had him cremated and we bought a urn looking like a big ocean wave he loved the ocean, he loved the Bahamas
we went every year to Atlantis over thanks giving.
I cry almost the whole day, my other kids think I don't love the, that I only loved Calvin, because I check his facebook and iPhone every day if friend wrote to him again, telling him problems even they know he is dead and can't answer, sometimes I write them Bach and they tell me how special he was and how much they miss him now and how much they loved him.
i was already trying to kill myself by hanging, but the knot I made could not hold me and opened up.
where is the time machine when we could use one. Only possible in movies.
i know that one day I will see him again and I have to be strong and move on for my other kids.
i just don't know how, how can I move on, how can I forfget what happend to him.
all i ever wanted for him was to be happy, i look at the pictures of him the videos we made over the years in all of them he smiled
what happened how can a person show on the outside happiness and in the inside is a deep depression.
Beautiful handsome boy
treated like a toy pushed and shoved around
until his feet couldn't touch the ground .
| Adrienne Bennett | April 16, 2013 |
| Belle X | March 15, 2013 |
Every day I think about my parents. I love them and I don't want to hurt them. I love my sister too - she's my best friend. In the stories here, some parents ask "what did I do wrong?", but maybe you did nothing wrong. My parents were wonderful - they ARE wonderful - and I was never hurt. I was always supported. But I hurt now and I don't want to worry them. What if I don't have a job and have to rely on them? That would be so unfair. That makes me more anxious and more depressed. I want them to focus on their own lives and not worry about me. So maybe some parents here did nothing wrong and you should remember that.