Wishing She Was Still Here, One Year On

I lost a friend to suicide more than a year ago. I still remember the date: December 3, 2023.

When you’re in your mid-30s, still within the first half of an average person’s lifespan, the death of a peer hits hard. At this age, I should be reuniting with friends at weddings, not wakes. By this time, I already had a few peers who had passed away too soon, due to accidents and unexpected health issues.

But when my friend Crystal* died by suicide, I felt a grief that I had never felt before. I let out a part-wail-part-scream that I had never heard before. I also grieved over the death of a child — Crystal’s infant son that she took with her — like never before.

When I learnt of the unbelievable news, all at once, I had to come to terms with uncomfortable truths:

• I wanted to deny it all but I realised this death was real; Crystal’s “last seen” timing on WhatsApp tallied with when she passed away.
• I wanted her to recover but I realised this death was permanent; no cure or medical treatment could bring her back.
• I wanted to hold someone responsible, but — her death was caused by her. She was the one who had ended her life — something that makes suicide different from other sudden deaths.

This is my grief story, but it’s not meant to be all about me. Instead, I hope it will offer some handles for other people who have lost loved ones to suicide, or what we call, “survivors of suicide”. I believe Crystal would be supportive of this effort as she was often generous in helping others.

Crystal passed away on a Sunday morning. I was among the first few colleagues who learnt of the news on Monday, when I was working from home. Over the next few days, more colleagues knew and eventually the whole company knew through a heartfelt email.

The company engaged an organisation to provide counselling for those who wanted it. In one group counselling session that I attended, I realised that though the attendees were all her colleagues — and thus, in the same “category” among her friends — we had very different grief experiences.

• Some were very sad, while others were angry that she took her son with her.
• Some blamed themselves, some blamed her husband, some blamed God.
• Some cried a lot; one person chose to cry everything out on a single day then stop crying thereafter.

Her family, understandably, kept the funeral wake a very private affair. As for her friends, I think most of us found it difficult to find closure without attending a wake and seeing her for the last time.

In grieving together, people may compare grief experiences — we could be inspired and want to learn from others, or we may, out of good intentions, encourage someone to be “less affected” but end up doing so with insensitive words.

For me, I knew her close friends were hurting, that hurting people could hurt others, and that I needed help or some form of outlet — through people who had experience in helping suicide survivors yet were not grieving over the same friend whom I lost.

That’s why I sought help from the professionals — at Samaritans of Singapore (SOS).

Someone asked me a few months ago how I knew that I needed counselling help.

If losing loved ones is hard, losing them suddenly is harder, and losing them suddenly to suicide is even harder.

So I knew suicide grief was different, and I figured that dealing with it would need to be done differently.

If, for example, I became severely ill, I would not depend on Google search results, self-medication or home remedies recommended by family and friends. Instead, I would see a doctor, a healthcare professional.

So, similarly when I was faced with suicide grief, I decided to seek professional help from SOS.

If I may give a gentle reminder to survivors of suicide, be patient and understanding of the counsellors too.

A doctor gives a diagnosis based on how a patient answers his questions, such as questions about the symptoms and when they start appearing. If the answers are vague, it is more difficult to give a diagnosis.

Similarly, I think the effectiveness of counselling is partly dependent on a client’s willingness to share, including the sharing of feedback.

I am thankful for my counsellor’s regular assurances that I did not have to share or answer her questions if I felt uncomfortable to do so. If anything, her assurances made me feel even more comfortable.

The grief journey will almost certainly have bumps, detours, and possibly even plunges. But the journey need not end on a low note. Achieving some state of normalcy, where grief and joy co-exist, is possible.

Don’t lose hope even if people disappoint you

Don’t give up on the well-meaning loved ones who unintentionally offended you, or when your experience with getting professional help isn’t smooth-sailing.

I didn’t have key takeaways from every support group session at SOS. And at my individual counselling sessions, occasionally, there were small misunderstandings.

For example, before one of my first few sessions, my counsellor sent me two academic journal articles to read. I took a cursory glance and wasn’t keen to read them, but I tried anyway and still found them uninteresting. I didn’t hold it against the counsellor; I figured that she sent the articles because of her perception of my preferences, since my previous job involved a lot of writing.

I gave feedback that I was okay with books and blog articles but not academic research articles; she accepted the feedback and stopped sending me such articles. We’ve still built a good rapport over the past year and laugh about that incident now in hindsight.

Don’t lose hope even if the intensity of the grief returns long after the suicide

For me, I had been making progress in my grief journey and I learnt, about six months after the suicide, that my “traumatic grief reaction score” improved. But two months later, something unexpected happened and it tore the emotional wound wide open.

Details of the circumstances in the weeks before the suicide resurfaced. Reading about details which I already knew was tough because they showed up suddenly “in my face”. Reading about details which I didn’t already know, details of Crystal’s pain and mental anguish — that was more difficult and led to even more questions.

I had learnt from support groups and counselling sessions that grief is often not a linear journey — there could be periods when suicide survivors feel fine and periods when they go back to having strong emotions — so I wasn’t too discouraged when I found myself feeling very sad again.

I took the initiative and asked to meet my counsellor, to process my thoughts and feelings about what had happened. It was our longest counselling session, and it helped me manage my grief.

Don’t lose hope even if all your whys are not yet answered. Consider asking “Now what?”

“Ask your whys — every last one of them — until you are hoarse,” suggests Harold Ivan Smith in his book A Long-Shadowed Grief. “Your persistence in voicing why will eventually benefit you, and possibly others.”

After Crystal ended her life, the question of why she did so weighed heavily on my mind, as she had no known history of mental health issues.

My counsellor asked me what would give me closure, and I committed to having a conversation with a mutual friend whom Crystal and I had, a conversation that I felt would help address one of the whys I had. My counsellor’s question helped remind me that closure was possible and let me define it and take ownership of it.

I eventually got one “why” question answered, but I still don’t know for certain why Crystal ended her life and at best, I can only make an informed guess. I have accepted that this will be as far as I can go, that I will simply not have all the answers in this life because no one will ever know the full picture of what went on in her mind.

Author Victor Parachin says there is nothing wrong with asking why, as it is a normal response to life’s unexplainable events. But he counters that the better question is “Now what?”

• Committing to emotional healing, so you can continue loving your family and friends who’re still alive
• Getting involved in suicide prevention and being a support to other suicide survivors
• Living life to the fullest — your loved one whom you lost to suicide probably wants that for you too

I can’t change the fact that Crystal died by suicide, but what I can change is what happens in the future.

How I long for something good to come out of all that’s happened, and my faith has helped me be determined to discover that good. I refuse to let the suicide death be the final word about Crystal. To use an analogy from nature: when a single grain of wheat dies, it can still sprout and produce a plentiful harvest of new lives, and I’m hoping for life to come out of death.

If you’ve lost someone to suicide, don’t give up on yourself even if you made mistakes or find yourself making slow progress in your grief journey. Don’t give up on your support community who made mistakes or said insensitive words. Don’t lose hope.

*Names have been changed for privacy.

Healing Within is a 6-week online structured support group that provides a safe space to share, learn, and find comfort in community. Together, we wish to journey with suicide loss survivors through their grief and discover new ways to heal.

The support group is held in English and is only open to suicide loss survivors (losing someone to suicide). Participants must attend all 6 sessions as the content across sessions is linked. All registrants will need to go through intake sessions to be assessed for suitability by our caseworkers. To respect the others in the support group, participants have to be in a quiet and private environment when attending each session.

Have you or know someone who lost someone to suicide?