My grandad took his own life at 72. It’s been almost 10 years since and the constant reminder of loss is everywhere – whether it’s on TV shows, documentaries or in the news. Ultimately, it is unavoidable to be confronted by the fact that someone you love decided to do something you yourself cannot quite understand.
Two weeks after my grandad, a family friend – just 18 – did the same. He lived in the same six-mile radius. A year later, a school friend did the same, as did my cousin’s husband – they had a young son together. Since then, I cannot count the number of people my friends and other family members have also lost.
My grandad had a loving wife, two daughters, and eight grandchildren who, despite his hardy exterior, loved him dearly. Though I wasn’t aware of it (he wasn’t the type of person to have deep conversations with), he had suffered for a long time with depression, and his feelings were probably not helped by my grandma’s unavoidable ‘deal with it’ attitude.
This ‘tought it out’ attitude has not only been ingrained in her generation but is part of who she is as a bubbly, generous, life-loving human being, who just couldn’t fathom how or why anyone would feel that way. But unfortunately, he did. And there are two things that made this experience even more painful.
Firstly, that everything had been meticulously taken care of: from the bills, to his will, to getting my grandma to call the police when she got home.
He had thought long and hard enough about it that he had planned it all and never thought there was the option to keep on living.
Secondly, the following day, when I arrived home, my brother said he understood how my grandad felt – hinting at something which I already knew deep down.
Back then, I couldn’t understand any of it, if you are not at all in that headspace you can never quite comprehend why someone might feel they way they do. It was only in a short spell of my own anxiety and sadness a couple of years ago, that I started to understand how someone might get so low.
Over the years, I have attempted to make up for the loss of my grandad in one way or another – and there will be people who have lost someone in the same way who will understand what I mean.
I have volunteered, I have listened, I have implemented work mental health initiatives all in an effort to make a difference, to make sure people knew I was there to help. But, in recent years something changed.
I began to feel as if my attempts to make a difference were futile. I felt helpless and hopeless, dragged down by the idea that sometimes you just can’t save someone – and that in itself is a depressing thought.
Seeing it on the TV, happening to celebrities, to loved ones of family and friends, I came to accept that in some way it was normal rather than the horrendous crisis it really is.
The death of Ricky Hatton – who was open about his mental illness battles – and the death of writer Baek Se-hee, author of best-selling book ‘I Want To Die But I Want To Eat Tteokbokki’, makes it feel like no matter how far we’ve come in acknowledging that mental health is a serious issue sometimes there’s nothing you can do to save them, something I got wrapped up in.
In the recent years I think I gave up hope that anything would make a difference. But I know deep down this is something we cannot do.
As our Royal Editor Emily Ferguson shared today – there’s always some hope. If those who are dealing with suicidal thoughts can feel it, then those who wish to help can hold on to that too.
Inspired by William’s emotional conversation with Rhian Mannings about her husband’s death on World Mental Health Day, Emily bravely shared today the story of her own mental health crisis and her battle to get better.
Mental health can affect anyone, and everyone, from all walks of life. People in the depths of their depression or despair may not always be able to speak about their struggles, but those of us who can be there to help and listen should make sure we do so as much as we can.
We must never give up hope that we can make a difference, whether it’s big or small. There may be someone who needs us and they just don’t know how to tell us. But all we can do is try.
Information and support can be found at the Hub of Hope, the UK’s largest mental health support directory hubofhope.co.uk Text SHOUT to 85258; or call the Samaritans free at any time on 116 123. Lines are open 24 hours a day. You can also email jo@samaritans.org
