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Our Helpline Volunteer, Kate shares a call she received from a mother who was struggling with the grief of losing her son.
All the names have been changed to protect the client's confidentiality. Please be aware that the below story contains details of suicide, which some people may find upsetting. The details have also been changed to protect the client's confidentiality.
"You have reached the Cruse Scotland Helpline, my name is Kate." I pause briefly before I explain our confidentiality policy. There is then a silence, and I let that be.
"My son died three years ago." As soon as she speaks, her tears come.
"When will I be free of this grief?"
I hear such a lot of pain in her voice.
"I wonder if you can tell me what happened to your son?" My voice is soft and gentle, I want her to feel safe in this space with me.
"He killed himself. Hung himself in the woods at the back of his house. He had tried to kill himself before. Oh God, I should have done more. I should have helped him. I can’t live with this guilt anymore."
"I hear how hard this is for you. Who is with you just now?"
"My husband John. He told me to call you. He took me to the doctor this morning. I know he’s worried about me. He gave me your number."
"I’m so glad he did. I’m so glad you found the courage to call. To reach out for help can be the hardest thing to do."
As we talk, she has stopped crying, but I have in my mind the words she told me, "I can’t live with this guilt any longer." I need to ask the hardest question.
"You told me, when we first started talking, that you felt you couldn’t go on with this guilt any more. I am wondering do you intend killing yourself?"
This question feels harsh to me, but I know it must be asked. If she has the intent to kill herself, I have a duty of care to ensure that I do all that I can to help her when she is feeling like this. It feels more than a duty.
"No, I wouldn’t kill myself. I just say that as I’m so desperate, I wouldn’t do that to John. He’s had enough but my life seems over, I can only just function."
"I’m going to explain to you how Cruse Scotland works, how we can help and support you."
I describe the different types of support we use to help clients with their grief. I get all of her contact details, and she tells me what happened to her son. I listen. His life, his struggle, his death and all the consequences of his death.
I am still feeling concerned for her safety and welfare, and I ask if I may speak to her husband. She is willing to let me do this and brings him to the phone.
"Hello John, my name is Kate, and I have been talking to Mary about the death of your son and how difficult this has been for her to deal with. When talking to me she has said that she felt she could not go on and I am wondering if you believe that Mary may take her own life?"
"No Kate, she wouldn’t, but she’s had no life since he did it. She blames herself, which isn’t right. She did everything she could to help him. Got him doctors and counsellors, slept at his house for days to care for him. She did everything she could but she’s heartbroken. He broke her heart."
I can hear John’s anger.
"I can hear how much pain she is in John, thank you for talking to me. I just wanted to make sure she was safe and would not harm herself. Thank you. Can I speak to Mary again?"
"Hi Mary, thank you for letting me speak to John. I am going to add you to our system now. Remember if you need any more support or help before we get to work with you individually, just call back to the Helpline. We are here for you."
She thanks me once again, and I close the call. We have talked for 45 minutes together. Suicide can feel the heaviest of loads to bare.
I think on a quote by Edwin Shneidman; "the person who commits suicide puts his psychological skeletons in the survivor’s emotional chest."
Mary sounds like she is barely surviving. The love she has for her son and the pain of his death, all stuck in her "emotional chest" suffocating her life.
I’m glad she called.