Bipolar Mum Journey

At a young age, I had the unfortunate experience of facing suicide within my family.

When I was 8, my biological father attempted to hang himself in the loft, but luckily the rope snapped. Five years later, he tried again with a mix of prescription, non-prescription drugs and alcohol. This time, he succeeded. I’ll never forget the day I found out. My friends and I had just finished a fundraising event at school for Comic Relief, dressing up as hippies and hosting games for donations. We went to my adoptive grandmother’s house to celebrate. When we arrived, she sent my friends away, saying she had bad news. She bluntly told me, “Your dad’s dead, He killed himself.” There was no gentle lead-up, no comforting words. I remember breaking ornaments off the wall divider and collapsing in a heap, screaming.

A few days later, while at a friend’s house, her mother received a call from my biological grandfather. He blamed me for my father’s death, claiming it was because I had nothing to do with him. That accusation weighed on me for years until, at 27, I received forensic counselling. The counsellor asked me what I would say to my dad if he were still here. Initially, I joked, “Thanks for the trauma, you bastard.” But then I burst into tears. No one had ever asked me how I felt about losing him or what I wish I could say.

Twenty-three years later, my step-dad also took his life, coinciding with the anniversary of his sister’s murder. He showered, shaved, put on his best clothes, and overdosed on prescription drugs. My half sister went to take him lunch and found him unresponsive on the sofa.

Eight months after that, my mother followed suit, taking a lethal amount of heroin after being clean for a long time. I was in my hometown at the time visiting my adoptive grandmother. I woke up to 30 plus missed calls and my stomach dropped. I knew this was the phone call I had been dreading my whole life. It was my half sister hysterically screaming “Mum’s Dead”. The next day I went to her home, I felt compelled to search her bag, something neither the police nor her partner had done. Inside, I found a small notepad filled with suicidal thoughts, confirming that her death was more than likely a suicide as well.

Suicide deeply impacts the entire family, leaving lasting scars on everyone. The loss brings immense sorrow, confusion, and guilt. If you ever find yourself overwhelmed by suicidal thoughts, please reach out in whatever way feels comfortable for you. It’s tough, but remember that these feelings are temporary, and your life is incredibly precious.