`My husband, Padraic, was 29 years old and I was 27 when he died. About two weeks before Padraic died, he became anxious and distressed about problems with the business he managed and he stopped eating. He was afraid he was going to be held responsible for things which were not his fault and that he would be fired. I suggested to him that he talk to my father, who was in the same business, but he did not want to talk to anyone.
Looking back, I have always felt I could have done more, been more responsive to his needs, but I was pregnant and had pregnancy sickness and was very caught up with myself. He did talk to me about his problems at work, but I feel I did not notice things myself which I should have noticed. It took me years to let go of the feelings that I could have done something to prevent my husband's death. But I did - and do - feel we had a good marriage and I feel we were very close. The day Padraic committed suicide, he remained at home while I went out to do the shopping with the two elder girls, aged six and five. I left the youngest girl, aged three, asleep in her cot. When I came home, the bedroom door was locked from the inside, and I immediately realised something was wrong because we never locked the bedroom door. I rang the police and they burst in. Padraic was dead on the floor. He had shot himself with a licensed shotgun (he was a member of a gun club). I briefly saw him dead and in an instant saw the mess in the room, but then they whisked me away. The three-year-old slept through the whole thing because Padraic used a silencer on the gun.
He left me a note, which was not in his usual writing but in rather big writing, which had just three lines: "I'm sorry darling Jean. I've always loved you. Pray for me." It didn't give me much of an insight really. I believe he was thinking about it for some time and was planning to do it. He was reading a book at the time which I later learned contained a graphic description of a suicide which Padraic copied. My immediate reaction to his death was complete and utter devastation and shock. I was in disbelief for a long time that it had even happened. I kept thinking "he's still around somewhere". I felt glad I was pregnant - though a lot of people thought it was unfortunate - because I felt there was still part of him around. I was in disbelief until the baby was born; then I was into reality. It was tough going with a new baby and no husband. I went through guilt, anger, loneliness and rejection; but both my family and his family were extremely good to me. I started a playgroup in my home and kept that going while the children were small. That kept me functioning well.
I badly wanted to talk about the suicide but I couldn't because at that time it was a criminal offence and I felt people's embarrassment around it. People told me not to talk about it. It really used to upset me when people said "Padraic must have gone mad", because to me he was a very sane, sound, good person. It took me seven years, really, to come to terms with the suicide and an important part of that was finding someone else who was bereaved by suicide with whom I could share my feelings.
I told the children about their father's death right away, but not about the suicide. I told them each individually about the suicide as they reached 12 years old and they all took it in different ways. The eldest girl told her friend and her friend already knew. The baby took it harder than the others. She felt he did it because he didn't want her coming into the world, although she's fine about it now. The theory today is to tell the children about the suicide straight away, no matter what age they are, and to let them grow with it and that is what I would advise today. That way there's no dysfunction, no secret in the family. We had the secret of Padraic's suicide for a long time . . . although, children tell me now as adults that they are glad they were not told, that they were devastated and shocked when they heard and were glad they did not have to spend their childhood dealing with that.
I spent the first seven years after Padraic's death searching, then I found very good counselling and decided this was the field I would like to go into. Today I am a counsellor and a facilitator of groups of people bereaved by suicide of close relatives, some of whom come in to the group 10 years after a suicide. The recently bereaved should have one-to-one counselling before they enter such a group. Every day at least 10 people in the Republic are directly affected by suicide, yet only a fraction of these reach out for the support available to them because of the stigma still associated with suicide, six years after it was decriminalised. My groups include parents and siblings, and we also have an awful lot of young girls bereaved by boyfriends' suicides. Suicide is on the increase among young men and they can be as young as 13 years old. It's often quite impulsive; a form of aggression turned inwards.
In the groups we share photographs and suicide notes on a special night when we have a community of the dead, and this works very well. People bond and form very long-lasting friendships.
It is possible to recover from the suicide of a family member or friend and to get on with life. I feel there are a lot of people out there who need help and are not getting it because there is still a great shame attached to having a suicide in the family. Many family members of suicide victims may take their own lives some day because of the guilt and shame they carry around with them. The local doctor or priest can make a real difference by helping the bereaved understand that there is no shame in suicide, and certainly no sin, and by directing them towards counselling."
In conversation with Kathryn Holmquist
Jean Casey is a qualified counsellor registered with the Irish Association of Counselling and Therapy and runs two suicide bereavement groups as well as a private counselling practice in Dublin. For information call 01-8370433.