When Suicide Happens

It’s incredibly tragic, but the reality is … suicide happens.

The word itself is hushed, shunned, or at best, spoken in whispers. Yet it begs to be acknowledged, aches to be resolved.

When suicide happens to someone you know, perhaps someone you love, it shatters your world. No, I’m sorry. That’s an understatement. It really fucks with your world.

Even so, please know that it can get better. How do I know? I’ve been there. I was on the other end of a phone call telling me that someone I dearly loved had just committed suicide. I remember my legs collapsing in the kitchen, the visceral scream. I remember the pain, the anger, the guilt, the sadness, the blame and other emotional minions that, for a time, overwhelmed my mind, my soul, and my life.

Thanks to very loving and supportive family and friends, I found ways to acknowledge the pain, to reconcile the loss. And I didn’t let the suicide permanently suffocate my soul, my spirit.

I’m just a survivor; not an expert. Even so, I suppose this is why a dear friend contacted me when suicide happened in her daughter’s world. The text ended with “tell me how to help her!”

Below are some insights I offered my friend, with the hope of helping her to comfort and support her daughter through the days ahead.

• Acknowledge her deep pain and loss of a friend.
• Let her vent any way she needs, without judgment. Anger, sadness, tears, and humor are all natural responses to shock.
• Remind and assure her that she could not have changed a thing; to not carry any part of that burden.
• Lovingly and gently redirect any blaming of herself and of others. Remind her that suicide is the result of an illness and a personal choice.
• If the friend had died of cancer, she couldn’t have changed it. The same is true of illness that results in suicide.
• If the friend had died in a car accident due to reckless driving, she couldn’t have changed it. Same with a choice that results in suicide.
• Suicide will not (and need not) ultimately define your daughter, her friend, or their relationship.
• Do grieve the loss, but don’t dwell on the cause of the loss. Instead, try to respect and cherish the person (and associated goodness) that was lost. This mindset is particularly helpful when trying to plan memorial services for those who died by suicide.
• There will come a day (and it will take time) when your daughter’s memory of her friend will first be filled with the lovely things, not just the way he died.

That last point was a promise made to me while talking to my cousin on the eve of my Dad’s memorial service. She, too, had lost a loved one to suicide. All of the emotional minions were attacking me, and I was struggling to write something for the service. Her promise helped me to temporarily cast those tormentors into a box so that I could write about my Dad … the way he loved me, and the way I loved him. So that I could respectfully and lovingly remember him.

In the weeks that followed, I faced that fucked up world head on … and grieved my way out of it. Today, I can honestly say there are many lovely things I think about first when I think about my Dad. Right now, I’m remembering his generous spirit, his fat, puffy lips that kissed my cheek, his hugs, how he smelled of Stetson, and the sound of his voice when he said “Love you, Cheryl Lynn.” Yeah, that’s my Dad.

Cheri

P.S.  In addition to my amazing family and friends, I found these two resources to be particularly helpful and comforting:

• My local GriefShare Support Group
• No Time to Say Goodbye, a book by Carla Fine

P.S.S. - I recently discovered this web resource that may also provide comfort: Alliance of Hope for Suicide Survivors.

I know from experience, it won't always feel this way.

If you are having suicidal thoughts, please contact the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline by dialing 988. There is help and hope.