The girl with the tattooed arms had texted her family goodbye and thought she was ready to die.
To tell the truth, her thinking was a little foggy. She’d drunk herself past reasonable coherence because reason had only told her she was worthless, that her suffering meant nothing. She had cut herself again and again, but that pain was not erasing the deeper cuts to her psyche, the immense force of the depression that she thought she’d escaped.
But here she was. Again.
She’d gotten away. Away from the high school girl in the baggy clothes she once was, her frame frail from starving herself in hopes of becoming more attractive. Back then she wore long-sleeve thermal shirts to cover up the cuts she’d made on herself. Because she’d tried once to tell her friends, but they had experienced real death already, losing relatives to suicide and cancer. She was still alive. What did she know about suffering?
She knew she’d be blamed for thinking thoughts of suicide, and she had been. Told she did it for attention. That she was selfish. Her friends said it was her fault. Said if she continued they'd no longer be her friend and would cast her aside.
In a large house at the far end of a suburban development,just a stone’s throwfrom her childhood home, that girl had sat with her two friends, entirely isolated.
She'd beaten this once before. After trying drugs and alcohol to numb the pain, cutting to match it. Anti-depressants left her feeling blank and alone, the ultimate fear for a heavily depressed person.
So she tried sheer will instead.
She made it throughhigh school, where she was loud and filled with energy to make sure others wouldn’t hear the voice she heard constantly in her own head: “This world would be better off without me.”
In college, her safe but stifling suburb had been replaced by a sprawling city.It was new and exciting. She didn’t have her parents breathing down her neck. It was a time for self-discovery.
In time, she was only to discover how lost, scared and alone she felt in a city of hundreds of thousands.
The cutting got worse and so did the drinking. By the time she graduated she had already tried to drink herself to death numerous times, just to end the suffering she felt.
She found some ways tofight thepain.
Where she used to cut herself, she filled her arms and legs with tattoos. A quote from a song that kept her going. A Proverbs verse. A totem pole representing each of the members of her family, who she knew loved her. The imageshelpedto cover old scars and to keep her from cutting her skin again. The designs and words had meaning for her.
And when worse came to worst, and she felt like nothing, those images were beautiful art she could not bear to ruin with a blade. The totemic figures — bear, owl, frog, hawk —guarded her body even when she did not feel like protecting herself.
She's a grownup now, a working professional. And as a journalist — someone who doesn't become part of the story. She is the one who reports it.
But here she was again. At the bottom of the hole, waiting to die.
Then someone was at the door.
The scope of suicide
In Virginia, there were 1,118 suicide deaths in 2016, about 13per 100,000 people. Three times as many people die by suicide in Virginia than by homicide in 2016, according to theAmerican Foundation for Suicide Prevention.
For every suicidedeath, there are 25 attempts. Females attempt suicide three times more often than males, butmen die by suicide 3.5 times more often.
This is largely because of the means of death. Firearms account for almost 50 percent of all suicides. Of the 15 gun-related deaths in our area last year, 13 were suicides.
From 2003 to 2011, the area’s annual rate of suicidewas 17 per 100,000 people. Now, the rate is 19per 100,00 people. In 2016, Staunton saw two suicides, Waynesboro six and the county 11.
'They are not coming back'
As a child, Brooke Anderson would look for her father everywhere she went. She’d look for him in cars, on the sidewalk, in stores.
She and her mother had gone Christmas shopping on Dec. 18, 1988.
When they returned to their home inBotetourt County outside of Roanoke, her father’s things were lined up by the couch. His wallet and other items that are normally kept in his pocket were all in a row. Herfather was nowhere to be seen.
They spent a long time trying to figure out where he was. They all thought he had just wandered off.
It wasn’t until her mother looked one more time. There was a barn on the edge of the property and that’s where she saw the corner of a truck’s headlight — a vehicle Anderson’s father drove. Luckily, Anderson’s mother turned around before she saw what she knew could only be herhusbanddead in the vehicle.
Anderson, age 9,understood that her father took his life, but didn’t fully grasp that he was gone.
“I basically thought my dad had somehow faked his death because he was bipolar and he was an alcoholic and he knew he was hurting us. But, once he got better he’d come back."
After it became apparent he wasn't coming back, the guilt came on hard.
“I felt like as his child I had the biggest influence in his life. I was the biggest reason to live. Since he chose not to live, it meant that somehow I was flawed or unloveable.”
She never once blamed his death on him.
“The body doesn’t differentiate between mental and physical pain. I think my father was in a great deal of pain,” she said.
For Anderson, it’s been a lifelong journey trying to understand her father’s illnesses and find a life without shame.
“There’s grief and there’s sadness, and there’s a lot of what-ifs, but you don’t have to blame yourself,” she said.
It took her awhile to figure that out. She directed the anger at herself, and she never felt comfortable being mad at her dad in retrospect. As a child she was super close and connected to her dad. He was a source of inspiration and learning for her. He would take her to the river, where they’d spend time on wilderness skills, beingpart of nature. They had a special bond.
“He taught me all these wonderful lessons about survival, but he also taught me my biggest lesson about loss,” she said. “And that experience has also taught me my biggest lesson about healing.
“I was so fiercely loyal, and I loved my dad. It didn’t feel good to feel angry at him."
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Many people don’t know what to say to someone who’s lost someone by suicide. They bring the casseroles. They come to the service. They try to lend a helping hand. Often it’s just silence because they’re so unsure of how to approach the situation.
“There were some people who did reach out in their own way. I think that’s something important to remember. While I remember some negative interactions, what I remember the most is the people that actually showed up,” she said.
“If someone who knows someone that has had a loss, I encourage them to reach out. You don’t have to know the perfect thing to say. Your mere presence is symbolic that you’re supportive of that person. It’s OK to say, ‘I have no idea what to say or no idea what to do, but I just want to be there for you.’ That is so impactful.”
Anderson’s father wasn’t the only one she has lost to suicide. Her god-brother died by suicide at the age of 24 in 2011.
“That family was best friends with my family,” she said. “They had their first child and then my parents had me four days apart. So, when my dad died that family was a huge support for us and really reached out and tried to take good care of us. To lose someone in their family … we sort of switched places.”
Her second loss spurred Anderson to take her knowledge and story to others.
After loss, healing comes slowly
A relative, like a parent, sibling or child, of a person who has died by suicide is four to six times more likely to attempt or complete a suicide, Anderson said, citing Dr. David Brent, a psychiatrist at the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center. Anderson now serves as the loss and healing chair board member of the Virginia chapter of the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, which works to support loss survivors throughout the state.
“Any time someone dies by suicide it’s going to be devastating, but it doesn’t have to be more devastating because that person feels isolated,” she said.
Anderson carried her grief for 20 years without seeking help. It was burden she chose to carry.
“I have the lived experience of growing up having lost a parent. I spent the majority of my life blaming myself for my father’s death,” she said. “It was what I would describe as the equivalent of an emotional nuclear bomb dropping on our family.
“We stayed very loving toward one another. But our family did not talk about the suicide. As a child, I was left to my own devices to fill in the blanks. That was a huge struggle,” she added. “It really caused years of shame and blame and confusion about what had happened. ... When I went back to school the year it happened, I didn’t know any child who had lost a parent, let alone a parent that had died by suicide.”
Now, Anderson shares her story to help others.
“No one is prepared for someone to die by suicide. For me what helped was counseling, what helped was deciding that I was going to share my story, not just to help other people, but to help myself. Because carrying that secret or that shame is burdensome and if affects every aspect of your life,” she said.
Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem, she said. It was something her father felt he could not fix.
“He thought everyone would be better off without him. Without him we are not and have not been better off,” she said.
Where to turn?
Many don’t know the resources available for those who have suicidal thoughts or those who are recovering from a loss.
After losing her twin sister, Christina, in 1992, Crystal Graham of Waynesboro said, she wasn’t aware of any organizations that provided support or healing. Graham said she was only 15 when she lost her sibling.
“There were a lot of warning signs before she died. She certainly talked openly about suicide. But it just wasn’t something we thought she’d follow through with,” she said.
Her family managed to get Christina to a therapist, but to no avail. Christina asked to stop seeing the therapist and the family acquiesced.
People considering suicide use whatever means are at their disposal when they hit a crisis point, and Graham noted that her household gave her sister access to various means with which to kill herself. Locking up weapons or medication is key when you have someone in your household with dealing with suicidal thoughts or depression.
But her family had never known anyone who died by suicide, and they didn’t know where to turn to get help or get answers.
And then she was gone.
“She was my best friend,” Graham said.
A fight-or-flight impulse settled on the family.
More:Mother honors daughter through suicide prevention walk
“We had this idea that we should just move away, that we wanted to just go away and reinvent ourselves. We wanted to go somewhere where no one knew what happened to us. In the end we decided that staying closer to home was a better option, because ... we had this amazing support system of friends here.”
Even when she returned to school, Graham said, she wasn't approached by counselors at Fort Defiance High School.
“When I returned to school there were a lot of whispers and pointing. I don’t think that the students even knew what to do when I came back,” she said. “I just don’t think they knew how to deal with it. In some ways, being young gave me the ability to bounce back a little bit easier. If anything I had to grow up really fast.
“I don’t think people know what to say to those who’ve lost someone to suicide. There were people who were like, ‘Well, I’m glad she didn’t hurt you.’ They don’t understand that she was in pain, terrible pain. She had no intention of hurting anyone else, she just wanted to end the pain. That’s why she chose to die by suicide.”
Staunton holds an annual Out of the Darkness Walk, which raises money and awareness for suicide prevention work. Back in 2015, Kim Sours organized the walk for Staunton in memory of her daughter Keri Carter, who died by suicide in Sept. 2013. Carter was just 22 when she took her own life. All money that is raised during the walk goes directly back into the area. This year's event on October 21 will mark the third walk in the area.
Problem-solving 101: Don’t be a problem-solver
Graham, who serves as the area director for the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, said there are in fact a number of free resources for people, including training sessions, support groups and hotlines.
In our area, community agencies respond to an average of 10 calls a day, according to Dustin Wright, community liaison with administrative outreach at Valley Community Services Board.
Waynesboro Police Capt. Kelly Walker said they get multiple calls every day in regards to suicide.
A recognition of the pain, both in the survivors and in those who are depressed, is essential, he said.
Walker also stressednot to try to solve a person’s problems by minimizing them. One person’s pain is their own and can’t always be equated to something else. “Their situation is real to them,” he said. “We don’t attempt to downplay the situation or in any way tell them it’s not important.”
Police talk about “de-escalating” crisis situations. What they do is often nomore complex than what good friends do in times of trouble. In plain language that often just means talking to someone. This goes for both crisis situations as well asjust approaching someone you may think is struggling.
Walker said it's important to express what you see and hear from a person, and repeat what they are saying back to them. If you're talking to a stranger, as police often are, they introduce themselves and get the other person's name, so a connection is established.
“We always emphasize the positives, if they will reconsider what they’re about to do or what they’re contemplating doing,” he said.
But don’t be a problem-solver, Graham said.
“I think that’s the problem with suicide, is that people treat it like a crime and if they understood what the underlying factor to suicide is usually a mental health condition … and that they’re in pain,” Graham said. “It’s usually that they are trying to put a stop to unbearable pain.”
You can’t determine someone else’s pain. “It’s that extreme level of pain, and they’re trying to find a way to stop it. I think if people understood what’s going on in someone’s head and how they feel, and they have a better understanding of that, than they would realize that when someone dies by suicide it’s no more criminal than someone who dies by a heart attack or a car accident,” Graham said. "It’s tragic.”
Look for changes. Sometimes there aren’t warning signs and even if there are, it doesn’t mean you can prevent it.
“Getting someone's help and trusting your gut is so important,” Graham said.
“In general you’re looking for changes. Are they drinking alcohol when they weren’t before? Is there possible drug use involved? Did they used to go out with their friends a lot and now they’re declining a lot of social invitations. It’s a lot of changes that you’re really looking for.”
But don’t try to fix them, the main thing is to listen.
“Our natural inclination is if a friend is telling you about something that is going on in their life is to try to be a problem solver and try to tell them how to fix it,” Graham said. “And that’s usually not what they’re looking for. They’re usually looking for someone to sympathize with them and listen to them. I think that if we could all be better listeners that could go a long way.”
According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, among adults 18 and older, an estimated 9.3 million adults have reported having suicidal thoughts in 2015. In that same year, an estimated 2.7 million people made a plan about how they would try. An estimated 1.3 million adults 18 and older in 2015 tried to die by suicide.
The girl with the tattooed arms, today
When local law enforcement comes by to check on you, they call it a welfare check.
It typically occurs when a concerned family member or friend or neighbor makes the call when they feel a loved one is in trouble.
That night, it was my ownfamily who had sensed the urgency and called for help. When the police arrived I was still alive. My brother came the next day and urged meto get help. It would be starting all over again, I realized. But that gesture by my brother, bridging the gap and the miles, helped mefind my way.
It doesn’t go away. The thoughts. The urges. The ideas. I’d always been known as a cutter. I’ll always have depression. I just hadto learn how to live with it —and live happily.
I have learned to be happy and to embrace the day-to-day.
I also learned that not all therapy works. Therapy can come in different forms, and my form requires no medication and no dark rooms with long couches. I found my place lifting heavy weights, sweating and a community that supports me no matter what. It might sound strange that a thing like CrossFit has helped save my life, but it has. Not only has it made me healthier and stronger, but it’s allowed me to find my potential and rediscover myself.
I am not a statistic but a person with depression, who had a plan, who tried multiple times. I remember the scared girl in the large house with her clothes hanging on her, like the depression that never seemed to go away.
I found escape in drugs and alcohol because I thought I wasn’t worth it. It’s taken me years of therapy and love to find my place in life — and that’s here on Earth. My family has stood beside me and I’ve found who my true friends are. My family was the one who kept me safe, although I was afraid to confide in them. It was when I knew that no matter what they’d always love me. Despite my problems, they’d back me.
I know that I’ll always struggle with the urge to cut, with suicidal thoughts, but I am now not afraid to ask for help when I need it. I know that it’s completely normal for me to feel this way, but I'mfinding solace in other things like talking through my problems and healthy activity.
Suicide doesn’t make your problems go away. It makes you go away forever, leaving those who loved you behind, questioning everything they might have done wrong.
***
If you know anyone who is suicidal or are have suicidal thoughts, please use the resources below.
Resources
Valley Community Services Board
Main Line:
540-887-3200 or 540-943-5515
Emergency Services (24/7):
540-885-0866 or 540-943-1590
Myvalleycsb.org/
American Foundation for Suicide Prevention
Afsp.org
Suicide Prevention Lifeline
1-800-274-TALK (8255)
Suicidepreventionlifeline.org
Veterans Crisis Line
1-800-273-8255 press 1
CrisisChat.org
Crisis Text Line
CrisisTextLine.org
Text HOME to 741741
Suicide Survivors Support Group
Meets second and fourth Monday at the Staunton Augusta YMCA at 708 N. Coalter St. in Staunton
Want to learn more?
We will be hosting a forum at 6 p.m. Aug. 3 at the Staunton Public Library.Presented by the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, Talk Saves Lives is an introduction to suicide prevention is a community-based presentation that covers the general scope of suicide, the research on prevention, and what people can do to fight suicide. Attendees will learn the risk and warning signs of suicideand how together, we can help prevent it. Questions and answers section will follow.
Follow Laura Peters@peterslauraand@peterpants. You can reach her atlpeters@newsleader.com or 213-9125.
