In July at the Loving Outreach to Survivors of Suicide (LOSS) Young Adult meeting, I met a wonderful women named Kathleen who recently lost her sister to suicide. As Becky and I were discussing the recent launch of this blog with the rest of the group members, Kathleen asked if she could tell her story:
“My survivor story started on Saturday, May 18, 2013, when my sister succumbed to her life-long battle with bipolar disorder and suicide. I received a one-line email from my dad early Sunday morning, “CALL ME ASAP regarding your sister.” While I had received similar messages in the past, they were all false alarms to her reckless and unsuccessful attempts to end her life, but this time I somehow knew it was the real deal. When I called my dad, all I could say was, “she did it, didn’t she?” He told me that she snapped during my mom’s birthday celebration and she left the party in a rage, which was not all that unusual for her. She dropped her 4 and 7 year-old daughters off with her husband and stormed home. After a few attempts to reach out to me and two other close friends, she proceeded to hang herself in her garage, leaving a note attached to the door that read, “Do Not Enter. Call 9-1-1. Tell Kelly (her friend) I won’t be able to meet her for coffee.” After securing the girls in a separate room, her husband walked in to find her dead, on both my mother and his mother’s birthdays.
Even though it has been 12 weeks, my thoughts are still consumed with the endless list of scenarios that could have changed that night. But the truth is that my sister’s spirit died several years ago. No one could have saved her from her disease, not even herself. I am finding this to be the most difficult obstacle in my grief. No one can explain or understand my sister’s battle with the demons that poisoned her inner self, made her doubt herself, and doubt our love for her.
We grew up in the “average American family,” 2 boys and 4 girls. I was the youngest. We had a green station wagon, a swimming pool, and several dogs named Lassie. Today, my parents live in the same home that we grew up in. They have 13 grandchildren and recently celebrated their 48th wedding anniversary. Everything appeared to be “perfect,” until May 18th, when my family was forced to address the significance of our individual struggles with anxiety and depression that resulted in my sister’s inevitable death.
As my older sister by nine years, there is no denying the impact she had on my life and the lives of so many around her. Many people remember her for her strong personality and quick wit, her perfect skin, her eclectic sense of style, her undoubting and loyal friendship and her “hysterical” sense of humor. I see memories of her everywhere, and while I am struggling with my own grief, the hardest part of all of this is seeing my sister’s eyes in the sad faces of the two beautiful little girls, waiting for their mom to come home and comfort them.
While many of the survivors in the LOSS support groups have said that their experiences came out of nowhere; my sister’s suicide was unfortunately for me, the “expected unexpected.” I saw all of the signs; I fought this disease with her for years and years. Even with the unpredictable highs and lows, the hospital visits and repeated attempts to end her life; I still can’t believe that she is really gone. There are still no words to describe the sadness and overwhelming pain that my sister’s disease has caused for my family, but in the midst of our grief, our questions and our doubts, the one thing we can do is remember all of the wonderful moments we shared with her when she was truly happy, the times she fought so hard to hold on to. It is in these moments that I believe with all my heart that she is finally smiling in a place where she can be at peace with herself, a place where she does not have to fight anymore, in a place where we don’t have to watch her suffer through each and every day.
LOSS has been a huge support to me over the past few months. Although losing a parent to suicide and losing a sibling to suicide are very different, I have especially found support from Jessica, Lindsay, Becky, and Natalie, who I can relate to on so many different levels. I hope that my story can support others who have lost siblings to bipolar disorder and suicide or whose loss is the result of another known mental disorder. ”
-Kathleen, fellow survivor and participant in Loving Outreach to Survivors of Suicide support group
Beautiful, favorite sister. Xo
I stumbled across this post at the perfect time. I lost my brother three weeks ago to suicide. I still can’t breath even typing out that sentence. I have been searching for the words to explain these thoughts that have been going on in my head about my brothers death. Yes it was suicide, yes it was unexpected, but it was something i always knew was going to happen. He battled with depression and mental illness long before I was born. I read this article and it was like i was reading my thoughts right on the screen. Although my brother has never attempted suicide before, he often threatened it. When i got the call that he was dead, i knew it. I knew that he had done it, what felt like the unthinkable but then again something i’ve thought about before. No matter how many times he said he was going to do it before, no one actually thought that he would. We took all the right precautions, we went to therapy, we assured him he could always rely on us, and we loved him so much but it wasn’t enough to save him from himself. I just want to thank you for sharing your story and for reminding me that i am not alone and i am not crazy for thinking the thoughts that are going on in my head. I know my life will never be the same and now i am living in the “new normal”. Reading everyone’s stories and the comments gives me hope.
Thank you for sharing.
xoxo
I’m in South Africa, more than two years after my sister’s suicide. I can’t move pat there guilt of not helping her. Knowing her illness was greater than the collective power we have. I’m powerless to bipolar. I respect the gravity of the disease. I miss her. I cheer on those with this disease with the utmost respect and hope. I pray for their families. I am not religious. I believe in prayer