Content warning: Suicide is mentioned in this post.
If you or someone you know is in crisis or at risk for suicide, call or text 988 or chat online at 988lifeline.org. The 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline provides free and confidential emotional support to people in suicidal crisis or emotional distress, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week in the United States.
by Minna Bothwell
Not every story has a happy ending. Some stories are violent; some are silenced; and others remain unfinished. It’s one thing to know this, but it’s an entirely different thing to live it.
My brother Bruce’s story ended abruptly in the middle of the night on June 7, 2022. In moments, the pages of his life just quit turning. We were left with no choice but to accept an impossible ending.
It is a kind of hell not to be allowed to finish a story that has so much potential.
I wish I could say that I don’t remember the days that followed his death, but every moment still rattles in my mind and my body, wounds that will not heal. They seep, day in and day out—trauma at its finest.
Bruce was an amazing brother, son, husband, father, and friend. His narrative was filled with joy, faithfulness, love and laughter. There was no scenario in which it would end by suicide. Ten months before Bruce’s death, he had an injury on a job site. The surgical options weren’t going to be total fixes, and his brain began to play tricks on him. Depression and anxiety quickly became villains that ultimately got away with murder.
It is a daily struggle for those who loved him to live in the aftermath of his death.
Collective trauma
When an entire support system experiences trauma together, grieving becomes uniquely different. Those who you would typically lean on the most are hurting just as much or more than you are. You want so desperately to care for each other, but at the same time, you can’t even care for yourself. Similarly, it is difficult to be around people who haven’t experienced trauma as they are unable to grasp the complexity of it. Trauma and its effects are often misunderstood.
There is no going back.
It has been more than two years since Bruce died. It’s strange how it feels like it was yesterday and simultaneously a lifetime ago.
Suicide has found its way into every aspect of my life now. I cannot go back to a pre-suicide world because it no longer exists. And perhaps the hardest part is that life goes on. It doesn’t wait for anyone.
Post-traumatic living requires an unfair amount of resiliency. I remember in the days following Bruce’s death, I no longer had the strength to trust or believe in a God. Nothing made sense anymore. If God was omnipotent and loving, how could this happen? It was perhaps the first time that my core beliefs were turned upside down. Trauma has a way of undermining everything you thought you knew about others, the world, and God.
Trauma can leave a chemical mark on a person’s genes, altering how that gene is expressed. This mark, intergenerational transmission of trauma, can then be passed down to future generations. Trauma becomes a very real part of one’s physical existence–those wounds that seep. There is no “moving on,” at least not without trauma.
In the search to figure out how to exist in this post-traumatic world, I came across research on post-traumatic growth or PTG. PTG evaluates the changes in one’s concept of the world, relationships with others, God, and the self. It involves positive responses in five different areas; relationships, appreciation for life, personal strength, spiritual change and understanding of life.
Examples of post-traumatic growth are: developing increased patience, being more aware of what was previously overlooked, or embracing new opportunities.
It takes a village
The amount of support needed to survive a traumatic event cannot be calculated. Truly, one needs an entire village to be willing to show up. Family, friends, therapists, colleagues, congregations, educational opportunities, and healthcare are just the beginning.
Nearly 70% of people experience trauma at some point in their lives. Recent studies show that 2 out of every five members in our congregations have experienced trauma, and 30% of adults have experienced religious trauma.
As congregations and leaders of the church, we are uniquely positioned to help people find comfort and healing from suffering. Educating our communities about trauma and its effects is one way we can become informed communities. As informed communities, we can then support the work of post-traumatic growth and help build the capacity for transformation.
The Rev. Minna Bothwell serves Capitol Hill Lutheran Church in the East Village of Des Moines, Ia.
September is Suicide Prevention Month. Learn more and get involved with these organizations:National Alliance on Mental Illness https://www.nami.org/get-involved/awareness-events/suicide-prevention-month-spm/ Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration https://www.samhsa.gov/newsroom/observances/suicide-prevention-month 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline https://988lifeline.org/promote-national-suicide-prevention-month/ National Suicide Awareness Week September 9-14 https://togetherletswalk.afsp.org/ American Foundation for Suicide Prevention Weekhttps://afsp.org/national-suicide-prevention-week/ |
A version of this post first appeared in the August 2024 issue of Boldcafe.org.
Thank you for your article. My family dealt with my father’s suicide in the late 1980s. My mother just wanted us to lie and say cancer caused his death. Twenty years later my brother died by suicide. I spoke the words because I had children and I wanted them to know we together could solve problems. It is only in using the word suicide that we begin to knock down its power.