Dear John,
What happens when you do something that you can’t get forgiveness for? My husband committed suicide two years, three months and four days ago. He needed me, and I wasn’t there for him. I pushed him away — and he couldn’t hold on. I left him at the precise moment he needed me the most.
He is gone, forever gone. I’ll never see him; we’ll never speak; I can never say I’m sorry. He can never forgive me. I will live with it forever.
I asked God to forgive me, so I guess he did, right? Great. Honestly. But in this lifetime I don’t imagine I’ll ever feel any better for knowing that. I can’t go back and change things. I did not do everything I could have done. I am guilty; trust me on this one. I can’t forgive myself, so how do I ever stop suffering?
Please listen to me on this. Your husband’s suicide was not your fault — at all, in any way, ever. His taking of his own life is absolutely not your burden to bear.
That you feel otherwise is entirely natural and tragically inevitable. When a person commits suicide, they automatically sentence those they’ve left behind to a lifetime of suffering from the guilt of thinking that they could have done something, anything, to prevent it.
When the truth is there was never anything anyone could have done to prevent an adult from killing themselves. (I stress “an adult” because young people are influenced by others to a degree that typically adults are not.)
What causes a person to commit suicide has nothing to do with the world outside of themselves. Every day countless people find themselves feeling severely depressed or emotionally desperate and yet do not even think of killing themselves. The only adults who ever commit suicide are those infected with the very specific condition of being suicidal. Your husband had that unrelenting sickness within him. It’s not your fault that you don’t possess the cure for it. No one does.
You could no sooner have stopped your husband from doing what his illness ultimately drove him to do than you can stop the sun from setting. No matter how kind and loving you had been to him on that terrible day, he would have done what he did — on that day, or on a day soon after. The only chance he had of stopping himself from taking his own life was to seek the kind of psychological counseling which you must now seek for yourself. (He might have also, and even greatly, benefited from pharmaceutical therapy.) And do, please, seek that counseling. You need that assistance to help lift from your shoulders that crippling burden of guilt, which, again, and despite how I know it seems to you now, isn’t yours to be carrying at all.
You mentioned turning to God as a source of relief and solace. Please don’t let today’s commonplace deprecation of religion in any way dissuade you from fully availing yourself of what I’ll here call The Universal Good, however you might conceive of that infinite power. If you have a system of faith which has ever in the past served you well — one which you know to have at its core a truth which, as they say, surpasses all understanding — then now is the time for you to delve into that faith.
Faith isn’t for the good times; no one cries out for the succor of God when everything’s already going their way. It’s when this world has collapsed down upon us that we need something beyond this world. If you have a faith system which can connect you with the The Big Power Beyond, take a moment or two to situate yourself at the very wellspring of that system’s spiritual essence — and then stay there. Be still there. Let that healing force talk to you, soothe you, nurture you, heal you.
Also, open your heart to the spirit and soul of your husband. In meditation or in prayer, call to him, find him, commune with him. When your consciousness is again with his, tell him how crushingly sorry you are that you didn’t save him. Tell him how it pains you every single day to think of him suffering as he must have been. Tell him how joyful you are that he suffers no more. Tell him how much you love him, and miss him, and cannot wait to be with him again.
Ask him to forgive you for not doing more to help him. I don’t know a lot about a lot, but I’m sure of one thing: He will. Because he knows that what he did to himself was never your fault. And I promise you that he wants you to know that every bit as desperately as you want to know it yourself.
My novel, Everywhere She's Not, is now available wherever books are sold.
It’s not easy to tell a story that is filled with hilarious humor, the pangs of love lost, excruciatingly sad family life and deep, deep inner circumspection that ultimately uplifts your soul, but John has done just that. I highly recommend you read this book; you will thank me later. — Jon Mayes, Advance Reading Copy.
Deeply engrossing . . . a hightly satisfying reading experience . . . Shore's writing is so stylistically on target that the language itself falls away, allowing the reader to enter into the subtleties of the story completely. . . . Shore’s protagonist is authentically funny and rawly sympathetic . . . This novel stands apart for its originality. It is a testament to the notion that the strongest works are often those with simple storylines, exceptionally told. 10 out of 10. — Publisher's Weekly BookLife Prize 2019
A powerfully compelling introspective look at life. . . This is a harrowing and fascinating novel. — K.C. Finn, for Readers' Favorite
I also lost my husband to suicide in May of this year. We were going through a tough time in our marriage due to his infidelity and drug use. I moved out with our then 7 month old daughter and was trying to rebuild my life after 10 years of marriage. He was my only love and I felt betrayed and hurt. I pushed him away when I knew he had suicidal thoughts as he had attempted before, I never kept our daughter away from him I wanted him to spend more time with her because I thought it might help him, give him a purpose you know, to keep fighting. I remember the last time I saw him I told him not to do anything “stupid ” and those last words haunt my every day and night. I just think if only I had given him another chance like he asked me to or gone to couples counseling like he asked, maybe I could have stopped him from his final act. I feel so responsible for all the hurt this has caused the family and the reason why our daughter no longer has her dad. He sought out help through the mental health system but I don’t think he got the right help just pills that he took on and off. I don’t blame anyone but I wish I had done more to help him, I would do anything to go back in time but I know it’s not possible. I just hope to be a good mum to our daughter but I struggle everyday. I feel like people think I don’t have the right to grieve because we were separated but it doesn’t change how I feel we spent the last 15 years together and I just miss him so much. So I guess I want to say thank you for your post, it made me feel less alone, isolated in my grief knowing people have gone through something similar. I do want to get support but I just don’t know where to start, I’ve looked in my local area but there isn’t a lot around and Tbh I don’t know if I’m ready to share at this point.
My husband committed suicide on May 23rd this year and I felt and sometimes still feel exactly the same way as this woman does. I blame myself for not being more patient, more kind or just being there for him when he needed me most. He has been a life long alcoholic and had recently had surgery which kept him out of work for 8+ months. His drinking got worse during that time, it affected us both financially and emotionally. I kicked him out of the house and had every intention of ending our marriage. He went to rehab and when he came home expected everything to be fine, which was not the case. I was so mad at him for all the damage he had done over the last 16 years, I just could not forgive him or give him anymore chances. I did start to see someone and that drove him over the edge or at least I feel like it did. I do understand how she could feel it was her fault, I feel that every single day. I do see a therapist and am trying to make sense of the whole situation. I also have “friends” that think it’s my fault as well. I just want the pain to stop, but it never will. I hate him for doing this to me and our family and our daughter and then at the same time I love and miss him every single day. Thank for the article, it is helpful to know others are going through the same things
Oh, that’s such a deep, recent wound, Kim. I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through this–we all are. It’s not your fault, of course: your husband–whether he meant to or not, whether he could stop himself or not–trashed your life by trashing his own.
Again, though: that’s not your fault. You were REACTING, not instigating. You were responding, not causing.
You were just doing the best you could to handle a situation no human being is capable of “handling.” When bombs are being dropped on your house, there’s no sound way to cope. ALL you can do is scream and panic and hide and cry and pray that it stops.
Your husband bombed the fuck out of your life–and then left you behind to clean it up. And you are; and you will. But that’s all on him. Every single solitary, sorry bit of that is on him.
My husband shot himself July 25th, survived 4 days in the hospital, 2 of which we thought he would make it. He died July 29th. We were separated at the time due to his 3rd relapse. I was standing my ground and not asking him to come home because I wanted him to get help for his depression. I thought he was finally getting help, we talked every week and he came home and stayed some. I then found out he wasn’t getting help, so I got angry at him. Then I found out he was telling people I was the one with the problem and not good for his sobriety….He wouldn’t admit he had a problem, or go get help. When we separated the 1st of May, my oldest son was working with him and they were getting really close, he was about to start calling my husband dad. Then my husband relapsed, got my son fired and said some really hurtful things about me while he was drunk. When he was sober and healthy, he was a wonderful man and step-father, would give you the shirt off of his back. I loved him so much. Well on July 9th my sons girlfriend/fiancé of 3 years took her life. My husband was drunk sending messages during her memorial and I was ugly to him and send him a hate message back saying he was the most selfish person I have ever met, he destroyed our family and chose alcohol over us, broke my sons heart, he lost his job, his step dad and now his fiancé. I think my husband did what he did on the 25th because of me and my words and the guilt and shame I made him feel. I knew he was spiraling and I couldn’t help him, or save him. I should of responded more in love, tried more to help him, been nicer, maybe had him committed so he would get help. I never thought he would do this. My heart is broken, that is an understatement. It is my fault and I don’t know how to live with it.
I lost my husband 7 months ago and the pain is unbearable we had a fight the night before due to his drinking and not working and I feel it’s all my fault if only I hadn’t got angry at him. He is my soul mate my beast friend and now his gone. I have been blamed very harshly from his family and I feel like I’m slowly getting closer to joining my husband. I have started cutting his name into my arms because I feel I deserve to feel pain. I’m lost and alone I just want my husband back with me
Sarah: If you’d like to email me privately, please do. john@johnshore.com
I am someone who deals with suicidal ideation every day.
Suicide has a great deal to do with the outside world around me, as I feel totally and utterly disconnected from it. It’s like perpetually looking into a candy store, seeing all the happy others, and not being able or allowed or capable of joining in. It’s an abyss, a maelstrom which sucks you down into this deep blackness, the depths of which feel like are so far removed from “normality” that I don’t even have energy to try and be motivated to leave. I feel lost, without even a connection to God.
I’m in group and individual therapy, but I can’t do meds because I have to work. Therapy is nice, but it’s not a long-term solution. At best it’s a stop-gap to keep me from spilling over into active planning again.
Again, I’m not psychic; I can only talk about me and my experiences. This lady, however, was nowhere near being at fault for her husband’s actions. He made a choice, for reasons which made sense to him. It’s not what most people would describe as a rational process or a logical decision tree. Viewed abstractly in a moment of “clarity”, even I would acknowledge the absurdity of my rationale. In the depths of a depressive episode, though, it doesn’t matter; all one is trying to do its make it all stop.
I deeply appreciate this perspective. Thank you, Josh.
Dear John, dear commentors, I really hope that no one takes this as an attack or criticism. It is not intended to be. I just want to provide a counterpoint aimed specifically at anyone reading this who is currently struggling with suicidal thoughts, whether contributed to by the suicide of a loved one or otherwise. First I want to say I agree with the article. It is correct and compassionate and 100% the right answer to the letter and situation to which it responded. The suicide of this precious woman’s husband WAS NOT HER FAULT. And if someone close to you has done the same, it is not your fault.
However, there were a couple of lines in there that made my heart sink and that I felt I have to respond to here, for the sake of anyone who’s on the other side of this awful situation. The lines that bothered me were:
“The only adults who ever commit suicide are those infected with the very specific condition of being suicidal. Your husband had that unrelenting sickness within him. It’s not your fault that you don’t possess the cure for it. No one does.
You could no sooner have stopped your husband from doing what his illness ultimately drove him to do than you can stop the sun from setting. No matter how kind and loving you had been to him on that terrible day, he would have done what he did — on that day, or on a day soon after.”
These words are terrifying to a person who is currently troubled with suicidal urges. They suggest that the condition of being suicidal is permanent, that if you feel you want to commit suicide, that means you have an “infection”, that it’s an “unrelenting sickness” without a cure, and that you are fated to feel that way until you actually do it. That you can’t escape it any more than you can outrun the sunset. This is not true.
Of course, the article goes straight on to qualify these words, with the completely correct advice to get therapy and antidepressants, but someone who is currently in that dark place will only see the lines that terrified me. And the impression that they give is not true. In fact, nine out of ten people who survive a suicide attempt do not go on to die by suicide at a later date. (Source: https://www.hsph.harvard.edu/means-matter/means-matter/survival/). And the duration of a suicidal crisis is often only minutes to hours long. (Source: https://www.hsph.harvard.edu/means-matter/means-matter/duration/). Thank you so much for both these sources to #soldier Eriskegal, wherever you are.
If a grieving wife were writing in to say she believed it was her fault that her husband had died in a traffic accident, because if she had made him be a minute earlier or later that morning it wouldn’t have happened, would you say it wasn’t her fault because he would inevitably have died in a traffic accident later that day or soon after? No. Does that mean it actually was her fault? Of course not!
A death by suicide is the confluence of many things. Underlying depression. A trigger. Means and opportunity. A moment of crisis. But if you just hold on for a little while, that moment can pass. We can say both things at the same time. IT WAS NOT YOUR FAULT. But IT IS NOT INEVITABLE. Both can be true. Both are true. Depression lies. #fuckdepression. So much love to everyone who has lost someone. And so much love to everyone who is fighting for themselves right now. Just hold on. That worst moment will pass. (And get yourself to therapy and on antidepressants. They work.) God bless you.
Thank you for this extremely important insight, Lesley. Sorry it took me so long to put it into the kind of shape you meant it to be. (The links were just not copied correctly; and the only thing wrong with your use of the symbol-thing is that, when you want the italics to end, you have to insert this symbol: . Once I put the everywhere you wanted it, everything was good. And of course I was happy to do that little bit of work, because what you’re saying here is so important. Thanks again for writing it. Excellent.
Thank you so much for taking the time to correct my formatting, it’s exactly as I originally tried to write it. And thank you even more for your kind words.
Lesly, I also wish to thank you for your words. I feel exactly the way you do and tripped up on the same words. I am someone who lives with chronic Depression and have been suicidal. What has been helping me, I found an article that helped me realize that waiting before acting (on suicidal thought) could save my life. I also am now being well treated for the depression. I reach out when I need to and I am tending to my spiritual needs. All these things have given me extra time. It is possible to have a suicidal thought and NOT act on it.
Earlier this year I found myself in a very uinfair situation. As a result, my life as I knew it evaporated in front of my eyes and I had no control. I became desperately depressed and suicidal. I was able to get into therapy with an excellent therapist and am slowly finding my way back.
The scary thing about suicide is the more a person thinks about it, the more of a real and appropriate solution it appears. In a rational world, suicide is a permament solution to a temporary problem. In the irrational world of a deeply depressed person, suicide is not only the best solution, but the only one.
There is absolutely nothing this wife could have done. NOTHING.
I cannot imagine her loss. Her heartbreak.
Your response to her is beautiful. I pray she finds peace.
Yes, just as you so beautifully put it, Darla. Thank you.
As a survivor of suicide loss, I thank you for providing a compassionate response to this person. Your suggestion that she get help is really helpful, as suicide loss survivors are four times more likely than the general population to die by suicide themselves. I would also like to suggest an additional resource, suicide loss survivor support groups. Hearing other people’s stories and being able to share my grief, pain, and yes guilt openly has helped me tremendously. You can Google “suicide loss support group” or go to the American Federation for Suicide Prevention website to find groups near you or online. https://afsp.org/find-support/ive-lost-someone/
Yes, Andrea. Beautiful. Thank you so much for this information.
What a beautiful and compassionate response. I pray this precious woman sees it and it reaches her heart. I’m a trauma therapist and I can say without doubt part of her suffering is caused by a frozen trauma response. The horror of what she experienced, finding out how her husband had died. There is absolutely help for that, even though it feels hopeless and impossible.
Spiritual and psychological healing is her birthright and I pray she reaches out to claim it. Also, let us never bring a spirit of blame to any survivor or to any person who dies by suicide. The suffering there on all sides is unfathomable if you’ve never been there. It can only be met with with the type of response that was given here.
That’s really beautiful, Jackie. And so very, very helpful. Thank you.