My advice to those recently bereaved by suicide

On Saturday my brother, Rob married his long term girlfriend Charlotte. It was a day we have all been looking forward to for a long time but obviously missed loved ones were always going to be conspicuous by their absence. This was particularly true of Simon who could so easily have been stood alongside me in the photographs. If only...
However, despite my pre-wedding fear that I would find the day especially hard, I actually didn't. It was a day filled with love and laughter and although I wish with all my heart that Simon could have been there, I more than got through it, it was actually almost a perfect day and I don't think I've felt as happy for years.
So it's almost two years now and I can honestly say I'm doing well. I'm never going to completely recover from losing my brother to suicide, I don't actually think it's possible but I'm ok with that and I know that the pain I once thought would consume me won't. Life is good. Not always but it's more good than bad and that's enough.

Sadly in the almost two years since Simon ended his life many more people have also lost loved ones to suicide. If I was going to give advice to somebody recently bereaved by suicide I think I would say the following,

 1. Whatever you're feeling is ok, chances are you can't even name all those feelings right now as they compete for space in your brain. Don't feel guilty if anger is one of the emotions you're experiencing. The person you love chose to die and whilst it's not a selfish act, it is still an act that has left you shocked to your very core. Acknowledge your anger then you can let it go.
 
 2. If you feel as if your head is going to explode then find an outlet that allows you even a brief moment of peace. The thoughts will come back but finding something else to concentrate on, even for a little while will give you just enough strength to carry on. Reading and later writing was my way of coping, I often read through the night.

 3. Talk, scream, cry, rage but don't forget to laugh. You are still here and although your world has currently been shaken from its axis you are going to carry on. As much as you'd love to go back in time it can't happen so remember the person you've lost by honouring the good times you shared. Then go and make new good times, you deserve it.

4. The person you loved chose to end their life because dying became less frightening than living. It wasn't an easy choice for them, at the moment they died it probably felt the only choice. They did not choose to leave you, dying wasn't easy but they felt life had become impossible.

 5. It wasn't your fault. Whilst right now you will be sure there was something you could or should have done differently, they made the decision, you didn't make it for them. You are no more to blame than when somebody dies of cancer or heart disease. You may not have spotted the signs because they kept them hidden from you or you may have tried your very best to get them help, whatever you did or didn't do doesn't make it your fault.

 6. It will get better. Right now you can't believe that, chances are you don't want to because feeling better means moving on without them. You have to move on though, they ended their life, they didn't end yours. It will get better and you will be ok with it getting better.  

This is my advice based on my experience, it's not meant to be prescriptive, you must do what is right for you. All I can really say is that I am so very sorry for your loss. It hurts like you can't imagine and there is nothing I can say that will stop that. That intense pain though, it doesn't last, honestly it doesn't.

If you have lost somebody to suicide and would like to write about it here, either about your loved one or about your own experience as somebody bereaved in this way, then please get in touch. Writing about it has helped me immensely and I would love to be able to help others similarly affected.

Fear

It's been a little while since I updated this blog but as always Simon is never far from my thoughts and as expected over the Christmas period that was especially true.
Just before Christmas we (me, my dad and my brother) traipsed across a muddy hillside battered by torrential rain and driving winds to finally scatter his ashes. We carefully checked the wind direction, chose a spot then Rob opened the container his remains were in and tipped...we hadn't taken into account the wind was swirling in all directions and like a bad comedy poor Rob was coated in a layer of the ashes. After a bit he handed the pot over to me and I too experienced the gritty sensation of my brother's remains in my eyes. It was an odd occasion really, in some ways we were glad the weather was so awful as it meant we were able to have our moment privately - but it was too windy to hear each other speak and so we didn't say any meaningful final words. I'm not sure what I would have said anyway to be honest, it's a very strange feeling watching ashes blow across a field knowing that they were once a person. I didn't really feel emotional, just empty. I guess there's some closure now, whatever that means. It's something that's not hanging over us at least, that stage has been dealt with.
And now it's 2014, the year Simon should have turned forty. So much is spoken about ageing and the fear of growing older, we read it all the time - "30 things to do before you're 30" as if there's a cut-off date and it's always "the big 4-0" because 40 can't be mentioned as a number - the Voldemort age. Ageing, growing old, dying; with each passing year we're reminded of that ticking clock. I realise now Simon didn't fear ageing, it was living that frightened him, believing that things would never get better. In the end I suppose dying became less terrifying than living. For me it's different and in a strange way the pain I've felt has been life affirming, if anything I appreciate life more since he died. I don't know if I'll ever truly come to terms with his suicide, I think there will always be a rawness to his death but I do understand more now that his decision wasn't made selfishly but was the action of a man who just couldn't see any other way.

Suicide is the single biggest killer of young men in the UK. In 2012 there were 5,981 suicides in the UK, of which 77% (4,590) were male (ONS, NISRA, NRS). CALM, the campaign against living miserably, exists to prevent male suicide in the UK. You can read more about their aims here; http://www.thecalmzone.net/about-calm/

CALM helplines (lines open 7 days a week, 5pm till midnight)
              Nationwide - 0800 58 58 58
              London - Call: 0808 802 58 58  To text: 07537 404717 (Include CALM1 at the beginning of your first message.)
              Merseyside - Text: 07537 404717 ( Include CALM2 at the beginning of your first message.)

The Samaritans (24 hours a day, 365 days a year) 08457 90 90 90

The Maytree Suicide Respite Centre supporting people in suicidal crisis in a non-medical setting. If you, or someone you know, could benefit from a one-off stay in a safe and confidential space, call 020 7263 7070 or email maytree@maytree.org.uk.
                             

International Survivors of Suicide Day

I am a survivor. I wish I didn't have to be. I wish I didn't now bear this label but it's what I am - a survivor of suicide loss. Survivor though sounds too final, like I've accepted my loss totally and am at peace. I haven't, perhaps I never will...but I am surviving. And of course I have no choice now, not really. From the moment I heard the news I started surviving.
I'm not the only one of course, there are millions of us, too many of us. Before I joined this group I'd give anything not to be a part of I had no idea how many, just how common it is. It's one of the secrets you learn once you're thrust into your new existence as one left behind following a suicide. Too many people die of suicide, too many people are surviving suicide loss, not enough people talk about it.
There is still a stigma to suicide and to mental health, it's whispered about, avoided, not looked in the eye. And every day more and more people have to start surviving. Next time your train is delayed by a suicide or your journey to work disrupted by a person threatening to jump from a bridge remember us.  Think of us hearing the news that our loved one has taken their life. Think of us having to learn to live with the loss, with the guilt, with the anger. Think of us having to learn to survive.
November 23rd is International Survivors of Suicide Day. To my fellow survivors, I will be...I am thinking of you all.

http://www.afsp.org/coping-with-suicide/international-survivors-of-suicide-day

With my brothers on holiday in the 1970s. Simon has the parrot on his arm.

World Mental Health Day

Today (10th October) is World Mental Health Day and so I felt I should contribute something through this blog. I've not suffered mental health issues - not yet anyway, I'm not conceited enough to think I never will. After all just look at these statistics:

• 1 in 4 British adults experience at least one diagnosable mental health problem in any one year, and 1 in 6 experiences this at any given time.
  (The Office for National Statistics Psychiatric Morbidity report, 2001)
• It is estimated that approximately 450 million people worldwide have a mental health problem.  (World Health Organisation, 2001)

Even those of us who don't suffer ourselves with a mental health problem are likely to know somebody who does. Up until August 2012 I didn't know just how affected I was going to be, until that one phone call to say my brother had killed himself changed everything. It can happen just like that; one moment it's an ordinary day and the next the tsunami wave after a loved one's suicide engulfs you. My post today won't do much, it's not going to result in a miraculous cure for somebody affected by a mental illness, The Sun isn't going to suddenly develop a conscience just because I'm typing this. What I can do though is add my small voice to that of others, so that together we can help reduce the stigma of mental health issues. I have read several blogs today from people directly affected; this is me saying I may not truly be able to understand what you're going through or have been through but I am here with you, I will not judge you or tell you to pull yourself together, if you want to talk I'll listen.


I have added a pledge to the Time to Change Pledge Wall, perhaps you would like to as well and help end mental health discrimination.

If you've been affected by suicide

I started this blog because I had to. After Simon died I felt as if my head was going to explode, I could almost physically feel thoughts racing through my mind, jostling for space and pushing their way into the forefront of my consciousness. Eventually I realised I had no choice and I had to write down these thoughts and words that were spilling out of me.
Has it helped? Without a doubt. I'm past that intense stage now but knowing there is a place where I can release my thoughts continues to help me.
What I didn't expect though was the response from people reading the jumble of words that poured from me. The kind messages from friends and strangers have been truly touching, words may sometimes feel futile but knowing somebody has taken the time to offer comfort really has meant a great deal to me, so thank you from the bottom of my heart. I've also heard from other people who have lost loved ones to suicide, or who are supporting friends bereaved by suicide. How people react to this most devastating of losses is always going to be individual but I have been struck by a common desire to connect with others who have suffered the shock of losing someone to suicide. Knowing that by sharing my thoughts and experiences I have even in a small way helped others is humbling and also helps me to believe something positive can come from Simon's death. I'd like to do more though and after thinking things over I've realised that one thing I can do is offer this space to others. If your life has been forever changed by suicide and you would like to share your story or your memories of your loved one then please contact me through the form on the right of the page. I will reply as soon as I can to arrange a guest spot.

World Suicide Prevention Day - We Care

http://www.iasp.info/wspd/index.php

Today is World Suicide Prevention Day and as somebody who will always be a person left behind it's a day that's very important to me. I wasn't able to prevent Simon's suicide and I'll never know if I could have helped because he never reached out to me. Would he have heard my words anyway? Really heard them? I know from his suicide note that he couldn't bear the pain any longer and that he was afraid of living more than he feared dying. He wanted peace.
I wish I could have told him that if he could just hang on then it could get better. And I wish he could have seen himself as I saw him. I think he felt a failure, he was addicted to heroin and had a prison record. I saw much more than that though. He was so gentle, so softly spoken and kind. After he died his friends told me how he always had time to listen to their problems. I loved seeing him around animals, he lit up in their presence. My daughters loved him too, he wasn't around much sadly - too busy battling his demons - but when he did visit they had so much fun. He would have made a wonderful dad had things been different. I have such special memories too, I was the eldest and he made me a sister. I had (I hate that I have to use the past tense here) two brothers and don't remember ever wishing I had another sister. We had so much fun growing up. Arguments and fights too of course, Simon was the hot headed one out of us and my other brother Robin loved to tease him, but we were so close in age (only three and a half years between oldest and youngest) and we played with each other often. I particularly recall the volcano game we invented in our back garden that we played for weeks, it was an obstacle course we set up really but we pretended we were in the depths of a volcano..
I recall waving him off at the train station when he was leaving to go travelling around Europe with his girlfriend, choking back the tears as he left...maybe I should have let him see those tears?
We weren't really affectionate with each other, not like I am with Rob. I wish I had been now, I think he knew I loved him but I wish I'd told him every time I saw him.

So today, on International Suicide Prevention Day, if you are feeling suicidal, this is my message to you; I care and other people care too. We may be a bit rubbish at reminding you of that sometimes, perhaps we're guilty of assuming you know it. You may feel you are a failure or a burden. You are neither,  you are loved, please believe that.
Nobody should have to die alone, the thought that Simon's last moments were about as lonely as you can be tears me up. Nobody should die alone.
We care.

If you are despairing and considering suicide you can find global crisis centres here; http://www.iasp.info/resources/Crisis_Centres/

If you are suffering the bereavement of a loved one through suicide there are resources here; http://www.iasp.info/resources/Crisis_Centres/

One year later

A year ago today the phone rang with the call that would rip my world from its axis. A lot has happened in that year. I've been to a hospital mortuary to formally identify my brother's body, spoken to a policeman about the needles found in his car, been to a travellers site and hugged the addicts who were his friends, watched his coffin disappear from view, gone on holiday two days after his funeral, seen my youngest daughter start school, held my 98 year old grandfather's hand as he slipped from life, helped organise his funeral, learned about steel framed houses, moved house, mourned the death of my 18 year old cat, had a routine mammogram as three generations of my family died of breast cancer (still waiting for the results).
I've also grown even closer to my other brother, made new friends, both in real life and online, been deeply touched by the kind words of both friends and strangers - the internet may be a dark place of bullies and trolls but there are also many thoughtful and decent people using it too. I've sat on the floor of my shower and sobbed, cried more tears than I thought was possible, read books that have changed my life, laughed, loved, danced and sung.
 I will always have a gaping wound - time doesn't heal everything but it becomes easier to bear. It's a year on and I'm still here.