child loss, bereavement, tcf canada, tcf, compassionate friends, grief, grieving

Dealing With Suicide

Our son David, died by suicide!
But, how could it have happened to us? Suicide is something that always happens to someone else. Could it be as a mother I was too permissive? Yes, that's it. I spoiled him, I indulged him. I wanted his world to be happy, perfect. I didn't permit him to taste the rough side of life, to know how to handle disappointments, discouragements.

No, that's not right. We really were too strict with him. Perhaps we were too harsh in our discipline that's it. In our parenting we required respect, courtesy, consideration. Perhaps we went just a little overboard in our discipline. We broke the spirit while trying to break the will.

We experienced ambivalent thoughts such as these, along with the feeling of failure as parents because our son was dead. Yet, our friend’s sons lived — so, they were the good parents and we were the bad parents. The feeling that “if only” his death had happened some other way — an illness, an accident in his car or on his motorcycle I never wanted him to buy. And what about a suicide for those of us who have “grown up in the Faith?” “Is there forgiveness?” What is the “destiny of the soul?”

Now, almost five years later, I am no closer to the answer to the big question WHY than I was before.
I believe it was very necessary for a time for me to struggle and agonize over the WHY, the “What ifs” and the “if only's.” It was just as necessary for me to lay to rest these unanswerable questions if I were to ever enjoy life again. When our son died, all I could do was zero in on the enormity of the loss. I could not see what I had left or that life would ever again hold any happiness for me. Now I can count my blessings in a way I never could before.

About my role as a parent? Given the same set of circumstances, the same inexperience in parenting, I would more than likely do the same things. After some time, I chose to start the day by saying to myself, “I made mistakes, there were things I did I shouldn't have done,” but not once did I begin my day by saying, “Let's see just how miserable I can make my children today.” I love them. I did the best I could.

What about the question of suicide vs. another type of death for my child? True, suicide carries with it perhaps more guilt and anger on the part of the survivors, and perhaps we have to deal with the “whys”and the “if only's” longer and in more depth, but in the three years I have been involved with The Compassionate Friends, I know now that my pain is no greater than those who have lost children by some accident or to a lengthy illness.

We know beyond any shadow of a doubt that our son loved us. We know he knew we loved him. This is very important to us now, and we hold on to what we know.

What we don't know is the “dark abyss of the soul.” We chose to believe that, though his death was at his hands, he had no more control than one who died from some other form of illness. He was ill.

How did we deal with the “destiny of his soul,” and find peace? It didn't happen overnight. I am a person of strong faith, who has gone through doubting, as perhaps many of you are doing now. I wish I could give you a pat answer, I can't. I choose to think about a God of love and mercy and not to dwell on one who condemns one who is ill enough to take his own life. I am a reader, and I have read just about every book I could get my hands on, which also included reading the Bible from cover to cover.

For those of you who ask how long, I can only speak from my own experience.  My fourth year, I started by setting goals for myself. It was my “good” year. Joyce Landorg, author of Mourning Song, says it takes from four to five years to survive a suicide. I do believe now that had I been involved with a sharing group, such as TCF earlier in my grief, the healing would not have taken as long. And by healing, I in no way mean I don't still hurt, I don't still miss, I don't still have my bad days. I do! But they are fewer now than they used to be, and most of the time I know better how to deal with them. It is good to once again experience some happiness.

Five years ago I didn't think it would ever again be possible. It would not have been had it not been for a loving husband, the constancy of caring by family and a very dear friend, and—so very important those of you who cared enough, even though your grief was as great as mine, to give of yourself, the greatest gift, in starting a chapter of The Compassionate Friends. My gratitude and thanks to each of you!

Anne Garrard
TCF/Atlanta Chapter