Please tell us the ages of the people involved at the time of the suicide.

Hello I am a Cambridge resident. 35 Male

As a suicide survior, I live with a lot of guilt that I put my family through. I was 16 years old and in my 12th grade. Life was very tough at home living with a alcoholic father, a working mom who tries to keep the family together, a brother who I relied on as a support all my life left for college. I was very lonely and felt like I am a big burden for the family. On top of it, I knew I was gay. I had no one to talk to about my sexuality or orientation. Its not an option living in India and be gay. I decided to take my life with sleeping pills, but I surivied because my mom found me at the right time and I was in coma for a week.

Looking back I feel I was very stupid to do such thing and feel guilty about putting my family thru the emotional roller coaster and financial burden.

No one ever talked to me as of why I tried this till date. I am 35 and now I live in US.

At that time it may sound like an easy way out, but its hard for someone who tries and very hard for those who love them dearly. At the end, no one wins

A childhood friend of my husband returned home and I got to know him well. Later, he began to fall into old habits, alcohol, drugs, and we began to see less of him. A few months later he took his own life, and I am devastated to think that we could have done something to prevent it. Apparently he had a history of attempts that we never knew about. Are there signs to be aware of, or steps we could have taken?
Many thanks.

My middle sister commited suicide 2 years ago this coming November. From the outside she appeared to have a wonderful life. She owned her own catering business, had a husband who adored her and she had fought and won a brief encounter with breast cancer. That is why when she died it came as such a shock to all of us.

It seemed shocking to most of us that one evening she took two bottles of pills, drank a fifth of vodka and shot herself in the head. She left no note, no explaination or any clues to why.

It wasn’t until after the autopsy and the convergence of friends that information started to filter its way down to her family.

Her business was successful, it was the light of her life. But her husband had cheated on her during and after her rounds of chemo because she had gained weight during her treatment which she had not made an effort to lose and because of that he found her totally unattractive and told her so.

She was desperately lonely for family. She had gone through her entire treatment for cancer alone. Her alcoholic biological mother had seperated her from the rest of us on the paternal side of her family at a very young age and continued telling her the rest of her life that we didn’t want her and would never accept her.

All of that seemed very sad parts of her life but managable because she was 46 when she died so she had managed it for quite a long time. So while all those things were tragic it didn’t seem like a recipe for suicide.

The last clue came months later when the results of the autopsy came back, she was suffering from stage four metastatic breast cancer that had invaded into her lymphatic system.

We are now left to wonder, if we had all known about this reoccurance of the breast cancer could we have changed the outcome? Could the family that was pried from her fingers by her narsicistic mother so long ago open their arms to her and been the support system that she so desperately needed? Especially since she could expect more of the same behavior from her husband? Or was it just too late all the way around for her? And was the way she ultimately went out of this world inevitable?

Although I knew her very little, I cried when she went out of this world, because up until then I always believed that there was a chance of reconciliation for all of us sisters.

But ultimately, I cried because she didn’t know that when she took her life that there was a group of people who were going to miss her and she died thinking that she was really alone in the world, when she wasn’t.

I was truly appalled this morning to hear guest host Jane Clayson’s inept handing of a listener who called in to share her personal story. The caller began by saying that her mother had committed suicide when she was a child and went on to begin to describe that she herself had attempted suicide. The caller was cut off for a station break without any real acknowledgement of what she was in the midst of talking about. She was about to describe her own experience, her husband’s experience of her suicide, from a unique viewpoint.

While the caller may not have been as perfectly “on point” as Ms Clayson might have preferred, she should have been treated with far more respect. She put something out into the public discourse which is intensely personal, rarely shared outside therapy sessions; it was a gift, and it was dropped, literally. Neither Ms Clayson nor her guests returned to the caller’s story, and my heart ached for the caller.

I have at times been a volunteer for a suicide hotline, and I am training to be a mental health professional. Part of my job is to evaluate patients for suicidality, for the thoughts, feelings, circumstances leading up to their desperate thoughts and acts. I have listened to countless stories of people who are desperate simply to have someone listen to them without judgment, the very listening which your guests were recommending for the listeners to practice if confronted with family members who have survived the suicide of a loved one. The irony that you denied that caller the very act which you were urging others to perform was stunning.

Speaking out, reaching out for help, sharing one’s pain, is one of the bravest and most difficult acts a suicidal person can perform. Here, on the radio, was the opportunity to recognize this caller’s bravery, and instead she was left unheard, as is the experience of countless others who routinely try to speak of their despair and anguish to those close to them who refuse to listen or refuse to hear. I wish it were possible to reach the caller, to let her know that she did not speak in vain, that some were listening. The program took on a very difficult upsetting topic, and the two guests were excellent, but in the pressure to stay “on message,” the guest host shirked from her responsibility to acknowledge the limits of what she was comfortable discussing…

I’m sorry for this negativity, but tough topics deserve the most open minded and open hearted audiences possible… I’ve come to expect very high standards from WBUR, and today I was disappointed.

I too felt that the callers were treated with curtness.

I was one of the callers, and my feelings are that since I shared from my heart what one experiences when going through such a terrible tradgedy, a polite thank you would have been appropriate.

To be briskly cut off after relating my personal feelings left me somewhat unsettled.

Carol, we thank you and all other callers who were so courageous in calling up and sharing their stories on air. I apologize if some of you were interrupted but I do thank you for your feedback because this is how we can constantly re-evaluate and improve our shows.

I listened to the entire program and wanted to call, but knew I might break down. Even after 7 years of losing our only son to suicide at age 30, it is still a heartreaking subject. I too, went through all the stages of grief, counseling, group sessions with the local Foundation for Suicide Prevention and walks on its behalf. Even left with a journal and an explanation (a break-up with his girlfriend), left us with many unexplained answers. He was intelligent and very creative and had depression. My journal entries over the past seven years have dealt with how all of us, family and friends, might have prevented the gunshot that ended his life. It is something we live with every day and the heartbreak will never end.
Suicide is a subject that should be recognized and discussed as much as possible. I also hate the term “committed suicide”. It implies a crime which in itself carries a stigma. We need to remember the person – not the actual deed.

The point made in the show that suicide defines someone touched on some of the most important conclusions I have come to about suicide.

First, not only does suicide define the person committing it, but it also defines the surviving family.

But, you have a choice not to let suicide define you or them. And I wish I could make that point to people, to urge them not to let the suicide of a loved one define either them or their loved one. That’s not really who you are, and it wasn’t who they were.

I have realized that most people cannot grasp suicide, so there’s no point in bringing it up. There are very few situations or people where discussing it will help you or them, so be judicious about brining up the death, if possible. Tell a white lie if need be about the cause of death.

Choose not to let yourself or those you love be defined by the suicide.

After listening to the show in it’s entirety, I wish to render an apology to On Point.
I stated above that I thought the callers were treated with curtness. I was wrong.
My emotions were racing when I heard Joan’s experience, and I have never called in to a talk show before. I was in my car, and my call was taken quickly, and it seemed as if I was cut off.

No, I’m so sorry. Each person was treated with empathy, me included.

I think that it’s just……we can never be finished.

Thank you for giving our damaged hearts voice.

Carol, our hearts go out to you. Please take care. And thank you very much for your comments.

Wen Stephenson
Senior Producer, On Point

I just wanted to say how moved I am by the bravery and candor of everyone who called in today or shared their story on this site.

Joan Wickersham

First I would like to thank Joan Wickersham for writing.
As I was listening, I found myself smiling because I could relate to so much of what she read aloud, and that is a first. I am anxious to read her memoir to “feel
at home” with the experience. My husband made the choice to end his life just about 12 years ago (in
August) and we were talking about it just today, as we
often do. My daughters were 13 and 15 at the time and
the road to healing is complicated and ongoing. It is
never, never over. As rational human beings I’m not sure we can ever understand the mindset of a suicide victim. That’s why I think we have to be very careful with the phrase “suicide prevention” I truly believe the best we can hope for is to treat the illnesses which can lead to suicide.
I am a steady listener to NPR and especially On Point.
Some of you have commented about the moderator of this
program. Jane Clayson’s style is not Tom’s style. I
don’t think she’s abrupt so much as she doesn’t always
relate to what the callers have said. She doesn’t tie
it all in like he does. All I would ask is that when
you program a subject as serious as this one, you
schedule it so that Tom can moderate it. Thank you.

I was 24 in 1970 when my mother (a holocaust survivor) took her life. Two days later, shopping for deli to offer those who would be stopping by, I met a woman who knew my mother. My father’s admonition, “Don’t tell anyone how she died!” was ringing in my ears when I encountered an old friend. Sympathetic upon hearing the news, Mrs.W wanted to know the cause of death. “I’d rather not talk about that” I said. “Yes, yes, I understand,” she said, “… it was the heart?” “Really, Mrs. W, I’d rather not…” “Of course not, sweetie…. it was the liver?” As Mrs. W went through all the major organs she gave me, in the midst of grief and confusion, an enduring gift. Thirty eight years later, I still laugh at the memory.

When my mother committed suicide 8 years ago, I searched and searched for a book or anything to connect with my experience. I can’t wait to read this book.

My mother had Hodgkins and just finished chemo treatments when she died so everyone thought it was the cancer that killed her. I was there and saw the depth of the depression she was in. I tried everything I knew at the time to help her.

I recently lost my son to suicide…he was a returning Iraqi vet with PTSD..the pain never goes away.. I want to thank Joan for her book …seems like I have read until I can’t read anymore trying to understand…but I realize I will never understand the whys…I now know I can’t define my son’s life by the one desperate act….he was a beautiful young man…with so much to give…I am thankful that he was my son for the 26 years in this world…and now I must move forward with my life with him close to my heart…

I’m not sure “uncomfortability” is a real word. If so, it’s an uncomfortable word.

Ms. Clayson, please use “discomfort” instead.

I want to commend Ms. Wickersham for the courage and intelligence with which she has written about the suicide of her father. Her words have already given me some measure of solace as I continue to grieve the death of my brother Joe.
Joe took his life in February at the age of 46 after spending most of his adult years strugging with clinical depression, anxiety and insomnia, as well as efforts to self-medicate with drugs and alcohol. Despite his long history of problems, Joe never once suggested to anyone — not even his psychiatrist or closest friend — that he had ever thought about suicide. Yet he had considered it his secret option, his hidden ace up the sleeve, for many years, as a journal he had left behind confirmed to us.
Ms. Wickersham really hit it on the head when she said she viewed her father’s suicide as a mystery. It’s been that way for my family and myself as we sift through the facts of Joe’s final days and hours to figure out what, finally, sent him over the line. The note he left in the squalid motel room where his body was found told us much and filled in many details, but the final question will always haunt us: Why?
I look forward to reading Ms. Wickersham’s book in its entirety.

Mike