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When a Parent Tries to Take Their Own Life

My journey, hopefully explained as simple as possible

By claudia ☁️Published 4 years ago 4 min read
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I am writing this in my university bedroom, approximately two hours after coming off of FaceTime with my parents, on a normal Sunday morning. Something said at the end of my FaceTime call with my father has triggered me to write this. I think this piece will probably be saved as a draft numerous times, before I feel it is ready to share.

With this story I hope young people in the same situation as myself will be able to relate, and feel slightly more normal, knowing that other people go through the same sort of things.

Normal. It's a word I used a lot when discussing my dad's mental issues with my mum on numerous occasions. "This is normal," "we are more normal than a lot of people." To be honest, I don't think 'normal' really exists. Everyone's situation is different, similar in ways, but different overall.

I'm at the point where I can write about this story because I now know how I feel about the whole situation. At the time when my dad attempted to kill himself, I felt nothing. It was strange, surreal in fact. My dad? The head of the family, the guy that all my friends find hilarious when I tell them these weird and wonderful stories about him. No not him, surely not. Not the ex Army guy come self-made businessman. Really? Unfortunately yes, they are all the same person.

A Wednesday evening. I had just finished work at 5 PM, my cousin was giving me a lift home, and we were stopping off at the shops for me to get some supplies for my weekend away that I was leaving for the next day. A phone call from my 15 year old brother. He seems panicked, and asks if I have spoken to mum; before I could answer, the phone call cuts out. I now start to panic. My brother never calls me. I start to think the worst. My heart is racing and my palms are sweaty. My cousin tries to calm me down, but I have a gut feeling that something seriously bad has gone on. I turn up at home, everything looks normal. I walk into the open back gate and my brother is sat in the garden on a chair on his own, with the dog locked in the kitchen. I ask him whats happened. He starts to tear up and says there's been a big argument, and mum and dad have walked off together.

Then I get the phone call from my mum. She's with the police and my dad.

"Dad is going to the hospital. Everything's fine."

Fine? Why do we always want to stay that everything is okay, even when it's quite clearly not? A part of our human nature, to brush everything under the carpet, and make it all look nice, when things are far from fine. My mum explains what happened.

"Your dad went out for a dog walk to go calm down, then he came home had a shower. I was making dinner. Then he came downstairs..." I could feel the lump in her throat form. "He said goodbye to me and your brother, and before I could stop him, walked out the house with a rope and a plastic bag." My heart broke.

After the phone call with my mum, I hysterically cried. While crying I phoned my friend and told her to come round to my house without saying why or what the matter was. After about five minutes of crying I just stopped, the tears stopped flowing, and since then I haven't cried whilst talking about the situation once.

Today my dad told me that he's got his appointment tomorrow. It's been nearly two months since he had his psychiatric assessment the day it happened. This means he's moving forward. I didn't know what to think or feel that evening. However now I realise, it was a cry for help, and it ended the best possible way. It sounds morbid, but a blessing in disguise almost. My dad doesn't know whats going on his head, but hopefully now he can figure it out.

If there is one thing that I will take from this, it's that we worry, in life, about so many meaningless things. All problems are relative, however sometimes you have to take a step back and realise that the problems you are facing are so minuscule and irrelevant compared to what other people are going through. It has made me be more grateful, not only for having my family around me, but for every opportunity they have been able to give me.

Few select people who I trust immensely, know about my situation, because I don't want their views of my family to change. So when I sit with friends and hear them complain about parents, I almost want to stand up and shake them, because I don't want them to miss out like I nearly did. However like I said before, everyone's situation is relative and in most cases nothing will really change until it's too late.

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