The Effect My Father’s Suicide Had

Let me start by saying this: I lost my father to suicide in 2014. We hadn’t spoken in just over a year when he took his life. I realise now that this may have been partly because of the mental illness he tried hiding from everyone.

It was the weekend before I was due to start university in Nottingham. I was excited and nervous all at once. I was getting ready for work, a part time job I had in a local bar, when my aunt called.

“I don’t really know how to tell you this,” her words were hesitant and slow. “But I’ve just seen on Facebook that your dad has died.” At first I thought it was a joke. People post stupid things on Facebook all the time.

I tried ringing him, his phone rang, and rang before going to voicemail.

I tried again.

I rang my aunt back and asked her what happened. She told me that everyone was saying it was suicide.

I began to sob.

We hadn’t spoken in over a year, but our argument really hadn’t been that important. I had thought about reaching out so many times. I had gotten so close that the text was left half written in the box on my phone.

Guilt rolled over me like a wave. Would he have done this if I had sent that text? Could I have stopped him?

My father didn’t live close by. I had to travel a few hours to go to his funeral. So many people attended that the tiny room in the crematorium was packed. I didn’t realise he had so many friends.

I guess he probably didn’t realise that either, maybe if he did then this would have turned out differently. I wonder if those friends felt the same guilt that I did? Or maybe they felt the same anger that my Mom did.

My mom kept saying how selfish he was. How he took the easy way out. I didn’t think that though, I was just sad that he wouldn’t have a future. That his life had ended.

His brothers and sister were there, they told me of the notes they received from him in the days after his death. I didn’t receive one. I guess I didn’t deserve one, or I wasn’t important enough, or maybe he just didn’t have anything to say to me.

I have lots of feelings about his death. Lots of things I wish I could tell him, I think he might’ve had lots of advice to give over the years.

I didn’t end up going to university, well I tried for a few but couldn’t manage the party atmosphere. I was too sad.

I’m not angry with him because almost four years on I’ve been there myself. I know how hard it is to carry on when it feels like the world is about to end. I understand.

What should you take away from this?

Remember that people all feel very differently about death. Some people are sad, others are angry, and some will feel sick with guilt.

If you feel suicidal then talk to people, it doesn’t matter if you’ve had an argument, most people will think your life is more important than any argument you could have had. You also probably have more friends than you realise.

Another important thing to keep in mind is that your actions affect everyone. Your death might be the easiest thing for you, but it definitely will not be easy for the people who love you. You could change their lives by taking yours.