Suicide and Self harm. Pain and Tragedy. And Guilt

Mum committed suicide on 27th August last year. 

Eight months previous, my Father had passed away due to complications caused by vascular dementia.

I miss her every day. 

I never expected it. Never thought she’d do it. Never thought she’d go through with it. 

My sister, as usual, wise after the event, says it was coming, she was going to do it. She speaks with an air of inevitability. 

Mum had tried before. She’d taken two overdoses. One was many years ago and the other more recent, when coping with Dad became too much. She talked of wanting to die as she lay, half drugged into a stupor, in her hospital bed. 

A fall had broken her hip. She had limited mobility. Carers dominated her life and, being severely diabetic, under constant threat of amputation, eyesight deteriorating, perhaps she couldn’t see a way forward. But I didn’t see it coming. 

There’s a message from her on our answer machine. It’s from the day she came out of hospital. There’s a magical joy in her voice as she sits at the window in her favourite chair and gazes out at her beloved garden, bathed in summer sunshine. She’s home. 

It’s too painful for me to listen to. 

People think I’ve coped. People think I’ve held it together. 

How little they know. 

I feel I let her down. I didn’t do enough. I got things wrong. I was a bad son. I never brought her pleasure or made her proud. I never got her the right flowers. 

And I cry. I lot. Alone. Because I miss her. 

But I’m Autistic. I’m a robot aren’t I ?. I don’t feel. I don’t have emotions. I don’t care. 

But I do care. I do feel. I feel pain so deep you wouldn’t believe. 

I self harm. I think about suicide. I think about just letting the despair and grief wash over me and succumbing to the loss that’s at my core. I want to cut deeper. I want the courage to take all my pills. I want the courage to not wake up. 

But I don’t want to die. 

I just don’t want to wake up tomorrow. 

There is so much I want to tell my Mum. So much I should have told her. So many regrets. And now no time to put things right. I’m crying now. 

I’m sorry Mum. 

I let you down. 

I miss you. 

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