At the age of two, my mother and father divorced leaving my mother a single parent of three beautiful children. My mother never kept my sister, brother or me away from my father. We were allowed to visit him on weekends and part of the summer once he moved out of town. The relationship that my father and I had was a typical one. I was a daddy’s girl and he could do no wrong in my eyes. This bond grew even stronger when my father moved back to Ohio from St. Louis, because we were able to see him more often. My father was a charismatic, loving, and not to mention, a charming individual who was fun to be around. He was a “functioning drug addict” in that he was able to maintain management positions in every job he chose. The last job prior to his death was as the President of the Corrections officers union at the Trumbull Correctional Institution, where he seemed to be happy during this period.

On the Monday prior to his death, I went to visit him. He seemed in high spirits and was extremely proud of the fact that he just bought himself a new car. He then made a statement that would stick with me for the rest of my life “now I can go home whenever I want.” At the time I figured he meant that he was able to go back to St. Louis anytime because he now had a reliable car. To this day I continue to be puzzled by the true meaning of this statement because his death came two days after my visit with my father. On that following Wednesday, I was called down to the office at school and told that I needed to get my little sister and go home. At that time I was at a complete loss until we arrived home and my mother and brother walked through the door. Soon after, the words “JaTice is dead” echoed through the kitchen and as my brained raced to grasp what had been said, my brother and sister began to cry. I did not know what to think! It was not until the next statement came out, that shocked me even more, “he killed himself!” That is when my tears came, I was numb and confused.

My initial response was atypical, in that I asked my mother to allow me to go back to school because I had an important volleyball game that night to play in. Due to the fact that she was also in shock, she allowed me to return to school, needless to say my coach sent me back home. Those actions defined how I dealt with the suicide of my father; on that day I began using the defense mechanisms of blocking, denial, and avoidance in order to cope. At the age of sixteen I lost my father to, what I considered at the time, a selfish, senseless act. He committed suicide by sitting in his new car in the garage and that is where he died of carbon monoxide poisoning. Does this make sense? Did I miss something just a few days earlier when I saw him? I was unaware of the long lasting impact that his depression and suicide would have on my life for years to come. I later realized that I was suffering from depression myself. I began to make foolish decisions and was not living up to my full potential;l opting to stay in bed for days at a time. I believe that I ran away from the situation and became cold on the inside, but at the same time I established a façade as being a jovial care-free person who was tormented on the inside. None of my friends or family knew what was going on with me nor did I choose to discuss it with anyone until recently.

Now I am able to talk about it and tell my story as a true survivor, not ashamed to speak up when I hear people talking about suicide. People often have their own opinions and perceptions about suicide; the types of people who commit it and where those people are going because they did it. Just know that those are “personal” opinions and everyone is entitled to one.

In the recent years, what I have found that aided me the most was just talking to others about suicide and how they coped with it. If I could render any advice it would be to talk about it, get it out, do not hold it in and, if needed, get professional help. Please use all the tools that are available on this web site to help you deal with grief and the loss as a survivor of suicide. It is a long and hard road and it is not meant to be dealt with alone.

Thank you for your time.

Sincerely,
JaRae Shaw