My Suicide Survivor Story

When a family member commits suicide, the aftermath is not an easy one. The aftermath is actually a never ending one. The misery and heartache lives on forever. My father committed suicide when I was 18 years old, 15 years ago, and it still sometimes feels as if it was just yesterday. Suicide has changed my life forever and I can never go back to the person I was before May 22, 1992.

I will start from the beginning. My mother and father divorced when I was only about five years old. He had weekend visitation but didn't always show up. He had ridiculous excuses as to why he couldn't pick me up. One such excuse was that he had no pants to wear. Good one, right? Well I went many years of this type of on again off again visitation. My mother hated it but what could she do. She tried her hardest to make my life as normal as possible. She never bad mouthed my father in front of me. When I got old enough to understand things, she told me that she would never be the one to take him out of my life, he would do that on his own one day. She hated watching the mental abuse that he was dishing out.

When I was about 13 years old, my father married his second wife. The mental anguish didn't stop when he got together with her. She was only about 19 years old when they met. She is only about eight years older than I am. They planned a whole wedding with me in it just to elope and not tell me until I over heard it that Christmas. They went on to have two children, a year and a half apart. Around the time that their second child was born, my mother decided enough was enough. She felt it was time to move far away from all the family drama that my father and new stepmother provided as well as her family. We moved from NJ to Las Vegas, NV, where my uncle and aunt lived. It was time to start a new life. I was almost 16 years old at the time.

In the beginning, Las Vegas was a hard place to adjust to. I lived in a small town in NJ my entire life up to that point. We moved into a big city with a lot of vices readily available. I think that I adjusted well to my new environment. The schools were different than on the east coast. I was entering into my junior year in high school when we moved there and I already had more credits than any other junior did. I went to school at 7:30 in the morning and got out at 1:30pm. It was an awesome change from the 8am to 3pm schedule that I was used to in NJ. Senior year was even better. I went in at 7am and got out at 11am. I made friends easily and enjoyed my new life, away from my mother's family and father and his wife. I did miss my brother and sister as I always wanted siblings, but they are 13 and 15 years younger than I am.

I graduated from high school in 1991 and went on to a community college, to only later drop out and decide that I would rather work for the time being. I got a job as a camera girl in the casinos and that is when my gambling addiction started. My father was a huge gambler. Whenever I spent time with him when he would pick me up for visitation we would head off to the horse track to bet on horses. I was only 18 years old when I started my casino job so I gambled illegally and I did it a lot. I gambled daily. We lived right across the street from a casino, right off of the famous "strip". I never got carded and never got kicked out. I started another nasty habit at this time too, drinking. I would sit at the bar in the casino by my house and drink and gamble the night away. It was my past time, so to speak.

May 22, 1992, I was getting ready to go out with my friends and I was sitting on the steps in front of our apartment. We were trying to figure out what it was we were going to do that night. The front door opened and there stood my mother, hysterical. I kept asking her what was wrong and she just cried more. I ended up going into the house to see what the problem was. She couldn't speak. She cried, sobbed and hugged me and that was all she could do. It took at least a good five to ten minutes for her to utter the words "your father". That was enough to get me crying hysterically. It wasn't for about another five minutes that we were both able to slow the crying down for her to say that he was found dead. The word suicide didn't come into the conversation for a few minutes more. My father's father had called my mother to tell her that he was found in the family beach house in what was once my room when we visited there. He shot himself in the chest with a shotgun and left a note for my stepmother and one for his sister. He did this on my stepmother's birthday. My cousin was going to be visiting the beach house that night, conveniently, since it was his prom night and he was using the house for a party. My cousin, my same age, was the one to find him. He was already gone when my cousin got there.

That night, I couldn't even stand to breathe. The horror of what I imagined was too much to handle. I decided to spend the evening with my new best friend, Rum. I drank the whole bottle, straight, and that didn't do much but numb the pain a little. It was time to face the demons of my past and get on a plane to go to the funeral and wake. Of course, I drank on the plane too. I drank in NJ and a lot of my memories are a little hazy because of all the alcohol and eventually drugs. My stepmother greeted me with open arms. She was very secretive though and wouldn't allow me to stay with her and the kids while I was in NJ. I didn't understand why at the time but later on I found out the truth. My father killed himself because he caught her cheating on him, not once but a few times. Her new boyfriend was in the picture at the time but she didn't tell me or anyone about him at this point. New information was just recently brought to my attention. He planned this whole event from January of that year. What really gets me is the fact that he planned it and sent her many letters leading up to May 22nd and he never picked up a phone to call me or send me a letter or even mention me in any of the letters. How upsetting. This man abused me my entire life and then doesn't even have the good sense that God gave him to at least say goodbye to me somehow. He didn't want help so he wouldn't have lived and I certainly couldn't have saved him and that is one fact that I was well aware of early on. I just feel that I deserved at least a goodbye or a letter. I am still not over that 15 years later.

The wake was excruciating. My mother even had a hard time at it. She wanted to choke his dead body for what he has done to my life. People had to hold her back at one point. Seeing him for the first time in about two years lying in a coffin dead was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do in my life. No child, even at 18 I say child, should have to go through what I have. He may have taken his life, but he took a part of mine that day too, a part that I will never get back. The wake was two session and in between the afternoon and evening sessions, we all went to my aunt's house to eat and rest. It was there that drugs enter this story. My aunt and stepmother decided that drinking was what they needed to do so naturally, being the drunk that I was, I joined right in. What changed things was that my stepmother was prescribed tranquilizers during this time and she decided that I needed some. Not one, but two. Add the three or four White
Russians and you have an incredibly terrible situation on your hand. Being all of 100 pounds, one pill would have been enough. The alcohol and added pill should have never been in the picture. I was delirious and confused by the time we got back to the funeral home. I ended up locking myself in the small bathroom and not being able to figure out how to get out for a good amount of time. I do remember being in the bathroom completely confused. I do not remember getting out of the bathroom or the evening session of the wake, not at all.

The next morning was the funeral. My brother and sister were there. They were only two and four years old at the time. My stepmother also wanted me present when she told them that daddy wasn't coming home again. That was the single most horrible moment of this whole event. My brother didn't quite understand being only two. My sister on the other hand, cried and screamed and lost her mind. It was the hardest thing to see. My stepmother lied to them though and I didn't agree with that one bit. She told them that he died in a truck accident. My brother was terrified of trucks for quite a while after that. She should not have lied, just told them age appropriate things, like daddy was sick and had to leave to go to God. That would have been more than enough for them to understand until they got older. The funeral was short, thankfully and the party afterward was equally as short. I got the $75 that police found in his pocket when he was found dead. I took that money and my brother and sister to the toy store. I bought them whatever they wanted. After all, I wasn't really his daughter at this point since he didn't treat me as such and they were treated as his only kids.

A few days later, we went back home. This is where my mother loses it. She can't handle me anymore. I am depressed and doing nothing but drinking. To her, she didn't realize that the drinking was this out of hand. I hid a lot of it as much as possible. The gambling and drinking consumed my life, as well as boys. I went out with and slept with any man that would give me the time of day. I needed that male attention that I didn't get from my father. It was the beginning of a very long road of destruction. Self destruction to be exact. My mother and I were at odds with each other and that didn't help the situation. I needed counseling but refused it at this point. I slowed down on my destruction when my mother said that she was moving to Phoenix to take a new job offer that she had gotten. I had to decide if I was going to stay in Vegas, where I loved, or move on and start a new life once again. After contemplating the situation, I made the right decision, I moved with my mother in hopes of leaving my misery behind in Vegas as well as my bad habits.

We moved to Phoenix in October of 1992, just months after my father's death. It proved to be a great move for both of us. She seemed happier at her new job and had new friends that she enjoyed hanging out with. It took me a little longer to get to a good place within myself. I believe it was shortly after we moved that I hit rock bottom. I caused my mother a lot of grief in the beginning and now see it, where as I didn't see it then. I just turned 19 and the drinking was still consuming a big part of my life. Gambling was not in the picture now because I was not in Vegas. I decided one day that I didn't want to live like this anymore and maybe the best thing to do is to just end it all. I had a full bottle of Tylenol in my hand and a bottle of Rum and sat in my bedroom staring at them for a while. I was planning on ending it. Suddenly, I remember thinking clearly for the first time in a very long time and thinking how stupid I was being. I had a brother and sister in NJ that would one day need a big sister. My mother was alone besides me and why do I want to punish her. I started therapy in Phoenix and left after a few sessions. It did do me some good though. I got a good job at an advertising agency and started to enjoy life again. Of course I was drinking occasionally but not like before.

Fast forward a few years to 1995. I was working at a sports bar that was owned by a Phoenix Suns player and enjoying life. I was making good money, had a lot of friends and liked where my life was going at the time. My mother got sick and needed to move back to NJ. I decided to stay in AZ for the time being. I wasn't ready to leave yet. I knew that I would eventually follow my mother but that was not the right time and I could feel it within me. She moved in December of 1995. In January of 1996, I met Michael and we started dating. He was three years older than me and had four kids. He said all the right things and followed up on things as well. Something I wasn't so used to at this point. I told my mother by phone that I was dating him and that oh...he is black. She told me that I am free to date whoever I wanted to and that she suggests that I do not get pregnant by him though. Being interracial was too confusing as she so nicely put it. Little did I know at the time, I was already pregnant.

A few weeks later, I found out that I was pregnant. I was happy. I couldn't believe it. I called my mother just to hear her tell me to get an abortion and come home. She hung up on me and didn't call me back for a few days. I was crushed. When she did finally call me back, she apologized and explained her issues. She said that she will support me and love that baby no matter what. I felt better and knew that I had support, emotionally. My good relationship with Michael starts to suffer due to many reasons. We moved in together and his ex wife was a nuisance. She tried to do whatever she could to get me to leave him. She bothered us daily. My hormonal fits didn't help matters. He was in it for the long haul but I wasn't. I also saw no future with him. I felt that it was time to go back to NJ when I was three months pregnant. I didn't need the added stress that his ex was causing as well as the money problems that were happening. I left AZ to go back "home" to NJ in May of 1996. I moved in with someone you would never have guessed...my stepmother and her new husband, the one that my father found her with and the reason that he killed himself. My brother at the time was about seven and my sister was about nine years old. It was a joy to be able to be with them but that joy only lasted so long.

After about a month or so living there, my stepmother started to treat me like my father always did. She was horrible. I decided to move in with my mother and grandmother, about an hour away from my stepmother's house. I kept in touch with my stepmother and brother and sister, although I didn't care for my stepmother after how she was treating me. I had the baby on November 16, 1996, one day after my due date. Alexa Janae was the start of a whole new life and a new outlook for me. She saved my life. She saved me from my own self destruction. She made me whole again. Being a single mother would have been a very hard job but I had not only my mother for support, I also had my grandmother. When Lexi was about to turn one, my stepmother would no longer speak to me and I just left well enough alone. We had no fights or issues, this was just sudden and for no apparent reason.

When Lexi was three, I met Scott. I dated a few people in between having Lexi and meeting Scott but none of those relationships lasted long. I worked full time, was raising my daughter on my own and attending nursing school. I was busy and loving that my life was going so well. Scott asked me out a few time and I told him no because I just got out of a bad relationship. After him bugging me for about the millionth time, I finally accepted to meet him at my friend's party. We met through mutual friends. He worked with my friend's boyfriend. We hung out at the party and I decided that he wasn't so bad and that I should give him a shot. We went on our first date a week later. I knew that night that he was the one. Something just shouted out to me that he is the one and I should keep dating him. I did just that and in October of 2001, we got married. We had our first child in February of 2003 after a year of infertility issues. I was diagnosed with polycystic ovarian syndrome when we were trying to conceive and that caused a little bit of stress on our relationship but we survived and I think we were a stronger couple because of it. His parents caused a great deal of stress on us and we almost split up a few times because of them. Somehow we made it through the first few years of marriage and all that came with it.

Christmas of 2003, our son's first Christmas, his parents came over for dinner. Within about twenty minutes of them being there, his mother assaulted me with gifts. She started throwing gifts at me and actually hit the baby with one as well. She was screaming that I am getting what I want and I am a horrible person and the nasty words were flying. That was the last time I have had to deal with them as they are no longer welcome in our family. Of course, the fight escalated and Scott no longer wishes to speak to his family. He tried many times to clear things up but to no avail. We are much better off as a couple and as a family without them trying to control us and split us up.

Two months after this event, we found out that not everything a doctor says is true. We were told that we only had a 1% chance of getting pregnant without fertility assistance after we had our son. February 1, 2004, I found out that I was pregnant, without fertility assistance. We had our second son that September. Another son followed closely in December of 2005. Our family is now complete. Four children is more than I ever expected to be able to have so I have been extremely blessed.

After years of trying to contact my brother and sister behind my stepmother's back, I finally had a lead that proved to be the right one. I found my 17 year old brother on Myspace and contacted him. He had just made his myspace page a few weeks prior. He emailed me immediately and I cried. I had tried to contact them for years. I sent my stepmother letters and Christmas cards with pictures of the kids every year for about four or five years. I missed them and felt that something was always missing from my life, besides my father. My brother remembered me and welcomed me with open arms. He talked to our sister and told her the situation and she immediately contacted me. My sister came up for her first visit during my oldest son's birthday party. It was a dream come to life. I was so excited to see her, now 19 years old and beautiful and kind and loving. She welcomed my husband and children into her family right away. My kids couldn't wait to meet the aunt that I told them all about, usually while crying. My brother came for his first visit the week following. He played with the kids and I just watched and tears built up. The only two people I have left from my father and here they are, and happy to be here. My brother found all the letters that my father wrote the months leading up to his suicide and brought them to me to see. They answered a lot of unanswered questions for me. I was finally able to move on after almost 15 years of wondering. My brother and sister did not know that he committed suicide but guessed it from the letters that they found. My stepmother and her second husband separated just a year before I got in contact with my siblings. She is getting ready to marry for the third time in a few weeks. I did have a meeting with her recently. It went smoothly. It needs to. I need my brother and sister in my life so I need to find peace and an even ground with my stepmother. After all, we never had a fight or problem, she just wanted to erase my father from my siblings life and I needed to go in her eyes. I am a constant reminder of her past, a past that she would like to forget and I totally understand that. It must have been terrible to know that the things that she did helped to fuel a mental problem in my father's head which lead to his own self demise. Although I do not blame her, I think things should have been done a little differently. But at this point in time, that is neither here nor there. I welcomed my stepmother back into our lives with open arms but keep her at arm's length. We are planning on spending this Christmas with her and my siblings as a family, for the first time ever.

Things are great with my siblings now. My brother just turned 18 and went off to college last month. We talk on the computer a few times a week. He is my son JD's idol. The kids adore the heck out of him and he is a great role model for my kids. My sister comes to visit us at least once a month if not more. We have spent a lot of time together and she is another wonderful role model for my kids. My husband also loves them as if they were his siblings and things couldn't be better.

I now do not drink or gamble anymore, other than an occasional time here or there. I have been to the horse track a few times in the past but not recently. I feel that in the right environment, my gambling problem will come back. Alcohol though is another story. I can have a drink from time to time without any issues. I do not drink much though. I have maybe two glasses of wine a year at most. I am now a mother, wife, sister, daughter, and they are more important than drinking and partying. I have not had any depression issues or other mental issues, like my father, but I am aware of them and what to look for. I will not allow my kids to go through half of what I went through with my father. My mother has always been my rock and still is and that is how I want my children to feel about me.

I never finished nursing school, although I tried a few times but each time I would find out I was pregnant again, which was more important to me. Since having my last baby, I decided it was time to go back to school. I decided after some research that I would not be able to handle nursing school now. It is too time consuming and I can't do that to the kids. They need a mother 100% of the time. I have always enjoyed writing and saw an ad in the paper for a writer for the local paper. I decided to try it out. After my first story went in, my editor said that I have a real talent here. I got the cover of the paper the very next week. I have since done many stories and most story ideas are my own. I draw on my experiences and interests and that makes for an interesting story. I have been working at the local paper for about eight months now and still going strong. I enjoy it and I don't have to leave my kids. I work from home and I can take the kids to cover most stories. I am now a journalism major in college so that I can walk away with a college degree and show my kids that it is a possibility in any situation. I want to make them proud of my efforts and since kids learn by example, I want them to be inspired to do the same when they are older.

I had a near setback this past December when we were on our way to the mall. A Toys R Us tractor trailer rear ended a car and pushed it head on into our minivan at about 55 mph. The way it cut across the car and hit in the middle and on my side was devestating to the car. It was totalled. My husband was the driver and the kids were in the second and third rows of the minivan. Everyone suffered some kind of injuries but thankfully nothing serious. My husband had a broken foot and bruises. I had a broken arm and bruises up and down my entire body. I also had burns on my face from the airbag and a bloody nose. No one on the scene was sure how it was that I walked out of the car and with a child in my arms, but I did. I credit my dead family members since I know they are my angels. They saved us that day and I am forever grateful. I got another chance at life. If a cat has nine lives, I wonder how many a person has. I already used up a few so lets hope it is at least nine. The accident made me see life in a different perspective than I was. I appreciate the little things in life more now. Knowing that on December 17, 2006 could have been my last day on Earth, made me realize that I am not promised tomorrow. I appreciate each day now as if it were my last one alive.

Suicide doesn't only take one life, it takes many. My father's suicide took my life for a very long time. It was only recently that I have come to terms, 100%, and now can move past it. It will always be a big part of who I am and how I live my life. My children will know the truth about their grandfather when they are older. My ten year old knows the truth now and she is thankful that I didn't lie about it. If you are depressed or have mental incapabilities, get help before you destroy not only your life, but the lives around you as well. Help is easy to find. If you see that your loved one is doing things like giving their possessions away or writing letters that just scream for help, don't ignore it like my stepmother did, get them help. There is a better way and taking your life isn't it. Life is worth living and everyone should have a shot at happiness and a good life.