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On July 2, 2012 in the early pre-dawn hours my 40 year old son took his life by hanging, in the storage shed behind our house. My daughter who was visiting found him at 8:00 a.m. I never would have believed he would have taken his life, leaving  23 and 8 year old sons behind. Terry had lived with me for the past 17 years, since the death of his first wife. For 35 years he was with me; now part of me is missing and I don't know what to do to put myself back together again. He had a lot of sadness and heartbreak in his 40 years but appeared strong minded and stable as far as I could tell, I keep asking myself why I didn’t see some signs or symptoms of how bad he was feeling. He was the youngest of my 4 children, always playing practical jokes on other family members, telling jokes and funny stories, an avid reader, writer of poetry and personal letters. I will carry forever in my heart his last words to me, "Goodnight I love you" was that his way of telling me goodbye? So many questions but no answers. I am so lost.

Code 076
Posted 18 July 2012


My daughter had just turned 21 when she took her own life. She had a fiancé that she had been with for 4 years; they had recently bought a house and then in February she found out she was pregnant. It turned out she had a miscarriage and found out while that was going on that her fiancé was being unfaithful, so in February, I moved her back home with me. I knew she was in pain over her horrible ordeal but did not realize the depth of her depression. She had seemed like she had moved on; she started going out with co workers and had even started dating again.

She turned 21 on March 22nd and we had a nice celebration with her. On the day of April 20th she stopped by my workplace and we had lunch. She had just gotten her oil change and went to run more errands. I got home around 6:30 and we hung out and talked for a bit. She looked sad and I asked her about it and she said she was just tired and was gonna go upstairs a lie down. That was the last time I talked to her.  At 10:00pm I went upstairs to tell her goodnight and I found her in her bed with a clear plastic bag over her head and a tube that ran from under the bag attatched to a helium tank on the side of her bed. I ripped off the bag and called 911 and started CPR, but it was too late; she was already gone.

She left 3 notes: one for me, her sister and the one that broke her heart. She also made a video saying her goodbyes on her cell phone. The police said that she had been contemplating it for at least a month; they found entries in her journal on March 1st, and they found the receipt for the helium tank that she had purchased one week prior.

I miss her terribly and just wish I had known that she was in such a dark place. I would have traded places with her. I still feel like I'm in shock. She was a good girl, pretty, talented, funny, and never was into any trouble. I'm just not sure how to move on from here.

Code 075
Posted 24 June 2012


Hi, My name is Jill and I'm a survivor of my son’s suicide. He was 16-years-old; his name was Rory and he died on July 20, 2009. Rory shot himself in his bedroom early in the morning around 1-2am. I never woke up and my bedroom is next to his.

I found him at 9am. He was going to help his grandfather in the cellar to clean. My dad called me to wake him because Rory told him to. I went into his room he was sitting up against his dresser. He had a cork board on the floor next to him; he had been working on a puzzle which he often did when he couldn't sleep. There was blood all over the board. I asked him why he didn't wake me; he usually did when he had a bloody nose. He didn't answer me. I looked at his face. It didn't look right; it was gone. I rubbed his arm and followed it down; it was so cold. When I got to the end of his arm, I noticed the gun, the one I let him have because he was taking up hunting. He had all the training with my brother and even went out with my brother for turkeys. Suddenly, I realized what had happened I started screaming, “No Rory! Why? Oh my God! No Rory! He's died; my Rory has died!”

I looked at the gun was about to pick it up and end my own pain when I heard a little voice: “Oh my God mommy, what are you saying? Has Rory died? I'm coming in!” It was my sweet 6-year-old. How could I forget about her? I kept her from coming in. I had to leave the room. I called 911.

The police found from his Facebook account that he hadn't slept in 4 days. Rory had a sleeping problem. He was being treated but meds didn't help. I had no idea that he was going to do this; he was happy, talking about the future and wanted to give me grandchildren. We had been to a family reunion the day before. He talked how much fun he had had and how he was on the grounds committee to set up and take down the tents. He was so happy.

The police told me that because of his lack of sleep he wasn't in his right mind, not thinking straight. They said it was like being intoxicated. It didn't matter to me why; it never helped me deal with it, having a reason.

Rory and I were very close; we talked about almost everything. He often came into my room to wake me when he couldn't sleep, when he had a bloody nose. I'll never know why on this day he decided not to ask me for help. He had been talking on Facebook with his friends on what he planned to do and no one believed him. No one called me either.

If I can help stop one child from committing suicide, I will feel that Rory's death wasn't for nothing. I'm moving on. I have to, because I have a sweet little one that needs me. It has been very hard to say the least. I have P.T.S. and needed much counselling. Luckily I found a wonderful woman, Ann, who did her homework and went to trainings to learn how to help me. I also have a great church and family who were always there for me.

Code 074
Posted 6 February 2011                                                                                                    


Today is Sunday, October 17, 2010. Three weeks ago, my stepdaughter Lindsay left her boyfriend's house with his .22 gauge target rifle, went into a wooded area about 300 feet behind the house, and made a call to her best friend saying she was "going to see Nate" (her friend's brother who had died a few years earlier from a heroin overdose). Her friend became concerned and called Lindsay's dad, my husband from whom I am getting divorced and not living with.

She never returned home. Her body was found the next day by State Troopers combing the area. She had killed herself with the target rifle. I found out from a friend who had watched the local news; she called me screaming "have you heard? Oh my God, it's Lindsay!" I had not heard. I called Lindsay's father immediately. He wanted me to come over. I did. I had not had any contact with him for a year. I was frightened but my desire to help and comfort him any way I could was more important. I saw a man in abject grief, rolling on the floor, screaming, asking me to kill him, to end his pain. The problems he and I had as a married couple were so insigificant and meaningless by comparison. But I could do nothing except keep him company, hold him, listen.

Since the time I met Lindsay in 2003, she had been plagued by drug abuse and Bipolar illness which was diagnosed when she was in her late teens. She had been institutionalized for periods of time, but was attending regular group counseling sessions and taking medication. Her father thought she was doing pretty well.

When I went over to his house that night - the night the State Troopers came to his door earlier to say they found her body, the night I heard my friend's voice message on my answering machine - I walked back into a house and a life that I had been estranged from - and Jack said, "we knew it would end ths way, didn't we Kathy?"

And we did. The signs of violence were there, even when we both chose to ignore them. Yesterday I discovered that Lindsay had a MySpace page and on it were photos of her wearing a gas mask and pointing a large revolver at whoever was taking the picture. There were about 20 similar photos, dated May 15, 2009. Lindsay had been practicing with guns for over a year. Her father and I were too caught up in our own marital problems at the time to notice.

I feel so ashamed. I feel like such a bad, negligent mom. And I feel my husband's pain and want to make it go away. But a child's suicide is a life-altering event. We will never be the same.

I have a son Nicholas, 24, from my first marriage. I call Nick every day now to ask how his day was and to tell him that I love him and to be careful. I can never, truly understand or feel what a parent who has lost their own child feels. But I thank God every day for keeping my son safe and for sparing me such grief. I pray that Lindsay is safe now from those demons that plagued her all these years. I told her dad that she got tired of trying to outrun them and is at peace now. I have to believe that. We all do. For our own sanity and for our other children and loved ones.

I feel guilty now for not letting her live with us after her father and I were first married in 2007. But she was so disruptive and I wanted to give our marriage a chance. She prevailed in the end and moved in after I had moved out. I'm sure Jack thought that at least Lindsay would know she had a home. That was a year ago.

Last spring Jack emailed me that "Lindsay was really doing well" and I thought, good; if it takes the dissolution of our marriage to make your daughter whole, then I am willing to go through with this divorce and move on with my life. It turns out that she was not doing so well. And as close as we think we are to our kids, we often don't "see" the truth. We probably don't want to.

I talk to her at night now. I want her to know how sorry I am for not being a great stepmom or a good partner to her Dad. Even in the face of a child plagued by the demons of Bipolar illness and substance abuse, to say that "I tried" seems like a lame excuse. I could have tried harder, done more for her, spent more time with her, been more patient and understanding. Like the way I treat my own son.

My faith helps me believe that Lindsay is now at peace and in the arms of the Angels. I pray that her father also finds some peace within himself and can stop blaming himself for this loss. And I pray the same for myself and for those of you who carry the burden of responsibility.

God Bless us all. And watch over our children.


Code 073
Posted 20 October 2010


3 weeks ago my 19 year old son took his own life. I am absolutely devastated and do not know where to turn or what to do. He had been troubled for a long time, his biological father committed suicide not long after my Son was born and during his later teens, this affected him more and more.  He would start using suicide as a threat every time we had an argument and in the end, I became numb to it. When he was 16 he went to live with my Aunt after he went mad one night, we had to call 999 and get him arrested.  I decided that I could not have him in the house when he was a danger to our family.  We kept in contact and continued to help him, we bought him a moped but he smashed it up in his temper, we gave him money, we tried to find him a job but he just wasn't interested.   In the last few months before my son died, he had gone worse, depressed, taking drugs ecstasy, cannabis and 'm-cat'. We took him to A and E on several occasions with suicide attempts and threats but they just turned him away each time leaving us feeling so helpless.  The only help they were offering was voluntary counselling which he was not interested in.  I was frightened of my own son and scared that one day he would hurt me, his step-father or sister.   I soon began to wish he would just carry out his threats and kill himself because he was destroying us, especially me.  Little did I know that he would actually do it and that my life would be blown apart.

As I said, my son hung himself just over 3 weeks ago and I also feel I have died inside, I don't know how life will ever be the same again, I feel so guilty for wishing him dead, he died thinking I didn't like him and I can never put that right.  The night before he died, I had a dream that he had come and asked me for help, he was with someone I had never seen before, someone very tall with short curly blonde hair.  I can't remember what he said but he asked for help and I turned him away.  A few hours later he was dead.  Why didn't I help him in my dream, then he may still be alive and why did I have that dream? I never had one before that night like that. 

I am torturing myself with all these what if's but I can't help it.  I have shut everyone out, I don't want to see anyone or talk to anyone.  Taking my daughter to school is a nightmare, I just put my head down and say nothing because I don't want anyone asking me how I am.  I don't trust anyone to tell them things because I think they will just use it as gossip.  I actually heard 2 women gossiping about it in the supermarket the day after my Son's funeral.  I did tell them what I thought of them afterwards.

I could write forever about what happened in my son's life prior to this and what I am feeling.  I go through so many different emotions every hour and feel so out of control.  I have to carry on for the sake of our Daughter, she is only six and I don't want her affected by this later in life with memories of her Mum falling apart but it is so hard.

My copy of Jan's book arrived today so I am going to read it and see if there is a light at the end of this very dark tunnel.  If anyone can contact me with some kind words or even just to let me know that this is not the end of my life, please feel free.

Code 072
Posted 24 June 2010


On Nov. 4, 2007 my beautiful 15 yr old daughter, Becki  put a load of clothes in the washer, and went outside with her cell phone, like she did every night after supper.  But this time she never came back in.. when I realized she was not in her room, I thought she must have gone for a walk in the woods, to cool off.  She had quarreled with her boyfriend.

by 10:00  I was getting 11:00  I was mad.  by midnight I was worried, and had been  looking for her along the roads.   I checked her boyfriends house, but it was all dark.  I went home and called the sheriff, and woke her dad.   He drove through the trails i n the woods behind the house, but it was dark, and he couldn't see any sign of her.  At first light he tried the trails again, and he found her hanging in the woods behind the house.  

Nobody should ever see their child hanging in a tree...It does things to your head that can't be undone...She didn't leave a note.  We've been left to  wonder....I'm her mother.  She was my best could she have been so sad, and I not have known?

Code 071
Posted 14 May 2010


Please let me extended my sincerest condolences to everyone who has experience this  trauma.  I too have had the unfortunate, heart wrenching, and life changing experience due to my son’s death by hanging in 2006. Only those who have experienced such a tragedy can fully understand the depth and breadth of the pain associated with perceived impulsive acts. 

My guy, had plans to go play pool with a friend.  I called him to ask if he wanted to join us for dinner and he told me he was going to play pool with a friend.  He called me about forty minutes later and said “I love you dad”  He was crying and I told him I would be right home.  I tried to call him seven times on the thirty minute drive home. 

I found my son hanging in my garage.  I took him down and performed CPR.  They flew him from Peterborough to any hospital in Toronto that would take him.  He died two days later in St. Michael’s Hospital in Toronto in the very same bed that we had just watched his grandmother take her last breath three weeks earlier. 

It turns out that he was unable to get his girlfriend on her cell.  He left four messages of which three were inappropriate and progressively threatening and the fourth was crying and farewell.  He left a note in the house that was scribbled on the back of an envelope that said ”I love you guys.  I am sorry, Love Adam Lee William Bailey” 

It has been four years since this happened and I truly thought that the pain would be far less than it is by now.  Only those who have been here can identify fully with what I write.  I am progressing.  I am active.  I exercise, journal, work hard and talk about my son.  I also give presentations in hopes that I can help others.  Regardless of these activities the pain is still really deep.  I guess I need to learn that I will continue to heal slower than I thought and that the intense pain will always be something that I have to learn to live with. 

I am cheering everyone on and letting you know that I empathize with you.  My guy was found to have cocaine in his system when he made this impulsive decision.  He was not without challenges, but had a great attitude about resolving challenges.  He knew the strategies and had support.  He was young, sensitive, energetic and caring.  He maintained a level of fitness that was exemplary.  He had made a few errors along the journey I call life and had support as he was almost through most of those stressors. 

I will never understand why and know I will never understand why.  Only those who have experienced this will ever understand this part.  My family hurts because of his decision.  We face the problem of people not wanting to talk about my son, yet I want him to be remembered.  He was a great young boy.  Please don’t read this as a perfect young boy because he had his share of adolescent problems, but he was a sensitive helpful young man.  Alas, I will miss him forever.  I will grieve and I know the pain will be intense for a long time.  I just need to live my new normal the best I am able.  God bless everyone who has had a similar experience.  I know your pain.  I loved and still love my guy.  I hope I haven’t provided too much information, but I wanted to let everyone know that I am able to relate.

Code 070
Posted 22 April 2010

Ally, UK

Hello, my name is Ally and I lost my only child & son Grant, on 10/08/2008, aged 24.He was my best friend, my soul-mate, and a wonderful son. Both my husband & I miss him so much, and all I can describe the feeling as being, is a pit which we cannot get out of. It is empty and a void we cannot fill, and never will be able to.

Grant wasn't perfect, as most of us are not, but he had the most wicked sense of humour. He made me cry a lot, but he made me laugh so much more.

Grant had mental health issues due alcohol, but also due to prescription drugs. He injured his hand(self inflicted) and as such was in constant pain.

Although he had left home 3 years earlier, we spoke every day and saw each other almost every day. We always finished our conversation with " I love you"

The day after my 47th birthday, which I spent with Grant, he came to our house, clearly in distress, and was desperately looking for help. We both went to the Chesterfield Royal Hospital specialist mental Health unit, and Grant asked to be voluntarily sectioned. Unfortunately, the receptionist we spoke to, went away, and came back suggesteing that we went to A&E as that would probably be the way forward. At no time did any mental health Doctor come to assess Grant, and we were then discharged after 4 hours, despite the fact that he had been in A&E on numerous occasions, and indeed been in Intensive Care on one occasion.

The following day I took him to his GP and he saw a locum doctor. Grant expressed his wish to kill himself, and the doctors reply was " how would you do it "! No referral to the crisis team or a more senior GP.

3 weeks later, my son hung himself from a doorhandle.

I went back to work after 2 weeks, as 2 years previously, when diagnosed with breast cancer, this really helped me thro a difficult situation. Unfortunately I now know that I did not allow myself enough time to grieve.

I am so grateful to have found Jan's book, and although difficult at times, (almost writting about Grant?) this is so compelling.

We have to move forward eventually for the love of our beautiful, beautiful son, and I hope that with this website, we may.

Code 068
Posted 1 December 2009

Marie 50, Northern Ireland

Hello my name is Marie. My story began 8 years ago in 2000 when my beautiful son David did that dreadful thing called suicide. He’s had a run in with his dad and brother the day before over a car of all things.

He was 22 years old and he had some problems, E’s being one of them. He thought he needed this because of his shyness. I spoke to doctor and got someone from the drug squad to come to my home to speak to him. He tried, he really did. I sent him away to Wales to be with his brother and away from his old crowd of friends. Wow, he came back great feeling good and I had my son back. He then met a girl and fell in love. After a while of going out with her, the girl told me how much she loved my son, so I told her not to hurt him as he was vulnerable. She knew about the E’s and I explained to her that my son had depression and felt suicidal and to please go slowly as I had just got my boy that I knew back.

Two months later, she was two-timing him and did it in his face. He cried hard to me. We were very close. I tried to keep him strong and she kept trying to get him back. On the 8th October 2000, he had the run in with his dad and brother. On 9th October 2000, he hung himself in an old shed up the lane from where we lived.  I am sure you all know the devastation that comes. The police were very good; they are the people that found him.

I have left out bits and pieces of my story. That was a morning I will never forget. I was in the kitchen making a cup of tea thinking I will have this and watch the Trisha Show .David came downstairs.

I asked him what he had up his jumper and he said it was rubbish he wanted rid of and he went out the back door. The sign was there; I knew something was wrong, I felt it. He came back in and went back upstairs. I don’t know what made me go and call him about 15 minutes later. I got no answer. I went upstairs. He was not there. I looked everywhere. I felt scared and so I phoned a friend in the police. I told her what I was fearing. She told me to put the kettle on and that they would be there soon. It was lashing down with rain. I went up and down the lane, passing the shed and calling his name. Then Susan, the police friend, arrived with another police officer.  Susan got me to make tea while the policeman went looking everywhere. A while later, Susan got a call on her phone. I knew it was about David.

She looked at me she said she would be back shortly as she had to speak to the policeman. I sat there. I knew, but I sat praying - not even praying - I was talking to God, “Please make this be ok.” 
There were no tears, just fear. I must have sat there an hour until I had to know where they went, so I went looking. I found them at the old shed. 

People think because it happened 8 years ago that I have got over it and that I should be. Well yes, after 4 years of living in limbo I have learnt how to cope. I had to, like everyone else. Have I got over it? No, a mother nor a father can ever get over this. I must have written 2 thousand letters to my son about how I was feeling, like my anger, the pain of missing him and the guilt. It did help to a degree, but then I wanted to talk to a mother that had gone through a loss like I had. No one else would do and it did help. We all reach out for help, or we would go insane. I miss my son so very much. It will always feel like yesterday and I have lived on for my four other children now and grandchildren.

I always read and keep my son’s picture in Romans Chapter 8, verse 27 to 31. I am not a good Christian woman. I wish I was and I don’t know why we go through what we do. I hope in some way my letter can help someone out there, or maybe you all can help me because I still need the help and always will. GOD BLESS YOU ALL. Please feel free to email me.

Code 067

Carol, UK

I lost my son aged 17 only three months ago Nov 2008 he hung himself in his bedroom. I found him and feel tortured by the flashbacks. I feel so alone, no one around me seems to be able to relate to my pain. I feel I am living life in a bubble just not relating to the outside world anymore. Nothing seems important anymore. I would like to speak with others who are survivors please get in touch.

Code 066

Jeff, Idaho, US

On November 23rd 2008, I received a phone call from my wife that I will never forget. I was out of town and just leaving Seattle heading back to Idaho when my wife called and told me to pull the car over. She then told me our son Ryan had taken his life. He was 17. It seems like my life also ended that day. Well, here it is February 09 and I can't seem to put my life back together. I miss him so much!! Do you think they would still do this if they knew how much it hurts the ones left behind? I would appreciate anyone’s feedback on how best to deal with this loss. I am at the point where I don't want to want to go on.

Code 065

Denise, Phoenix, Arizona, US

I would like to talk to others in my area that have lost a child to suicide.  My son died.  I am lonely sad depressed outraged guilty alone feel my live has forever been changed.  I am in a lot of pain especially during the holidays.  I have other kids.  I almost feel like giving her away to a better person can't be a good parent after suicide.  I don't know that I ever was.  I hate the way he died I ache all over seems like time stopped that day.  I hate when people tell me I have to grow - grow what? My child died.  I feel bad; that is not self pity, it is sadness.  I just don't get it, but this is now my life so I will live with it, not a choice I made, not a mistake, it just is.  Does anyone else feel cheated and this way because I am tired of people telling how I feel when they don't get it; it just makes me sadder.  It is not that I am mad - I am so very sad just don't know what to do with all this pain.  Can’t go back or forward - time has stood still for me.  I just keep being told that we have a choice to recover. God am I sick of that. It wasn't my choice, I didn't do anything, but sure I will carry this burden of pain I wouldn't wish on anyone to the grave.  What is peace? I don't know. Where is God? I don't know and I am sick of people telling me how I should feel.  I miss my child. I feel so much pain. I ache everywhere. I hate the way he died and I hate that he was in so much pain and alone and I couldn't help him.  Can't anyone understand that? I am sad and I will be for a very long time. Now I just have to live with this pain and I hate it.

Code 064

Samantha,  Milwaukee, WI, US      

I'm Samantha and my friend Vicki committed suicide by locking herself in a hotel room and taking an overdose on 2 bottles of pills. The maid found her dead in the morning. Her family, nor mine would tell me what was in the bottles. They didn't even know if they should tell me right away what happened because I have been suicidal myself. I found out a day later. I couldn't believe it. I knew she had a mental illness, but she never spoke of suicide before. I did go to her funeral. She seemed so peaceful lying there. I talked to and hugged her mother and sister, then I went back to my mom and collapsed in her arms. A few days later Vicki's sister asked me to go to lunch with her. She wanted to see if
she could understand what Vicki was thinking and what she was going through when she made the decision to die. She asked me because I have the same kind of mental illness as Vicki had. I tried to talk to her about what you go through when you have a mental illness and how sometimes you just can't take it anymore. I don't know if I helped her understand, but I hope so.

I miss Vicki so much. It was just her birthday on October 4. I always miss her on her birthday and on July 20, the day she died. I'm sure those are the days you all miss the ones you loved too.

I have no one to talk with about this. Neither her family or mine ever talk about it. I never talked to her sister about it again. I know this probably doesn't sound right, but sometimes I wish it was me instead of her. She had so much to live for. I wish I could have talked to her before she did this.

I really need to talk to people who will understand.

Code 063
Posted 8 October 2008

Hilary, London, UK

May 5th 2008 my 13 year old daughter had a slight argument with her two older sisters. She came into the room where I was working on the computer, flopped onto the sofa and said "Those two are so annoying". I did not even look at her. It was, I thought, just the usual bickering amongst siblings. She jumped up and stormed off upstairs, she didn't shut her bedroom door, she looped a dressing gown cord over the corner of her wardrobe and hanged herself. She died in hospital May 7th 2008.

There were moments during those hours at the hospital when felt as though we were in a bad film, speaking corny lines. I now realise we were in shock, it was a ghastly nightmare that would end eventually. Of course there is no end. After reading other people's accounts of losing a loved one, I can see that this pain and sadness is with us forever. The coroner gave a verdict of misadventure, an impulsive action of a child.

The guilt I feel is constant. My child's death has caused me to review my whole life, all the bad choices, decisions and unfortunate circumstances. I do feel it would have been better if I had not been born so that my children and family would not have had this tortuous experience. I feel ashamed that I feel sorry for myself, of the childish "I don't want to play anymore", attitude I have to life, My two remaining daughters are amazing, they are getting on with their lives and are coping with the loss of their little sister. Although they argued, they loved each other and spent hours dressing up, singing, dancing and making each other laugh. I have been told that young people deal with bereavement differently from adults and parents in particular, because they have the hope of their lives ahead of them. Which explains why, at 49,years and divorced, I am taking anti-depressants and sleeping tablets daily. Life is something other people enjoy. I can still see and hear beautiful things, but I can't apprecite them. I know I have to go on for my children, but given the choice I would sleep forever. People say it gets better, how can it ?
Code 062
Posted 13 September 2008

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"We all of us need assistance. Those who sustain others themselves want to be sustained."

Maurice Hulst
This area offers you the opportunity to link up with other parents, grandparents and siblings who have lost a child, grandchild or sibling to suicide.

If you would like to post your details inviting others in a similar situation to contact you, please e-mail me at jandersen8888 at  If you wish to remain anonymous, you may do so. I will allocate each request with a code number. Anyone who is interested in contacting someone listed on this page may do so directly if their email address is beneath their post or, alternatively, you can e-mail with the code number of the person you wish to contact and I will put you in touch. This is, of course, a totally free service.
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