SINCE - An article about survival since suicide bereavement by Anne-Marie Twigg. In memory of my ex-partner and father to my two children.

One thing that I have learnt with suicide bereavement is that so much but also nothing changes. There is this silent acknowledgement that death by suicide is that person's choice and a decision that’s been made entirely for that person's greater good, which to be completely honest, is infuriating. So much changes, where you have to adapt to live without that person in it. More difficult for those like our children, his work colleagues and family. However, there have been moments where inside I can be feeling so much pain yet I try to distract myself by the hustle and bustle of life, realising most don’t know where or what that pain is. With that comes anger -  sometimes that anger is not at   Damien, it's at the ignorance of those that have no knowledge and that’s not their or our fault.

Especially in our case, people knew what Damien was like as a person. Often described as intelligent and commendable. A boy from Luton, who against the odds, studied hard, qualified in law and knew literally every single clause to every single policy. Troubled childhood, although stronger for it. He’d tell me about how he grew up without his dad, and the effect that had had on him. Then on the day we discovered I was pregnant, apart from saying “shall we get a Chinese tonight?” we looked at each other and I needed reassurance that he would be there. He promised me that he would be around for the boys like his dad wasn’t - that promise hits the hardest.

So much since has happened with their growth, personalities and souls.

I grieve extra hard for our boys. Damien and I had a tough co-parenting adjustment period but had found our way. Alongside the memories of the heart-aching trauma of that morning, I have a longing for Damien to be back earth-side, arguing with me about anything. I’m not sure (if I saw this in another life) that I would care so much about what we were arguing about now.

That is the bitterness of bereavement this way. The should of's, would of's and could of's. Instead we are thrown into the midst of unanswered, unexplainable pain.

Of course, everyone who I have met has found a way. A way of coping and living with this huge gap you never even imagined to be there.

Our children were 4 years and 2 years old when Damien died. As an adult I struggle to understand, so how would they?

Support for the children has been shockingly minimal. It’s like lions den territory of not knowing how to support or what to say because their dad died by suicide. Death in general is so difficult for a child to understand. To them, there’s a chance of, or some hope somewhere that dad will walk in the door.

I have found a way to live with this loss and in turn, help our children and other children. ‘The Seddon Legacy Project’ has since been created in Damien’s name, to help and support grieving children.

This is my focus, I know Damien would have approved, but of course I’d prefer him to be here running through the terms and conditions with me, correcting my spelling etc.

His legacy, our story, their future.