Christian 'Kit' Rossiter, Always by our side - Jules Heath Lived Experience

'My son Christian 'Kit', died by suicide on Monday 22nd March 2021. Christian had been suffering from severe depression and this depression told him that life was not worth living, that he was a burden. It took his past and his future. Suicide was the final symptom of that depression. Christian had left home for a walk, one of his many tools for dealing with his pain, on Monday afternoon, 22nd March 2021. We alerted the police when he didn't return at a time which was usual for him.

The following day, after an extensive search involving family, friends, villagers, the wider community, police, search and rescue with dogs and the National Helicopter Rescue Service, a forensic search of his home and ours, his body was found in nearby woods. I will never forget the look in the brave young police officer's eyes, above his Covid mask, when he returned to the house to tell us a body had been found, and that I would need to identify it. In that moment so many people's lives were touched and changed. , Christian, clever and insightful though he was, would have been astounded at the ripple effect his suicide created and also the show of love, so much love and kindness from our community. For many weeks I was unable to function, my mind and body went into shock and I just about managed to do the necessary death admin and help arrange Christian's funeral. His brothers were incredible as were my husband and his children and many others. I felt as if concrete had been poured into my body and it was not quite setting but creating a huge heaviness. I felt lifeless. I ached for him. I wanted to swap places with him and I begged for him to come home and be with his brothers. I would say to anyone experiencing a loss by suicide to go gently if possible, accept help, ask for help if you feel able, try to talk to others who have lost in this way if you think that might help you. Try to be kind and gentle to yourself - the feelings of guilt associated with loss to suicide can be overwhelming and grief generally is exhausting. Go with your feelings, dreadful though they may be, your body needs to release these emotions. Be open... people want to help and listen but may struggle to know what to say to you. I think it's so hard for them too. Almost four years on from Christian's suicide, I realise that I was in

shock for maybe the first two years, which is classed as early days with such a loss. Being open about how I felt helped me and I think it helped others in my life too. I feel no shame around talking about the nature of Christian's death. If I could chat to him now I would reassure him that there was no shame or stigma in what he did. It was a desperate act. He was unable to see a way through his terrible suffering and pain (in his own words, torture). When I speak with people in support groups who have lost a loved one to suicide many of them have felt unable to discuss the cause and nature of their death, even with close family. If we are to see suicide numbers fall surely this has to change, the conversation has to be started and continued. Grief, for me, is a huge mess. A mess I have tried to sit with, to enable me to feel I'm processing it in a natural way. The pain can feel utterly unbearable. Sometimes it's as raw as the day Christian died. A wailing raw grief, silent screaming, actual screaming (usually in the car when listening to Christian's favourite Nick Drake, the only music I could bear for the first year), a rolling around on the floor grief. At other times, a softer, sobbing grief, a yearning. Sometimes a numbness, often a feeling of being brainless, memory loss and hours spent ruminating. An inability to be there for Christian's brothers and my partner, which feels awful too. I sometimes long for sleep as I have many vivid dreams - Christian is often in them with us all, which is wonderful. Almost four years on I feel my grief has softened. Some days are still extremely difficult for me and I accept that and see it as my continuing love for my son. Some days almost feel as difficult as the first days but I feel as long as I can find some joy in my life that I can accept the pain too. They go hand in hand for me and accepting this has helped me so much. 

I used to feel so much guilt acknowledging any grain of happiness. How could I feel happy when I've lost my son? It felt as though I was moving forward and therefore that he was moving further away. I have tried to ask for and accept help as much as possible. From my husband, family and friends, my dog, community and nature. I had weeks as an inpatient in a psychiatric hospital after Christian's inquest, when my mind and body had reached a point of breakdown. I am now beginning to feel Christian with me in my heart, feeling comfort in that, and less of the awful pain. I am able to love him in a different way. Previously I was living with his pain, well, in it. He is no longer in pain and I want and need to honour his life, for him, my husband, Christian's brothers and our loved ones. A friend of Christian's recommended a book to me, it's called 'Sum'. It is a book about possible scenarios for the afterlife. It says that 'you do not truly die until the last person on earth has stopped thinking about you'. I love that thought. Christian is still with us and 'alive' in so many ways. A tree has been planted in the village (a silver birch, his favourite) and there's a bench in his name at his place of work. Supporting charity helps us too, knowing that money raised in Christian's memory will help others suffering with their mental health.

Since losing Christian I feel my relationship with others has changed. Some relationships feel a little distant and others feel closer. I try to understand that this is normal and that I have changed. There are things that help me cope... drawing (I'm no artist, think stick men!). I draw scenes from the past four years. Drawing really helps me process my feelings, and be there again, in those scenes. I find this so therapeutic. Having Christian's special possessions near me is also such a comfort, I take his woolly hat when I travel so his DNA is there too! We use his things, his brothers and my partner, and friends have chosen someof his clothes, tools, artwork etc. I love having lots of photos of him in the house. My son Christian died by suicide but that does not define him or our family, he is so much more than that ... 29, kind, empathetic, hater of injustice, musical, silly, complex, yogi, handsome, curly haired, lute playing, articulate, stubborn, philosophical, engineer, guitarist, brother, friend, cousin, so I continue to find such solace in the Suicide&Co community. I am so grateful for it! It is somewhere to connect with others who have lost. It makes such a difference to me. Go gently when you can, and know that your grief is your grief. There is no formula and there should be no pressure. It's your timeline. A recent piece of advice which has been really useful to me... "as long as you are eventually able to feel even a tiny bit of happiness in your day, you will be ok" x' 

Written by Jules Heath