I was 11 years old when my father shot himself. It is a day that will live in my memory. A crisp summer day. High 60s.
Daddy used a shotgun. He did the act in his brother’s garage. My aunt found the body.
That was the year I became who I would be. My life was heading one way, but after that day, life went another route.
It was as though someone had dumped a bucket of black paint over me. Everything was altered. Colors looked different. The way I talk changed. Sleep patterns changed. I developed an eating disorder.
You don’t undergo the suicide of a loved one then go home and cut the grass.
Likewise, you don’t ever forget the way the sheriff’s deputy came to your house, sat you down, and said, “We had to use dental records to identify your daddy, son, because…” The officer cleared his throat. “Well, we couldn’t tell it was your daddy.”
I am not looking for sympathy. I am not looking for help. I’ve had decades of therapy and lots of help. I’m not looking for anything. Except this:
I write columns for newspapers. They run in the East. The run in the West. And for some reason, people read these columns. Which only shows you how far America’s standards have fallen.
But if you’re reading this, I’d like you to think about something. Today, as you go about your routine; as you feed your kids; as you walk the dog and pick up their doggy excrement in little plastic bags; as you brew your coffee; as you browse Facebook, think about this:
In the last 20 years, suicides rose 36 percent. Ask any cop, paramedic, fire-medic, nurse, or therapist. It’s an epidemic worse than diabetes. Worse than obesity. Worse than the epidemic of pop-country music.
Last year, suicide was responsible for about 50,000 U.S. deaths. About one death every 11 minutes in America is a suicide.
The amount of people who think about or attempt suicide is higher.
Last year, 12.3 million Americans thought about suicide. A staggering 3.5 million planned a suicide. That’s a population six times the size of Nebraska. Imagine six Nebraskas, compiled together. That’s how many people thought about it.
Suicide is the third leading cause of death for 15- to 24-year-old Americans. Twenty-two American veterans commit suicide each day. About 800,000 suicides occur worldwide each year.
And yet here’s the thing. Nobody talks about it. Not until a celebrity dies this way. Then everyone makes a post on social media, and everyone sends their sympathy. And then we forget about it.
Which I understand. In fact, you’re probably not even reading these words right now. I don’t blame you.
But the stats don’t lie. Statistically speaking, you know someone, RIGHT NOW, who is thinking of ending their own life.
Right now, there is someone reading these words who has planned such an event.
It’s important to note, I am nobody from Nowhere, USA. I am not an expert. I have bad teeth, a big nose, and I have not emptied the dishwasher in 21 years of marriage. But if I have any platform at all, I want to say this:
I don’t know what the answer is. I don’t know how to make your life better. I don’t know anything. But I know there are a lot of people out there who love you. I am one of them.
And if you take your life, you will take ours too. So please, PLEASE….
Don’t do it.
5 comments
Jenn - March 18, 2024 11:00 am
I read every word because a friend’s son experienced a break-up and I was in the room when he called, wailing and saying he didn’t want to live. She flew to be with him, spent hundreds of dollars on a hotel to be near him, and rearranged her work schedule for a week to be available for him. All that was inconvenient. But he is alive. Keep writing about this, Sean.
Dianne Parker - March 18, 2024 11:17 am
Good morning, Sean. Tomorrow (19th) of March, 1990, my oldest son hung himself in his closet. His dad found him. After reading volumes of literature, going to hear speakers … joining groups (Survivor’s of Suicide was one) … I learned. There’s no way we can know what’s in a person’s heart or head. I knew my son was troubled. Our home life was horrid! His father an alcoholic/drug addict. We were victims. I had him admitted to a 6 week treatment facility. It didn’t change him. One speaker I heard said: “Once a person ‘crosses that line’ from contemplating suicide to planning it, there’s no going back. You can have them committed. A month, a year, but, there’s no removing those thoughts. When they are released from their treatment, they’ll still commit suicide.” That helped me so very much. May God bless those contemplating … as I’m convinced … ONLY He can to see through the clouds and see the light.
Dee Thompson - March 18, 2024 3:10 pm
Bless you for posting this, Sean. I know your dad’s death profoundly traumatized you, and you are trying to prevent another person from going through that.
I adopted my son when he was 10 years old, a few months after I met him. When my son was age 6, his older brother [early 20’s] committed suicide. His name is now part of a tattoo of angel’s wings across my son’s chest. Another tattoo memorializes a friend my son lost to suicide eight years ago. Two other friends committed suicide. My son is only 27. We know all too well it’s an epidemic! It’s heartbreaking. My son battled addiction for years but he is finally sober, thanks be to God. Grief is a terrible thing.
For anyone reading this who knows a veteran in need of help, please look into Comfort Farm in Milledgeville, Georgia. My friend Jon Jackson founded it — and Jon came close to committing suicide in 2014, after 6 tours of Iraq. Comfort Farms helps veterans heal through a unique program of agro-therapy. Taking care of living animals and growing living things is an amazingly excellent way to heal from PTSD and other horrors that lead to suicide. Keeping one’s hands busy, nurturing life, heals. After my father died the only thing that really comforted me at all was this Chinese proverb: “The cure for dirt is soap and water. The cure for death is life.”
stephen e acree - March 18, 2024 3:47 pm
What a powerful column today, Sean. I cannot imagine the pain from losing your dad. Im in a hard place now but I have children that need me and I know it is not an answer at all. But I can see people in so much pain with seemingly no hope thinking this is the solution. Our world has so much stress and negative in our face each day. Your stories are a big part of our day and certainly mine. Love is the answer. Kindness and caring for others is the way. Thank you, Sean. You are a beacon of good in a hard world for many now.
Patricia Taylor - March 18, 2024 11:49 pm
Amen…