Introduction
Simon, Cale Joseph, 16 years…at his home in Cottam.
How peaceful these words sounded; how innocuous and harmless.
Yet how these words have haunted me since they appeared in my son’s obituary. How many times I have wanted to go back and change them, re-write them, ‘truth’ them.
Cale didn’t die peacefully or innocuously. He didn’t die suddenly. His death was agonizingly long and the road tortured by high mountains and deep pits; the brightest of lights and the blackest darkness – peaks and valleys all forged of mental illness.
He found peace only after death. He chose to end what had become for him an unbearable, unlivable, unlovable life.
In the months following his death, I had only one regret. I had not chosen to tell the truth in his obituary. Telling the truth would have helped to take away the stigma of suicide and mental illness that so many people continue to face today. Telling the truth would have shown my acceptance of my son’s decision – and I did accept it, totally, with an understanding that only I, as his mother, could have.
I can’t go back, but I can commit to telling the truth from this point on. I can commit, as I did to Cale a few months prior to his death – to continuing to tell the truth and to fight for change, tolerance and acceptance, and access to proper and appropriate diagnosis and treatment for children with mental health challenges. I can commit to continuing to fight for change for children and adults – for children with mental illness grow up to become adults with mental illness. It is only in the telling the truth that we, as a society, and I, as a mother will find a way to change the overwhelming tide of people, young and old, who are completing suicide as a way of ending the pain and suffering of life. It is only in telling the truth that I, as Cale’s mother, can keep my promise to him.
And it is only in telling Cale’s story, and mine, that I can reach out to others in the hope of making a difference.
To the other families – mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, sons, daughters, grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles – who have lost a loved one to suicide, my greatest wish is that through this book you realize you are not alone, you are not crazy, you are not at fault. There is help available to you, if you choose to reach out. You will survive. Know also, that if you are open, there will be gifts. It is hard to choose to be open; to choose to believe that something good might come from your loved one’s death. But it can be, and the gifts are often amazing and life saving.
Should this book end up in the hands of teenagers and youth who struggle for acceptance, for love, for guidance, for peace – reach out for help. Find someone to talk to, anyone. If you can’t get help with the first person you turn to, try someone else – a teacher, a friend’s parents, a librarian, a coffee shop waitress, a counselor at a local agency, a police officer, a friend. Just reach out and live. Suicide is not the answer. It is not the answer for you, and it truly is not the answer for those you leave behind, who are faced with a lifetime of missing you, questioning why and wondering ‘what if.’ If you read this book you will know that suicide destroys lives – more than just the life of the person who completes the act. Suicide is like a tsunami – it hits without warning, with incredible, unforeseeable force destroying everything in its path on impact, and for years, sometimes generations to come. Survivors of suicide live forever with the consequences of that decision.
If you are a teenager or young adult, and you know someone who is struggling with suicidal thoughts, suicidal ideation, or has attempted suicide, tell someone! This is an incredibly hard secret to bear when your friend is alive; it will become even harder if your friend completes suicide. Telling someone is the kindest, most loving gesture you can make, even though it may feel like betrayal at the time. Don’t assume that the person is just looking for attention – many lives have been lost because of this assumption. So tell someone; your mom, dad, sister, brother, a friend, clergy, social worker, teacher – anyone you can think of who might be able to help.
To those who work in the field of children’s mental health, please, listen to your hearts. A child’s mental health problems are not always just behavioural! Listen to the parents as well, for they know their children best. Be open to the possibilities.
If you are reading this book and you have attempted suicide in the past, read carefully and try to truly understand what happens to those who are left behind. And reach out for help. It is available. It may not always be easy to find and ‘doing the work’ to get well may be the hardest thing you will ever do, but it is worth it. Just reach out for help.
You may have picked this book up for any other reason – the title caught your attention, the cover caught your eye or the book fell off the shelf in front of you and you therefore believe you were meant to read it. My greatest prayer for you is that after completing the book you will have a greater understanding and awareness of suicide, children’s and adult mental illness, societal stigma and the need for tolerance, understanding, compassion and assistance for both those who complete suicide and those who are left behind. Know that life is short and precious and much of it is out of our control. If this book causes you to look at your own relationships, and allows you to see them differently, to see where changes can be made and connections can be strengthened, then follow your heart. You know what to do.