Sarah C’Ailceta's shared experience

Hey there. I’m so sorry that you have found yourself needing these resources, but I’m so glad you’re here. I hope that if nothing else, my story gives you hope for a better day. 

I grew up surrounded by love. There was only a 20 month age gap between Stephen and I. It was us against the world. I knew as long as I had him by my side everything would be okay. On Monday 26th January 2004, my world fell apart; my life as I had known it was gone. This was my pinnacle point. The girl that opened her eyes that day ceased to exist, and I had to start a new path. I want to explain a bit about how things over the few days before and after played out as it's such an important part of my story.

Stephen was staying with our grandparents when he passed away. This wasn’t an unusual thing; we spent a lot of time with them growing up. I stayed at home. Stephen had been out all day with a friend. He came back to my grandparents house for dinner, then went back out. He kissed my grandma goodbye, said he would be home by 10pm and left. That was his last goodbye. When he didn’t return home, my mum was called, as were the police. At this time we didn’t know where he was or what had happened. We just knew it was out of character for him to not come home. 

As a young teen on a Sunday night, I was asleep at home unaware of what was unfolding. My mum popped her head into my room, said that she was going to my grandparents house as Stephen hadn’t come home. Not to worry, She was sure everything was fine and to go back to sleep as I had school in the morning. As the sun rose on that Monday, nothing could prepare me for what was coming. I headed to Stephen’s school with my step-dad to see if he had turned up there. We then went home in case he came back. A few hours later, two of my uncles arrived at our house. They took my mum into the dining room and closed the door. I stood in the hallway and overheard everything. They’d found him.

I was numb. I didn’t understand. I wanted all the information. I begged family members not to hide anything from me. I felt like an adult. I wanted to know. However, I was not equipped with any coping mechanisms for what was to come. I was a child trying to navigate a very adult situation. I was confused that my brother had died by suicide. Where were the warning signs? Where was the letter? The explanation? The goodbye? There was absolutely nothing. He was there, then he wasn’t. He didn’t have a mental health diagnosis. He wasn’t known to any services. He had never made any attempt to take his life, until he did. 

The lack of information and explanation surrounding his death has been the most difficult part of my grieving process. Not having any closure left me stalled for a really long time. I couldn’t process the situation because I didn’t know why. 

A lot of things changed overnight for my family. One thing I did not anticipate was social isolation. People don’t know what to say, so they don't say anything. I became the girl whose brother died. People didn’t know my name; I was Stephen’s sister. I lost friends. I was stared at and whispered about in school. As an adult, people ask intrusive questions and think nothing of it; wanting all the ins and outs of what happened like your trauma is a bit of gossip. People have less compassion because they think the person you have lost made a choice to die. I urge anyone to think about it differently. Imagine feeling so strongly that your family and friends are better off without you around; it’s debilitating. It’s brave to take those final actions. I do not think anyone who has died by suicide had a choice. If they felt like they did, I have no doubt they would still be with us. 

Time seems to have passed in the blink of an eye since that day. 17 years later and I just feel now that I am coming out of the other side. I think it has taken that long mainly due to how young I was when he passed away. There were absolutely no resources or support back then. It was business as usual. Go back to school and get on. So I suppressed all of my emotions. I learned to function really well on the surface and buried everything else. It wasn’t until 2020, when I turned 30, that I faced all of the things that I buried all those years ago.

I found the 5 stages of grief fascinating in therapy. I realised I was stuck in the anger phase for about 14 years! I held on to so much anger and resentment towards the one person I’d give anything to wrap my arms around one more time. But for my own mental health, I’ve learned to be at peace with those feelings. The depression stage left me experiencing a lot of suicidal ideations and lack of worth. I desperately wanted to be with my brother again. The bravest thing I did when I was having these feelings was ask for help. Consequently, I have done a lot of work on myself and also had the support I feel I should have received when we first lost Stephen. As the anger has subsided and the depression has lifted, I’ve found that one of the biggest turning points was speaking with people who had also been bereaved by suicide. In 17 years I had not spoken to one person who had been bereaved in the same way.

My hopes for this article are to help people see they are not alone. Families that have been bereaved by suicide have such varying stories. If I can help one person feel seen and understood, I would be over the moon. 

One of my favourite quotes that I try and remember on my not so great days is from Harry Potter: “Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, when one only remembers to turn on the light.”

Written by Sarah C’Ailceta.