LATE WINTER, EARLY SPRING 1988,MARCH 20TH IS WHEN I LOST MY BIOLOGICAL FATHER, EMILE EDMONDE POULAIN TO SUICIDE WHILE I WAS IN FOSTER CARE. WILL SHARE MORE LATER.

My sweet son Jeff took his life on 12/14/99. We unfortunately were not aware of any problems. It is still painful to write the events leading up to that awful night and also that night. I am better but my life will never be the same and neither will I. I was in a "fog" pretty much for 3 yrs and after the fog lifted, I started drinking. I am trying to stop, but it helps relax me. My pysch told me that I had PTSD and may never get over it. I was the one that found him. My boy was 25 yrs old.

My 22 year old cousin, closer to me than my own brother, took his own life in the winter of 2002. He had a hard life and he took many opportunities to harm himself. I tried to help him, we all did what we could to help him. Nothing was enough and he finalized his human existance with a twenty-two in his mouth. I am mad - I am raw - I am sad and I am still trying to recover.

My aunt drank herself into her grave. She drank so much that she lost the use of the frontal lobe of her brain. She essentially forgot to feed herself and she drank and drank until she finally essentially decomposed from the inside out and her brain finally gave up all functioning. She died October 11th 2005. I am bitter about her choices

My father committed suicide when I was 13yrs old. I was the last person to be alone with him the day he left walking away from our home.

My mother called the police and they did not go to his business that he owned that night. I do know that my father had contacted a Priest at one time and he was told to call back when he wasn't drinking.

I'll never forget getting called out of class to the principles office and was driven home and when the door opened it was my mother their crying with a police officer.

His death affected me for many years and I remembered when I had my !st child I had a dream that my father was holding my daughter.

A girl will search high and low for the love of a father.

Here's my story...
March 28, 2007: day 2 of replacing the roof on our home due to a severe black mold problem (we were staying next door at my brothers through this repair)
My husband, Paul, woke up early, got the kids off to school and cooked bacon and eggs for me, my brother and sister in law and then we would start a long hard days work.
The materials were delivered, the mold inspector came and went, Paul talked to his new boss and was starting work at a new job the next week making 31.80 per hour. He seemed so happy. 12 hours later, he was dead.

We were in the process of "fixing" a broken marriage. For 2 months of this process, he was the dream husband. Soon he became paranoid. Worried and accusing me of cheating. I was distant, protecting my heart with cast iron walls and certainly not going to be accused of doing what he had done to me. When I would get mad, my defense was to tell him to leave. I was not going back to the way it was before. He got to the point that he would not leave my side, went to appointments with me, worked with me when I did my eBay (my job), would even find a reason to come into the bathroom if I was in there. There was nothing feeding this... he just became so afraid of losing his family again.
He threatened to kill himself a few times. Would storm off and then call me and say things like "open up your front door and listen, you will hear all your problems end" He was up in the woods with a gun. My brother (and also my best friend and neighbor for 10 years) spent 6 hours talking to him that day. I had already told him my view on suicide... selfish, coward, permanent solution to a temporary problem. If you are that selfish that you could make your babies grow up without their hero, if you could hurt your mother that way, if you could leave me to pick up the pieces of the mess you left behind.... I don't have time for you.

A week or so later, during an argument, I told him that I was tired of him using his threats to keep me. If he wanted to blow his head off go ahead. He went to get one of my son's guns. I called 911 and told him you aren't doing that in my house so my babies lose their home too and you aren't using my son's gun. He left; the cops found him and asked if I would be willing to 302 him. That means have him committed to a psych ward for saying he was going to kill himself. Well, I wouldn't do it. Doing this would make him not aloud to own a firearm, ever. He's a hunter. So, when the hard times passed, his life would still be affected forever. Besides, they can only keep him 102 hours and that is not enough time to help someone. I asked them to let me talk to him so that maybe I could talk him in to going to the hospital willingly. They couldn't let me talk to him (or wouldn't). The officer asked how I would feel if he did do it. I told him, if he could do that to his children... he was nothing more than a selfish coward!
9 days later....
After finishing up work for the day, he asked me what was wrong... I told him... We had 4 guys volunteering their time to put a roof on for us and the "man" of the house was next door asking me if I needed help cooking dinner. It was spaghetti! We argued... he tried to explain his reasoning... bottom line, he was checking up on me... I was just tired of the arguments.... day after day after day. (Just 2 days before I told him to leave... he didn't and he told me just wait till you see the chain of events that unfold if I told him to leave again. He didn't know if he would be able to take it. I didn't make him leave.) Well... again, tired of arguing... I told him these words that will haunt me forever "you may as well find someplace to sleep tonight because you aren't sleeping with me" He immediately walked out the front door, I went to my brothers to get my car keys so I could pick our daughters up. They weren't there.

As I walked through my back door to my computer where my purse was... I saw him sitting in my chair. I started to talk to him... got to the top step and realized he was sitting very low in the chair. A feeling came over me and I looked at him from the top of his head down. I knew what he did.... I ran calling 911 on the way, back to my brothers house (20 feet away) My 13 year old was there; my 17 year old was out side somewhere. I couldn't say out loud what happened but my brother knew. He grabbed the phone and ran to my house. 911 made him go back in 3 times. He had to check for a pulse, he had to make sure there wasn't anybody else in the house. He had to move Paul's body to do this. (This was my brothers 5 time dealing with suicide) Paul was more than his brother in law, he was his friend.

I was angry at Paul. I couldn't even cry... I just screamed "WHY" "HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO MY BABIES"

My boys were losing it... I had to be strong for them. We thought he used my son's gun. (Fortunately, at 3 am, I returned to the home with my 17 year old and his guns were all accounted for) Their grandparents came to get them and their bio dad left work to be with them. They loved Paul... he was more of a dad than they ever had in their own dad.
Then, it was off to the police station to have our hands swabbed for gun powder residue... (Precaution against the ignorant in-laws) The officer said he was sorry to have to ask me this, but where would I like them to take his body. WOW, I am a widow. What a mess he left me with.
My girls were now at my parents house up the street a bit. I went there, tried to close my eyes and saw him dead every time. At 36 years old, I am a widow. I then broke down. I crawled in bed with my mom and dad and cried. Finally, I said "mom, take me to the hospital. They have to give me something to calm me down. In a few hours, I have to tell my babies that they are never going to see their daddy, their hero, again.
The next day, I had to make funeral arrangements at noon. When I returned, my pastor (who we were counseling with) would come to help me tell my girls. I had to go back to my house to get clothes for me and the kids. On his nightstand, I found a framed picture of him and I with a paper taped across it that read "it was till death do us part".
I told my girls that there was a terrible accident. The gun fell over and went off. Daddy was hurt too bad and he died. I told them he was with Jesus now and that he could only be better in heaven. My littlest went off to play; the other cried herself to sleep with me.
The funeral was awful. His family snubbed me, it was very bitter. All I can say is thank God I have a large, loving family.
Funeral is over... I felt like someone took a shovel and uprooted my entire life, tossed it up in the air and said "there... now lets see you put this puzzle back together" Missing a vital piece, of course.
He not only took my babies daddy, my husband, but he also took our home. 10 years of heart and soul going in to providing a home for my children now my home was gone. The roof was off, the tarps leaked, all of our things were getting ruined. I had no where to go. I had no home. And worse yet, I didn't have my big brother next door any more. How was I going to be strong enough to put things back together for my babies? And my brother (also my best friend), he couldn't go back to his home. He said it was too dark over there... too much evil. He took his families home too.
After a day or so passed, my anger left and I hurt for the pain my husband was going through that lead to taking his own life. I know it wasn't my fault. No one person can be responsible for another taking their life. He faced a lot of things from his life growing up, in the 6 months prior to his death. From the conditional love he received from his parents (step dad) to blaming himself for the death of his 2 week old son 16 years prior (It was a sids death, but the baby was in bed with them, he never talked to anyone about this until me in the past year) to trying to fix what he broke in our marriage.
He went out of his mind. In his right mind, he would never hurt his kids this way.
I used to believe that if you killed yourself, you would burn in hell. My views have changed. I believe that God is merciful. He has mercy on the child (which my husband was dealing with childhood issues) and also on the deranged, which he became.
During one of my frequent break downs, my mom said to me... Valerie, this may sound cruel, but why don't you get angry at him for doing this to you and your family. I said... mom, I can't. I was angry at him when he died. People (his family) were angry at him all his life. God has let me know that he's at peace now and I can't be angry at him. He suffered 36 years on this earth; I'll fix things and raise his babies with the unconditional love he never knew until he found our family.
Now... for my testimony... 4 days after his death, my brother and I sat up and talked all night. In the am... I told him what I saw when I found Paul. A bullet hole below the right ear.... I walked through the steps to finding him. He stopped me and said what side? What side did you see the hole? I told him the right side... towards the door. He said "Val, there was no hole there. That is where I checked for his pulse." I couldn't understand why they had to have a closed casket and why they said his jaw was so crushed... It was just a clean shot. I said "Tim, I don't want details... but answer this... was there a lot of blood? Should I have seen him all bloody?" He said yes, there was a lot of blood. I didn't see any blood. There is no earthly explanation to this. It was a supernatural miracle. God let me see what I needed to see to get help. God knew that I could not bear the site and be able to be strong for my babies; he knew that I would not have been strong enough to keep my sons from getting into that room. He protected me from this and put the burden on my big brother. I was able to close my eyes without fear... without the visions
In the search for a new home... the only place for rent was an apartment that my friends uncle shot himself in 16 years ago. I gave up looking. I needed 4 bedrooms with stairs (my girls wanted stairs to play on) My sister and I were at the Laundromat washing our clothes because of the mold and water leaking in my house.... when my cell phone rings. It was a local realtor, who said, listen, the house wasn't for rent because we are trying to sell it but our old house is empty and we would like to help out. 4 bedrooms, she said the only problem was that there were a lot of stairs" PROBLEM? It's a miracle! While showing the house, she apologized for the purple walls on the 3rd floor. PURPLE???? Purple is my favorite color and also my husbands favorite color. The night before he died, my brother filled his Jacuzzi tub for me and Paul and lit candles, turned the lights out, told us to go relax for a while.... the house has a Jacuzzi tub in the master bath. God provided this house for us and Paul picked it out.
At church 4 days after, through a church member, I got a word from God. It read:
"I am the Comforter, I am the Creator,
I give and I take away.
I give you peace.
I take away your strife, your anger, your sorrow.
You will have your time of mourning then I will give you the peace you need to sustain a future pleasing to me"
There are so many signs from God and I could go on and on. And I will update in the near future
The girls have had a hard time. They miss him. One keeps asking if he can come home the other understands more. We are going to support groups and have other people we are working with. The other night as we lay in bed during a thunderstorm.... the little one was afraid of the thunder. I told them that maybe it was Jesus and Daddy bowling. My 6 year old giggled and says it must be a strike, sure sounds like they are having fun. Can they hear us? Do you think we could ask them to stop because it is scaring my sister? We asked... God answered... the thunder stopped for about 10 minutes. When it started I told them... well, they figured that if you weren't going to sleep, they may as well finish their game! They went to sleep with smiles.

My heart is broken beyond repair but, I know we'll be ok; we have God on our side.

My 22 year old son Austin was a meth addict. He took his life on August 24,2006. So many treatments and times of being sober, meth is the most dangerous drug on our streets today. Meth had ahold of him and he couldn' live without it or with it any more. He was tired. Austin lost his battle with addictions.
Please visit his website.
www.austin-hesse.last-memories.com

my mother took her own life dec 3rd 1987
(this yr is the 20th anniversary)
after her marriage broke down , partially her fault and my fathers (they were both having affairs) she also had to give up 2 children for adoption when she was young (before she met my father) so she had a tough life really
i dont think shed have done it if she could have seen what a knock-on effect it would have with the rest of the family (wont go into all that now its a long story)

I never got to talk to anyone about this before. Everyone assumed it didn't affect me.
I'll start with a little backround- My Grandparents helped raise me when i was young and one of my heros is my grandfather. I'll always feel that i have a special bond with him.
Anyways... he had 4 kids- 3 boys and a girl. One of those boys is my Dad. My 2 uncles are kinda messed up. One is a drug addict (howard) the other one messes around with it some but mostly he loves his kids(rob). I love him but i feel so bad for him everyone else messes up his life. So this doesn't get confusing the uncle i like is uncle rob and the other uncle is howard. So my uncle howard is totally strung out on drugs, living with his parents, and is divorced w/ 2 kids. He decides to go live w/ my uncle rob but after staying for awhile steals all his stuff and sells it for drug money And "steals" my uncle rob's wife (who i absolutely hate, she isn't even human). They run away together leaving my uncle rob with the 4 kids and all his stuff gone. They run back to my grandparents house who protect them (they're spreading lies about my uncle rob saying he did stuff he didn't) my "aunt" finds out she's pregnant (with howards kid) and runs back to my uncle rob. My uncle howard gets totally strung out and after my uncle and dad tell him he is no longer a brother to them he hangs himself in my grandparents garage. He left a suicide note but no one will tell me what it said. My grandpa was the one to find his own son and had to cut him down and see if he was dead or not. I never really knew my uncle howard but i had to sit back and watch everything he did and put my family through. I wish he could have gotten better. I wish i had gotten to know him better. I feel terrible for my grandpa, no one should have to go through that as a parent.

my friend hung himself in october 2004, no body can understand why he did it. I wouldnt say he was a close friend, but i think about him every day. When he first died i was the shouldor for all my friends to cry on, and by the time i started to grieve all my friends had moved on. I think its the hardest thing i've ever been through. But i find comfort in the fact that he is up in heaven waiting for me

I lost my father to suicide on March 13, 2006. I will never forget that day. It is so vivid in my mind. I miss my daddy so very much. I don't understand how he could do something like this. For a while I couldn't believe it. I just knew that someone shot my daddy, because there was no way he could have done it himself. He left a note stating that his biggest regret was leaving me and my sister. If he was thinking of us right before doing this horrible thing, then why did he do it. He had to know what it would do to us. My father never gave any signs that he might be suffering somehow. We've gone over the details with a fine toothed comb. He was angry about something that weekend, and was giving my mother the silent treatment. I have done that with my hubby before, over stupid little things. I've been so angry with my husband for something stupid, to the point that I wished something bad would happen to me so that he would feel guilty about being such a dim whit. Could my father have felt that strongly about his little arguement with my mom? Or was it other things, like work, that had built up and was finally released? I know when I fight with my hubby, it's usually not really anything he did, but a compilation of many many things. I hate seeing what this tragedy has done to our family and friends. The strongest person I ever knew had given up. How can I ever go on? I'm not even half as strong as he was, and look what he did. All my life I've been told how much of my daddy I have in me. I'm so scared that I may be like him more than I want to be. I love him so very much, and I get angry with him. It's great to have this site to gather support, and hear other's stories.

http://ian-james-fosternumberonecityfan.gonetoosoon.co.uk/

about my son is posted on the gone too soon site above...my 28 year old son doused himself with petrol set alight to himself and died writhing in pain on 8th september last year. the day before he did this I begged the hospital that he was in to section him under the mental health act but they refused to listen to me saying he was absolutely fine...i knew he was far from fine im his mum. please go to this site and read about my darling son. love sheila

My cousin, born the year I was, my exact age, last July. Texas has some fucked up custody laws. Every year she had to chose between parents. There was some trouble. A confession to her Dad. A screaming match. Don't judge him, she was Daddy's little girl, she was. He kept a loaded gun in the house. He walked out to check something. She took it to a field not too far from the house. Three days later police found her body. I miss her a lot.

these stories are so sad, and yet i personally find great solace in all of your collective ability to talk about these events with such dignity, and to be able to continue to live and contribute to society, and yet also remember someone so close to you. on behalf of the DS community, i just want to say thanks for sharing. i hope we can provide support to each and everyone one of you.

My uncle was going through some extremely difficult times. He was brutally attacked by a coworker in a forklift and was very injured. His spine was injured, but not enough to paralyze him. I think that this made it worse for him. He was in such pain for years. He had to walk with a cane, he couldn't work. All he could do was sit/lay around at home. My daddy got him lots of DVDs to help keep him occupied. He also started buying from online stores. Mostly he bought guns. He even bought a gun safe in which he kept not only his guns, but him medications as well. He had to leave himself a note whenever he took them so that he wouldn't overdose. On March 10 my cousin got married and that was the last time I saw my uncle alive. I spent the entire reception with him and my aunt. My cousin, not the one who got married, was there with her loser boyfriend, but they weren't very good company. I ended up talking to my uncle most of the time. He told me a funny story about his wedding night that I later shared at his funeral. That night was the funnest I had ever had with my uncle, you see, ever since my uncle met his second wife and her kids I always felt that I wasn't good enough any more. You see I had been close to him as a child, but later on I felt that he was comparing me to his new stepdaughter. That night I felt that I finally had his approval. He was really impressed with me when he found out that I had helped my father (his older brother) change the transmission on our work van. I was thrilled. That was Saturday. Monday, as I was watching my brothers my dad called me. He told me that my uncle had shot himself. He and I both thought that he had simply accidentally shot his foot or something when he was cleaning one of his many guns. Later my dad called me again, this time in tears. He was gone. He had shot himself in the head. This was the first time I had ever even heard my father cry. For awhile I was in shock, then I made a decision, my cousin needed me. The only father she had ever known was gone. I went and packed a bunch of clothes and other such things. I packed almost all me clean clothes, all the cash I had on hand, my toiletries, and my scriptures. Oh, and my teddy bear that I have had since I was a year old. I insisted on going and nobody tried to stop me. My cousin and aunt were grateful for everything I brought, because they were not allowed in their house. They were staying next door. I lent some of my jammies to my cousin and lent Ted to her for some comfort. My presence in the bed seemed to help comfort her so that she could get some sleep. we later found out that my uncle had likely hurt himself and ended up taking too many painkillers. I think that it was over thirty oxycotton that were found in his stomach. (I think that is what it is called. It is a derivative of maharajah that I honestly blame for his death.) My family is still adjusting to life without my uncle, but my father and I both take comfort in the fact that I was able to spend that extra time with him. I still miss him, and I often dream about him, but time is supposed to heal all wounds. Let's hope it does.

I have posted my story on my profile, it's quite long, but my Mom ended her life in 1977 (sorry for the "New Members" typo, which said 1973. That's the year I was born actually.