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.
| Carol | January 28, 2017 |
| Carol | January 28, 2017 |
| Matthew Arri | January 10, 2017 |
At the age of 10, Josh diagnosed with a pituitary adenoma and a chiari malformation of the lower brain stem. Shortly thereafter, he began to display signs of depression and anxiety. One
One day while I was at work, our neighbor came to me and told me that our son was in the emergeny department at our local hospital.
His pediatrician recommended an adolesent inpatient hospital about 1.5 hours from our home. Josh spent about ten days there and then returned home. It was at this young age, that he began to talk about suicide. Depression runs in my family and I lost an aunt and a cousin to suicide when I was young.
At the age of 13, he began talking about hanging himself from a tree not far from our home because of the pain of his depression. He was not able to function well enough to complete junior high or high school, so my wife homeschooled him.
Our son was the most selfless person that I have known. Despite his mental anguish, he would give a homeless person his hat,gloves, or whatever was needed. He bought the homeless meals because they were in need.
Many of the prescriptions that he took had horrific side effects: insomnia, horrible constipation, etc. We discovered that he was allergic to Prozac after he complained of abdominal pain. His intensines had been burned by the medication.
If there was a prescription for depression and anxiety, Joshua took it. As a last resort, we took him to the Mayo Clinic three times last year. Last summer, he underwent approximatey ten electric shock treatments but to no avail. The doctors recommended that we place him in a full-time residential facility. Our son was not insane, just very, very sad.
Last October, we purchased a golden retriever puppy for him to train as a service animal. However, he continued to go downhill. We even found him a new counselor whom he really liked, but his neuro-chemistry was such that no amount of counseling would have ever helped him.
Our son made a promise to his older brother to live and attend his wedding which was scheduled for Friday, December 30, 2016. Josh appeared to have the time of his life and danced for a long time.
At the end of the evening, he told me that he was suffering an anxiety attack and wanted to make the two hour drive home to sleep in his own bed.
The next morning, New Years Eve, we found a note under our hotel room asking us to call our son. My wife immediately called him and he told her that he couldn't bear the pain any longer.
We immediately drove home and found that he had hung himself from a beam in our basement. We were very fortunate because he left us two notes explaining his suicide and even apologizing for the pain that he knew that he was inflicting upon us.
Our son, Josh, was a fighter and fought until he just couldn't bear the pain and weight of his own depression which overtook him.
There were hundreds of people who attended his visitation and hundreds who attending his memorial service. Today, I took a car full of his clothing to the Salvation Army and I am going back there again to drop off more items.
We are happy that our son is no longer in pain. But, our hearts ache inside because he is gone and will never be back.
As Christians, we know that we will be reunited with him in heaven someday.
| Leanne Wade | January 8, 2017 |
I think about my beautiful boy every day. the pain for me,is also physical. My heart literally hurts, my throat closes and I am too scared to open up to myself as I wouldn't know what to do. My baby is never far from my thoughts and mostly i have to push those thoughts back as the pain is too great. For me the agony of loosing My son gets worse in many ways as time goes on. I think the reality sets in of never seeing him again, to hug him or never hear his voice.
I keep busy and I have 3 other beautiful children. I try and surround myself with positive people. It is hard to live without my precious son and I can't undo what is done so I have choices, and what I want to do is spend the rest of my life in bed and not having to think, however I have other children that have also suffered and will always, therefore I need to be there for them as hard as it is everyday I won't add to their struggles.
| Basia | January 6, 2017 |
When I got home that afternoon, he was gone in my truck. He came home about 20 minutes after me but he didn’t have my truck and he couldn’t tell me where it was without going through a “signs” diatribe. I got upset and left in his car to try to locate mine. I found his winter gear hanging on a post down the street and after 15 minutes I went back home. When I walked in the door I called his name but he didn’t answer. I thought he must have finally fell asleep again so I went to his room to check. I found him on his bedroom floor with a huge hole in the side of his head, blood all over and brain matter on the walls. That horrible image is the last I have of him and will remain with me till the day I die. I was comforted though to think that it happened quick and that it was an accident. Since having the ‘spiritual awaking” he had decided he was going to get rid of his rifles so I figured he was preparing to do that and didn’t know one of the guns was loaded etc. That little peace I had was shattered though when the detective came to tell me the coroner's results. After all the blood was cleaned off him, another gaping wound was found from his chin to his nose. He had stuck the barrel to his chin but must have flinched and blew part of his face away. I’m sure he was in horrible horrible agony and realized how screwed he was, then somehow was able to point the barrel at his head and pulled the trigger again.
i will never know what was going through his mind for him to do such a thing, specially since he was so happy and had plans set up for the near future. Since it has been less than a month, I know his death has not fully set in. I cry alot when I think how I could have prevented his death, how there will be no future milestones to share and just how quiet the house is without him. When Robby was 5 years old, his father and I divorced. Since then it was just the two of us. We spent so much time together, learning from each other, exploring the country, laughing and crying. Thankfully, Robby has/had a tight knit group of friends who are like sons and daughters to me and we are a great source of strength for each other.
| Ann | December 24, 2016 |
| Ginny Mazzoni | December 22, 2016 |
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| Kathy Bergant | December 15, 2016 |
On April 5th 2016 I went to vote in my states primary election. My son Adrian was supposed to go with me,but changed his mind last minute . He said it was such a beautiful day he would walk the four blocks. After I came out I noticed a group of three black teenagers walking on the side walk on the other side of the street. One stoped at the corner and said how are you doing as I passed him by . I said fine and how are you? He said gooxd I walked to my son's car and heared someone running behind me. I am deaf so I wasn't able to hear him till he was right behind me.He grabed me around the throat in a head lock and tryed to get the car keys out of my hand. I struggled and manovered him to being in front of me. I had ahold of his shirt at the neck and wouldn't let go . I wouldn't let go of the car keys either. I wasn't about to let him Jack my son's car which he used to deliver Pizzas at Dominoes,and our only means of transportation as mine was in need of repairs. Since I chose to put up a fight he bit me on the back of my hand to get me to let go of him. Blood was streaming all over the place but still I wouldn't let go of him or the keys. So he punched me in the face and nose 7 or 8 times knocking my glasses of and go the keys away. He ran around the front of the car to the pasenger front side door and tryed the key fob. Suprise punk its the fob for my Toyota not my sons Honda. At the same time a man in a big black SUV drove around the corner so he took of running with my keys and his friends went too. I knocked on the side window of the SUV and quickly told the guy what had just happened and to call the cops. He did. Then he parked his SUV and was going to stay with me till the cops showed up. A car was parked in back of me and the owner just came out from voting. He was an off duty police officer. He asked if I called the cops and when I said we had he drove off in the direction they ran. He followed them all the way into a church parking lot where he lost them when they jumper a six foot fence. The cops came and the fire deoartment too. The cops questioned me and called my son. he came and took me to the hospital to get stitches and exrays. He blamed it happening on himself because he was supposed to go with me and didn't. The next day we met some friends at a restraunt we all meet at once a month. It was obvious what happened and my so called friend Vonnie Kissner told my son until you can get the locks changed you better take the guns out of the safe and load them because they can look up where you live from your licence plate. This scared the crud out of my son because what would happen if they came to the house and got in while I was alone and he was at work because they had my house and car keys.
this was wensday . I was attacked on Tuesday. On Thursday he made me give him the key to the gun safe. I had hidden it from him because he liked to drink to excess and get the guns out and look at them and target shoot. I was afraid of something happening. Ive allways been scared of guns. so he got the 22 pistol out of the safe and we were looking at it while it wasn't loaded. Neither of us knew anything about guns . We had inherited them 2 years earlier from my father. We noticed the safety wouldn;t move. We didn't know iut was because the gun wasn't loaded. He then showed me how to load the clip put it in the gun and pull back the hammer on the 22 pistol semi automatic. we then took the bullets out of the clip and I tossed both the bullets and the pistol in my nite stand. The next night was Friday night and he chose to drink a pint and a half of brandy. We watched a movie and then horsed around doing our marshal arts and challengeing each other to a contest of chinese splits. we were laughing and hugging and happy. then I went to bed and got woke up two hours later by the howling of my blind and deaf dog who was lost and confused in my room.
Once I wake up I can't get back to sleep so I went in the living room to watch Netflicks about ten minutes later Adrian came out of the bedroom stood next to my chair and asked me a question which to this day I do not recall what it was. My answer to the question was I really don't think it matteres. He then took the gun from behind his back put it to his left temple and said " does it matter now" and pulled the trigger. He got a look of suprize on his face when he was shot. I flew out of the chair and gently led him to the floor . I held the side of his head where the hole was so blood wouldn't escape and dialed the phone to call 911 with the other hand. when blood came out of his opisite ear and pooled out of him I knew he was dead. The ambulance took 15 minutes to get there and when they came they went to the next block and I flaged them down.Incompetant morons! The cops came at the same time and ushered me into the kitchen while they investigated the scene. they asked me if I had been shot two because they found 2 bullet casings. I said no I don't think so the officer saud mam you tracked blood through the kitchen and your foot is bleading. I hadn't noticed because I was in shock at seeing him die in such a violent senseless way.
Adrian was my only child. He was 28 years old. He was a gentalman ,and a nice guy. He loved his family very much. He took great care of me his mother as I was disabled and couldn't work. He kept me going. If it wasn't for him I would not be alive. We shared so much. We were two peas in a pod. we thoght the same thoughts at the same time and even finished each others sentances. He would never commite sucide all his friend said so I said so. He even told me he would never kill himself except he is dead . I will never know if he planed it ,it was spure of the moment and he held the gun up to his head and pulled the trigger not knowing there were two bullets left in the gun.
I am devastated! my world has collapsed. I lost the love of my life. I have nothing to look forward to anymore. There will be no more birthdays,holidays,movies dinners laughter,arguments, teasing each other ,standing up for qne another having each others back . I will never go to his wedding , hold his babys in my arms. He won't be there to take care of me when I'm to old to do it the way I did for my parents. I don't want to live anymore. There is no rime or reason to this. He was my life . I have no life anymore. It's just me and his cat in this big empty house alone with our grief our screams our tears. The sleepless nights because of insomnia and the flash backs from PSTD, The anxiety and panic atacks the extream depression and nightmares are my constant companions. Thanks Giving sucked being without him. Christmas will suck too. It's been 8 months since he died on April 9th 2016. Even tough I see a Psychatric nurse practicioner ,and a Psychiatrist both who are very good. it doesn't change the fact that he died. The medication they give me not to be a basket case only does so much. I know I'll always miss him kean for him, cry for him. There will never be another person who loved and cared for me as much as he did.I will never care for another person or love someone the way I did Adrian. I miss his voice ,his smell his, touch his laughter his strength and gental soul. I will never just heal and get over it. as some stupid people have told me to do. I don't want to. How do you get over loosing a beloved child. You don't I know I won't. Nothing will ever be as good as it was when he was alive. I wish I would just get sick and die. Ghen we could be together again. And I wouldn't be in pain anymore. Adrian I love you allways have allways will.
Your mother.
| Teresa Roberts | November 20, 2016 |
| Debbie hale | November 16, 2016 |