After the Storm

After The Storm Survival After Suicide

January 10, 1988. This day is forever etched in my memory. This is the day that my baby sister took her own life at the tender age of 18. The knock on the door came at 1:30am. I opened the door to find a policeman standing there, a strained look on his face, telling me that Daddy wanted me to come over right away. I knew the news wasn't good. The next few hours passed in a blur of tears, confusion, and utter hopelessness. Somehow, my family and I ended up at my aunt's home. Relatives came and went, but my parents and I clung to each other, knowing that no one else felt the depth of our pain. Two incidences stand out in my memory. The first one came when we went to the mortuary to view the body. "View the body". That is such a cold term. To this day, I shudder when I hear it. "The body" is the remains of someone's loved one, someone's dreams. Mom, Dad, and I had been dreading this from the beginning, yet somehow, after that first dreadful shock upon viewing her cold, lifeless form, a sense of peace came upon me just by being near her. We stayed for hours, knowing that it was the last time we could ever be with her physical presence. The second memory I have of this time is when my mother and I actually were touched by my sister's angel. We knew that at the time of her death, Bon Jovi had been playing on the casette tape. The song that was playing was "Never Say Goodbye". As I said before, we were all at my aunt's house, and Mom and I felt the need to be alone. We got in the car and drove the two miles to her house. On our return to my aunt's, Mom had just made the comment that she would feel so much better if she had some kind of sign that JJ was alright. Just then, as we were pulling into the driveway, Mom reached down and turned on the radio. There was no radio announcer, just the first strains of "Never Say Goodbye". After the song was over, I asked Mom what had made her turn on the radio. She said that you always have the radio on in the car. I pointed out to her that we were at our destination. A sense of peace came over us, and we knew then that JJ was ok. Looking back, those were the easy days. All the days that have followed have been the hard ones. The days after the blessed numbness fades. The first year after her death, it seems every day I found something else that I had lost when she died. The fact that I suddenly didn't know whether or not I was an "only child". I wasn't raised as one, yet now I have no siblings. The fact that I will never have any "blood related" nieces or nephews to spoil. Never being able to go to the mall with her again, never go to see another movie, never call her up spur of the moment to share whatever gossip had sprung up. I was angry with JJ for a long time, not only for taking her own life, but for taking away a part of me, of my dreams. When the anger finally faded, and I began to see her for what she really was, a hopeless, confused kid who just needed something that no one who knew her was prepared to give. To this day, I blame myself, not for being unable to stop her, but for being ignorant on the signs of suicide, for being one of those people who truly believed that "it can't happen to me". I also believed I was going to lose my parents over this ordeal. Mom & Dad were devastated, and talked of joining her for a long time. Through counceling and prozac, I now believe they have also weathered the storm. Another thing that bothers me tremendously about her death is the stigma that is attached. I had my sister for 18 years. Memories were made, yet by reliving those memories, the room suddenly becomes deathly quiet. If I mention a memory concerning any other relative who has died, there is sure to be somebody who can expand on that memory. Yet because JJ died by her own hand, it seems as if people are afraid that I will give somebody "ideas". This myth has got to stop. Talking about suicide is not going to make it happen. Maybe if we had talked about it earlier, my sister would be alive today.

The warning signs of suicide:

Abrupt changes in personality

Giving away possessions

Previous suicide attempt

Ending of a romance

Inability to tolerate frustration

Use of drugs and/or alcohol

Eating disturbances, significant weight changes

Sleeping disturbances

Withdrawl

Unwillingness or inability to communicate

Sexual promiscuity

Depression

Extreme or extended boredom

Inability to concentrate

Accident prone (carelessness)

Unusually long grief reaction

Unusual sadness, discouragement, and lonliness

Hostile behavior

Neglect of academic work

Family disruptions - divorce, trauma, losing loved one

Running away from home or truancy from school

Rebelliousness - reckless behavior

Withdrawl from activities that they love

Talk of suicide

So how has my sister's death altered my life? I have become more aware of life. I give a hug to someone who looks like they need one. I talk openly about suicide to students at schools. I listen. I tell my family I love them everyday. I got my teaching degree so I could work with kids, to be there if they need a shoulder to cry on or a kind ear. I try to be a better person. These may or may not make a difference, but I'm doing what I can.

You can visit the page I made for YOC here

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