I was just about 20 years old when my Dad committed suicide. Even now, 4 years later it is hard for me to say that he did. I find that it is a bit of a taboo subject, no one wants to know that you have had someone in your family take their own life. I am not sure what it is, maybe it is that a lot of people think that if someone in your family has committed suicide that it makes you susceptible too. I don't really know. It does make it hard though, very hard.
I was already an "unstable" person before my Dad died. I had been depressed for years, but the reasons behind that are another story. My Dad was an overbearing man. He believed that if he was doing something then everyone else should too. If you relaxed at all he would make you feel guilty for not working. All he had to do was look at you to make you feel this way. But in his own way he was a good man. He never hurt my Mum or me. The only time that he ever smacked me was when I deserved it and I think that I have grown up a more responsible person for it.
There was another side to him though. He was a drug addict. Both he and my Mum were involved in the drug scene, but my Dad to a larger extent. He was jailed for heroin dealing when I was 4 years old and spent the next 18 months in prison. I didn't really understand at the time. It hasn't been until recently that I found out exactly why he was in prison. I guess that I just always assumed that it was a marijuana charge. Mum and Dad always smoked marijuana, I just thought that it was normal. I guess that it has made me a more open-minded person, although I have never been interested in doing it myself.
My Dad got very sick with a disease called Brucelosis, it is a disease that humans contract from animals. One of the side effects of the disease is that it causes depression. This was compounded by the fact that he contracted it though the pigs in our family owned piggery. The pigs had to be tested to find out if they had the disease, if they did they would all have to be destroyed. Our business would not have survived, it was tough enough just to pay the bills as it was. In the end it turned out that the pigs didn't have it, that Dad must have contracted it elsewhere. But the uncertainty of his job prospects and the side effects of the disease caused him to sink into depression. Although neither Mum nor I realised it at the time, but looking back I can see that the signs where there.
One night after Mum got home from work, Dad took the car and said that he was going to see his brother to talk about the some financial things. He didn't come home that night. In the morning I called around to all of his friends, all the people that he might have gone to see. One of them told me that he had been there and that he was on his way to see another friend of ours that lives about 4 hours away. But when I called him, Dad wasn't there. At 4 pm that afternoon a police car pulled into our yard. My step-grandmother was with them. They told us that Dad was dead, that he had taken his own life. They were very good, but it was a shock to say the least.
I was totally numb. I couldn't cry, I didn't really know what to do. The job of calling his mother fell onto my shoulders. I still shudder at how I told her. I was in such a state of shock that I didn't really know what to say and I just blurted it out. It haunts me. I know that if I hadn't been in such a state that I could have done a much better job. I don't think that what had happened really sank in for a few days. It wasn't until I saw one of my friends that it all hit me and I just let myself go. I cried so much. It all hurt so much. My friends were very good with me for a time. But as time goes on, they move on too.
The question of why is still a huge one for me. Dad didn't leave a note, but we did find out later that he had been taking money from one of the business accounts to buy Speed. I know that my uncle found out that there was money missing and Dad just didn't know how to cope with that on top of everything else. But to actually do what he did, well, it makes me so angry.
I think that there is a process that people are supposed to go through when somebody commits suicide. Mine has been coming in slowly over the past 4 years. I know that I still have a lot of stuff that I need to get through though. First came the shock, then the loss, the pain and hurt and now the anger. That is about how far I have got. I don't think that I have made it to the acceptance stage yet.
My Dad's suicide screwed me up even further than I already was. I sank deeper into depression, further that I had already been. I had always used food as a comfort and I ended up putting on a lot of weight, I went up 2 dress sizes in the first year. I have started to lose it again, but it is taking a bit of work to get it back off. My depression continued and I wallowed in loss and pain for a long time. But at the same time I pushed those thoughts out of the way. Somehow I thought that if I didn't think about it, it would all go away. It didn't and it hasn't. My friends moved on quickly, more so that I could, although I guess that it obvious. It was so very hard for me. I really needed to talk, but there wasn't anyone that I could talk to. The only time that they listened to me was when we were drunk. So I started drinking quite a lot every time that I was with them. But as they have gradually moved away from here, my alcohol consumption has dropped again. I can go for weeks now without drinking.
I haven't been able to concentrate on anything for long periods of time. I have numerous long-term projects that I have started, but I never seem to be able to finish anything. It can be very frustrating. But I have finally realised that I can't do it all on my own. I have sought help, in the form of counselling and drug therapy. I know that the answers still have to come from within me, but having these outlets available to me has helped me so very much. There are still times when I miss him and I am still very angry with him for leaving us in the way that he did. I know that I will never know the true reason behind what he did. I think that is the hardest thing to come to terms with. Not knowing is the worst and there are times that I hate him for what he did.
But what it all comes down to in the end is that he left us here to deal with all the pain and suffering on our own. It has been extremely rough on the whole family. Both of his parents have aged considerably in the past 4 years, his brother and sister are still devastated by what happened. The blame floated around for a long time. I guess that we were all trying to blame someone for what happened, someone other than him. But in the end he made the decision and we all have to live with it.
By Krista June 1999
Last updated 29th June 1999