Reflections on Grief, Suicide and Intervention
People bereaved by the sudden death of a loved one or family member are
65% more likely to attempt
suicide if the deceased died
by suicide than if they died by
natural causes *UCL
I found this to be true. . .
What would the world do without me? I thought I would see. . . My life would go on only in
memory. I’d had enough – and so I thought – BUT God had plans of intervention!
I remember standing at the desk that day, I knew if the
doctor could not help me, I would not make it. And yet
I had felt that way before, for two years since the fatal
attempt of my son’s life. But this time was – different!
Later on that day, the warm summer evening was with
beauty all around, but I knew I would never again look
upon. It was as if a compelling force took hold of my
mind. Grabbing the bottle of pills, I drove to the store
(for some reason I knew I would need a bottle of wine
to secure this intention) even though I had never
purchased a bottle or tasted of it before. I then drove
up the road past homes of friends, feeling alone, but
it would only be for a time.
As the sun began to set, I parked the car, praying for
release from my heavy burdens. Then on my last night
on earth, taking one more look at the shadows lingering
upon the hills, I twisted the cork, tipping the bottle, then
taking the pills, I fell asleep – death to me would be a
Suddenly I awoke, as I was placed on a stretcher – people
all around trying to keep me alive. I was angry! Why God,
was I not taken from this world? Did you have something
more in mind? Did I try to stop my clock for you to rewind?
As I came to my senses the sound of the ambulance was
rushing to the hospital. A 72 hour hold (by law when an
attempt is made) was placed upon me, which in my case
I have been placed among many people who are very ill
struggling with challenges we all had in common, some
more intense than others. I did not quite understand their
tight hold on life. Laying awake at night to the sound of
moans and screams, of nurses rushing in to control those
restrained to their beds. With my stay, the space of time
emptied into remoteness, days lost their existence, I was
forced to face my anger and resentments.
The door closes behind me. I am released back into the
world of obstacles. Feeling the warm sun on my skin,
breathing fresh air, hearing the sounds of cars as they
speed by. The sound of an airplane, the whistle of the
train, people moving back and forth. Will I succeed in
facing the world with medications and sedation? I have
reservations as I leave this place. The world had gone on
without me, not knowing or caring why I had suddenly
left for a time. No one understands the apprehension I
feel. Will family and friends reject me, will they lose
credibility in me, will the stigma of this attempt
follow me? Would there be resources available for
those who survive their attempts of self harm, for
family and friends left behind?