Have you ever felt that tinge of guilt when someone tells you they’ve recently lost a loved one to something other than suicide? This has happened to me a few times this year, usually in response to hearing about a loved one’s hard-fought battle with cancer or even the passing of an elderly grandparent. Before my dad died, I only experienced my grandparents dying from old age. I’ve now started to experience “suicide guilt” when talking to people because I think their loved one stayed strong and did everything they could to survive what they were battling – from enduring painful surgeries and chemo treatments to fighting the slow path of Alzheimer’s. But, there’s this idea that my dad “gave up.”
Last week, I received the terrible news that a friend lost her brother to cancer. I thought to send her a link to this blog to see some of the posts about navigating the grief journey, coping and moving along in a state of “new normal.” But, after I hit “send,” I thought, “why would she want to read a blog written by someone whose dad chose to die?” I didn’t say that to her and she didn’t say anything of the sort to me, but I still felt it. Then, I had to take a step back. I remind myself that even though it doesn’t immediately “seem” like it, those contemplating suicide are living with just as much pain inside as some others might be fighting on the outside. I want to believe that our loved ones’ first inclination wasn’t to actually die, give up or leave us behind, but instead it was the lesser of two evils. Lindsay wrote about this when she shared that her dad didn’t want to die, he wanted to end his pain. I believe our loved ones tried to fight before arriving at this decision – whether reaching out to a mental health professional for counseling, or trying anti-depressants, talking with family or exploring other forms of help. While mental wellness and suicide are slowly being discussed more openly, people just don’t spend as much time talking about them as they do these other diseases or causes of death. Maybe that’s what contributes to survivor guilt. It’s unfortunate.
We’ve talked a lot in our LOSS groups about comparing grief and how it can be so counter-productive. Whether comparing the manner of death or the closeness of the relationship to the person or our varying levels of grief. Not everyone does this, but it can happen. What does it really accomplish to send yourself down this road? No matter the cause, it hurts terribly to lose someone – whether to cancer or a heart attack or suicide. And, the cycle of grief is similar for everyone, with an ongoing roller coaster of feelings and emotions. Looking back, I guess I don’t need to feel so bad about having sent these posts to my friend or for sharing my dad’s cause of death with anyone who tells me they’ve recently lost a loved one.
What we can do is be there for those around us who are experiencing any form of grief and offer our support, just as we liked to have. That’s what I have tried to do in these situations and I have come to learn that I end up feeling more similar to these friends and co-workers than not.
Steph Bao says
Thanks, I needed to read this. I just lost my beloved husband and dad to my child to depression a few months ago. I’m beginning in a spousal loss support group this evening, but have been feeling that guilt all day. The guilt that tonight when I have to tell my story, no one there will be there for me because my husband “chose” to die. I hope this isn’t the case but I already feel like if all of their spouses fought to cling to life, they may perceive my story differently and not accept me.
I’m going in with my head held high. I know my husband fought to live with his anxiety and depression every day, and stayed as long as he could. He tried many things, but the meds made him feel foggy and barely there, he didn’t feel his therapists helped, he had to quit his job (very difficult on the male breadwinner to have to “fail” even though it wasn’t that way at all) and he developed persistent panic attacks, night sweats, and insomnia… This went on for a while and that day his pain and anguish was beyond his ability to cope. He went through a lot. Mental illness is as real as any physical illness (and has many physical manifestations!) and I’m going to do my best to advocate for that tonight and throughout my life. And maybe the group will go better than I think! How we lose them shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t make me hang my head or feel bad that my husband “gave up”… Man this guilt stuff is so intense. It is the worst emotion of all the stages of grief…
Becky says
Steph, I am so sorry for your loss. I completely understand what you’re feeling. Maybe there’s a specific suicide loss group in your area that might make you feel more comfortable? Though, I’m hoping this group was welcoming to you. The truth is, while our loved ones technically made this choice, they were battling a disease that is equally as debilitating as any physical disease. This is part of the stigma we need to overcome. Let us know how it goes.
Denise says
I hope my words bring enlightenment and comfort.
There is not a more misunderstood malady than that of mental illness. And in the substrata of this disease, the most misunderstood is what I term suicide illness. Suicide illness is what happens when depression grows up and decides to bulk up on anabolic steroids. Suicide illness demolishes a person from the inside out — victims feel ‘dead before death’, so the removal of the shell becomes nothing more than a technicality. Victims of suicide illness do not “commit” their death any more than victims of cancer commit their death. I deplore terms like suicidal and suicidal ideation — we never describe someone as being canceridal or having diabetes ideation….
Sadly our culture shies away from providing the care and openness needed to combat suicide illness. We retreat in fear or in sheer desperation, level guilt. We plead with God in the quiet dread of night, and we speak in hushed tones amongst ourselves. The triggers for suicide illness are as individual as a thumbprint or snowflake. While one child may endure a savage childhood relatively intact, another may die from an acute suicide illness flare up over a bad test score or grade. Without expert intervention and care, the body hangs around even after the soul has fully expired.
Sufferers often self medicate with alcohol and drugs, or have their condition worsened by well intentioned prescribed medications that turn out wrong. Barbaric as this sounds, THERE ARE CURRENTLY NO TESTS THAT DETERMINE IF A PSYCHOTROPIC DRUG WILL WORK. The soft term used in the medical field (including psychiatry) is “trial and error” — sadly with mental illness there is often zero wiggle room — sufferers need immediate relief and lasting change in conjunction with immediate change and lasting relief. The current medical model goes like this: a patient visits a psychiatrist, or a general practitioner who shockingly is allowed to prescribe psychotropic drugs, and is told to “come back in six weeks”. That is akin to handing a tourniquet to a hemorrhaging amputee and telling he or she to “apply this and check back in six weeks”. If the patient wins the medication lottery, they will experience relief relatively quickly. If bone luck is not on their side, they may stay the same….or die from exacerbation of their disease. The wrong drug can worsen an already critical condition. There are no ‘crash carts’ for mental illness, no snapping to medical attention as with physical illness. There is only “trial and error” with the “error” part often synonymous with death.
Death from suicide illness is not the ultimate tantrum or a display of cowardice or revenge. It is the end stage result of an unmanaged or incorrectly treated terminal disease which is an equal opportunity killer. Being adored or famous or wealthy or educated does not provide immunity.
A person in the midst of a Suicide Illness flareup is under the spell of a homicidal hypnotist that has taken up residence in his or her brain.