Making Sense of a Suicide

I once heard suicide described as the emotional equivalent of lobbing a boulder into our emotions. The consequences ripple out far beyond the immediate event itself, and often have lasting consequences, especially where the cause of the suicide is unclear. I think this case may be the saddest one I’ve dealt with, but one in which to this day, I remain confident that I was able to bring both closure and peace to my client.

My client approached me without any clear idea of how I could help, beyond that the suicide of her elder brother many years before, remained for her an open wound; a question without an answer that troubled her even fifty years after the event. 

From her perspective, without any explanation, her brother committed suicide. During the Second World War, my client’s brother was a maintenance engineer in the Royal Air Force. Given the circumstances therefor, I think my client was always aware of the risk that her brother would be killed. What I don’t think had ever crossed her mind was that he would take his own life.

Prior to his death, my client said that she knew there was something wrong. Her brother had become very nervous, wary of strangers and would jump at unexpected noises. She knew that something was bothering him deeply, but every time she asked, he’d not only deflect the conversation, but would make it clear that he was almost scared of discussing the issue.

Things came to a head when her brother, whom my client adored, committed suicide. The shock for my client was compounded by the fact that he was her hero in every respect, but that in his death, there was no explanation. He left a suicide note that apologised for his actions but left no explanation for his choice.

Some seventy years later, my client was referred to me by a colleague who knew that I am skilled in holding the space to allow difficult messages to be unravelled. Almost as soon as I began the sitting, my client’s bother presented himself. His story left my client initially then relieved and healed.

In the summer of 1942, my client’s brother had been working in the maintenance stores of an Airforce base, when he was approached by a “colleague” who offered to introduce him to a “scheme”. It all seemed innocent enough at the start. All he had to do was not notice certain activities by his “colleague” that he might see and wonder over.

From there, he was encouraged to “help” his colleague with moving some materials. “Nothing dodgy, you understand, just being helpful”. From there, he was progressively drawn into what he only latterly realised was a black-market theft and resale scam involving supplies stolen from the Airforce.

When he finally realised what was going on, he tried to back out. At that point however, he began to realise just how ruthless his “colleagues” were. They made it clear that were he to say anything to anyone, they’d make sure that his family, his sister, my sitter, would suffer the consequences.

Having started with minor thefts, things rapidly developed as his “colleagues” realised that he was both a liability and expendable. They realised that he was not, never would be, a career criminal, so could be used and spat out when the need arose. They increased the pressure on him, knowing that he would never talk to anyone, lest his sister suffer the consequences.

And one day, it all became too much. He realised that his only way out was suicide. But even in taking his own life, he could never explain why he had done so. So, he left my client with a question that haunted her for much of her life. Why did her brother kill himself?

It’s sometimes said that the truth will set you free. That’s a view with which I have always agreed. In my experience, most secrets are seldom welcome and are almost always corrosive. They can eat away at those who hold them and do untold damage to those who are not party to them.

On this occasion, after tears and sadness, my client finally had the answer she needed; why had her beloved brother killed himself. In that one moment, painful though the answer was, I could see my client begin to live again, to open up to the world with a new confidence.

So often, my work is about bringing explanations to my clients, and hence, closure. While the truth may not be comfortable, it’s far better than the fears and imaginings which plague them from not knowing.

My client was able to move on with the truth, no matter how uncomfortable. Since then, she has been able to set those events in their proper place, letting go of the confusion, the hurt and the guilt that perhaps she had contributed to the outcome.

May her life from here continue to blossom.