One day at a time

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Losing your partner in any circumstances is terrible, but when he has taken his own life the grief is unimaginable. Carolyn Parfitt discusses this painful subject.

“I lost my husband to suicide early last year. The youngest of my three children was nine at the time. I had only been in Australia for two years and had yet to make any close friends, apart from my neighbours, who were my lifeline after Sam’s death.

I’ve been left penniless and, as I’m not an Australian citizen, do not qualify for Centrelink payments. I have no family I can turn to and have since been to hell and back. I became suicidal myself; I ended up in hospital and my children were placed in temporary foster care. I’ve had to work really hard to keep my equilibrium, and my youngest son has suffered sleepless nights. The hardest thing is my husband did not suffer from mental illness, drug abuse or anything. I’d sell my soul just to talk to someone who honestly understands how hard the isolation is. I am a cancer survivor and it’s easy to find a support group for that. We also lost a daughter and I always had the support of other bereaved parents, but there’s nothing for people whose lives are affected by suicide. I’m thinking of starting a group myself. I’ve gone from being happily married to a widow who doesn’t know how she’s going to feed her children.”
- Marianne, Gold Coast, Qld

It seems so unfair one person should have to endure so much. I can only try to imagine how shocking and confusing it must be to have your picture of life change dramatically overnight. I’m so sorry for your loss, Marianne, and I’m full of admiration for the way in which you have pushed on in the face of it. You sound like a person with much to offer – if you do start that support group, some good will come of this awful tragedy.

You’re not alone
In Australia, suicide now takes more lives than road accidents. Each year, hundreds of spouses, siblings, parents, friends, grandparents and children experience the pain of a suicide. Work colleagues, police and ambulance officers and others who may not have even known the victim are also affected.

The most recent figures available show that in 2004, 2,098 people took their own lives in Australia and nearly 80 per cent of them were males. The number of people killed on the roads that year was 1,598 – and it’s possible that some of those were actually suicides, too. Fortunately, the suicide rate is declining.

Why didn’t I know?
Suicide has the potential to leave its ‘survivors’ – those bereaved by suicide – with an enormous amount of emotional and psychological baggage. In addition to the sadness and grief that follows the loss of any loved one, suicide survivors experience relentless self-questioning, which can be agonising. The person who died has taken their explanations with them, leaving a gulf of understanding between us and them.

You’ll ask yourself ‘Why?’ a thousand times, then ask it again. Even more painfully, you’ll also ask, ‘Why didn’t I know?’. Yet very often, as it seems to be in your case, Marianne, these questions just can’t be answered and never will be. As impossible as it may seem right now, you’ll eventually find a way to accept that fact.

Many people bereaved by suicide say it’s the feeling of abandonment that hurts the most. This feeling, of being rejected, is one of the things that make suicide different from a loss caused by an accident or even homicide. As you have experienced, there is also a greater stigma attached to suicide and people often don’t know how to discuss it.

What if?
No doubt you have already imagined a host of scenarios that, had they occurred in the time before your husband’s death, would have resulted in him still being alive today. Nearly everyone who has a loved one who suicides will struggle with such images.

It’s asking a lot of yourself to have some sort of superhuman power to prevent a course of events that you had no control over. ‘What if’ only leads to blame, without any positive results. Also beware of the word ‘should’, as in ‘I should have known how he felt’ or ‘I should have been there’, which usually makes you feel bad. Your job now is to take care of yourself as best you can. Try to ensure you recognise when help is being offered and say yes.

The need to understand
A year and a half isn’t really much time to recover after such a devastating blow and no-one should expect you to be ‘back to normal’ by now. ‘Normal’ will never be as it was; it will just be a new ‘normal’ somewhere down the track.

Part of the process of coming to terms with your husband’s actions could involve asking questions about him – you may want to talk to the people he worked with or members of his family of origin. If this need is nagging you, go ahead and ask whatever it is you need to ask.

You may even want to talk about suicide in general with people who see a lot of it – police or ambulance officers, or bereavement counsellors, for instance. People can be very kind when asked for assistance.

It’s also important to realise Sam was most probably in no state to consider the repercussions of his actions and, if he did, he is likely to have concluded that you’d all be better off without him, even though that’s far from the truth. Hopelessness is a key factor in suicide and suicidal people are often very single-minded, seeing themselves as failures with no other alternative.

The best medicine
You’ve identified what you need when you say you would give your soul just to have someone to talk to. Talking about your feelings, and really being heard, is so important as a means of processing the unthinkable pain you’ve been through. And while your need to “wear a mask” is an understandable protective measure, I hope you find some people you can open up to and from whom you will receive comfort and caring.

Some survivors report that their awful experience has given them a new appreciation of what a gift it is to live. If anything good is to come from this tragedy, cherishing your own life could be it.

Helping children
When one parent dies or their mother and father divorce, children will often harbour secret thoughts of somehow being the cause. It’s important to make it clear to your children that it was their father’s choice to leave, because he wasn’t well and didn’t know how to ask for help.

Keep Sam’s memory alive for them with warm stories about his life and how much he loved them. As you well know, people’s reluctance to talk about him can make you feel you’ve done something wrong. Perhaps you’ll be able to find a way to include Sam in important anniversaries or Christmas by lighting a candle for him or making a toast to his memory.

Being ‘alive’ for your children  yourself – that is, pursuing your own interests, being vibrant and playful, and being interested in the world – is one of the best things you can do for them.

Feeling angry
I know from our various emails that you’re fairly certain just now that you’re not likely to ever feel angry with Sam. As everyone has their own response to suicide, you could well be right, but I’d like you to at least give yourself permission to be angry if the feeling arises. Anger is as common and normal a response to suicide, or any loss for that matter, as sadness, despair, self-blame, shame and other feelings. It often arises later, after the other emotions have made their presence felt, and it can be hard to accept because it makes you feel even more guilty. However, in many cases it’s quite a healthy response because it acknowledges that you have rights too. Feeling angry doesn’t mean you’re betraying Sam: you can love your husband and at the same time be angry with him for leaving you and your children in this way. I imagine I’d be furious.

Suicidal thoughts
It’s generally accepted that people who have been bereaved by suicide are more at risk of taking their own lives than the general population. This has something to do with having become more familiar with suicide as an option, but it can also be a way of reaching out to the person who has taken their life. Suicidal thoughts also stem from the unbearable nature of being a survivor: feeling you’ve been well and truly abandoned and finding that people avoid you.

It’s wonderful you didn’t act on your own ideas of suicide, Marianne, and you knew when to seek help. I feel inspired by your strength and determination, and it’s important for the rest of us to have people like you around.

Starting a support group
This is a brilliant idea for many reasons, so all the best with it, Marianne. Obviously, in most cases, the best people to provide support are those who have firsthand experience of losing a loved one to suicide. If you need assistance in getting started, a group called Rose Education can help with materials on suicide prevention, loss and grief; call (02) 9606 6853. Your closest support group is the Noosa-based StandBy Response Service, which assists people on the Sunshine Coast, call (07) 5442 4277. Otherwise, Diana Sands, director of Sydney’s Bereaved by Suicide Group Service, would be happy to offer advice on how to set up your own group, call (02) 9419 8695.

Helpful books

• In the Wake of Suicide: Stories of the People Left Behind by Victoria Alexander (Jossey-Bass, 1998)
• After Suicide: Help for the Bereaved by Dr Sheila Clark (Michelle Anderson Publishing, 1995)
• Surviving the Pain After Suicide by Margaret Appleby (Rose Education, 1992)
• A Special Scar: The Experiences of People Bereaved by Suicide by Alison Wertheimer (Routledge, 2001)

Words: Carolyn Parfitt. Photography: Sam McAdam.