When we lose someone we love to suicide, it is very natural to have questions. Sometimes those questions come straight away, while others may appear much later, perhaps when a particular memory comes back or when something happens that reminds us of the person we miss.
As a psychologist, and as someone who has experienced suicide loss within my own family, I know how powerful this need to understand can be. We want to make sense of what has happened, particularly when there is so much that feels impossible to make sense of. Our minds naturally search for an explanation, something that might help us understand why this happened and whether there was anything we could have done differently.
For many people, this can lead to an endless cycle of looking back, remembering conversations, reading old messages and trying to understand moments that seemed ordinary at the time.
You may find yourself asking, Why didn’t I know? What did I miss? Could I have done something differently? Why didn’t they tell me?
These are deeply painful questions, and they can bring with them an enormous amount of guilt.
“Why didn’t I know?”
One of the most common questions people ask themselves is why they didn’t realise how much the person they loved was struggling.
You might look back at conversations and wonder whether there was something hidden in their words that you should have recognised. You may remember a particular day, a message or a conversation and suddenly see it differently because you now know what happened afterwards.
It is important to remember that you are looking at those moments with information you did not have at the time.
Before the loss, you were living that moment without knowing what was to come. You responded to the person in front of you based on what you could see, hear and understand then. Afterwards, it is very easy for our minds to go back and search for clues because we desperately want to find something that explains what happened.
But not seeing something does not mean you didn’t care enough, weren’t close enough or failed that person.
People do not always show the depth of what they are experiencing, even to those closest to them. Sometimes they may not know how to talk about it themselves, or they may be trying very hard to appear as though everything is manageable. There can be a great deal happening internally that is simply not visible from the outside.
“Could I have prevented it?”
This can be one of the most painful questions of all.
You might think about the last time you spoke to them and wonder whether you should have stayed longer, called more often, asked another question or encouraged them to talk. You may find yourself thinking about all the little decisions you made and imagining how things might have been different if you had made another choice.
This is where grief can become particularly cruel, because hindsight gives us information that we did not have when we were actually living through those moments.
The phrase “if only” can become almost impossible to escape. If only I had called. If only I had gone round. If only I had noticed. If only I had asked.
But there is a difference between wishing we had known more and actually having known more.
You cannot respond to information that you did not have. You cannot go back and make a different decision based on something you only learned afterwards.
When I work with people following suicide loss, I often encourage them to be very gentle with themselves around this particular question. The fact that you wish you could have done more does not mean that you could have done more.
“Why didn’t they tell me?”
This question can carry a very particular kind of hurt. You may think, If they had just told me, I would have listened. I would have been there. I would have done anything I could.
You may even wonder whether their silence meant that they didn’t trust you or didn’t feel that you were someone they could turn to.
I understand why the mind goes there, but someone’s inability or unwillingness to talk about what they were experiencing does not necessarily say anything about how much they trusted or loved the people around them.
Sometimes people find it incredibly difficult to put their internal experience into words. They may feel frightened, ashamed, confused or overwhelmed, or they may simply not know how to explain something that they themselves are struggling to understand.
There may also have been moments when they seemed more themselves, laughed with you, made plans or carried on with everyday life. Those moments can be particularly difficult to reconcile afterwards, but human beings can experience very different emotions at the same time.
Someone can love you deeply and still be experiencing something that they cannot find the words to share.
“What did I miss?”
For some people, the search for answers becomes almost like detective work. They go through old messages, photographs and conversations, looking for something that might finally explain what happened.
You may find yourself asking other people what they remember, comparing what they noticed with what you noticed, or trying to piece together a timeline in your mind.
There is nothing strange about this. When something is difficult to understand, our minds naturally try to create a story that makes sense of it.
The difficulty is that there may not be one missing piece that suddenly makes everything understandable.
Human beings are complicated, and so are our internal experiences. Someone can be struggling deeply without the people around them knowing the extent of it. They may have moments of happiness, affection and connection while also carrying feelings that they keep private.
Looking back and realising that there were things you didn’t know can be incredibly painful, but it does not mean that you didn’t know the person you loved.
“Did they know how much I loved them?”
Sometimes the questions become less about what happened and more about whether the person knew how much they meant to you…
You may think about the things you said, as well as the things you didn’t say. You might remember an argument or a difficult period in your relationship and wonder whether those moments somehow overshadowed all the love that existed between you.
Relationships are never made up entirely of perfect moments. There are disagreements, misunderstandings, busy days, frustrations and times when we take each other for granted because we believe there will always be another opportunity to say what we mean.
That doesn’t erase the love that was there.
A person can be deeply loved and still experience profound emotional pain. Those two things can exist together, and understanding this can sometimes help to soften some of the guilt that follows suicide loss.
When there are no clear answers
One of the hardest things about suicide grief is accepting that you may never have all the answers you are looking for.
You may learn more over time. You may have conversations with people who knew the person well and discover things you didn’t know before. You may come to understand parts of their experience in a way that wasn’t possible at first.
And yet there may still be questions that remain unanswered.
That can be incredibly difficult, particularly when your mind feels that finding the right explanation will finally allow you to feel at peace.
Sometimes, however, the work of grief is not about finding an answer to every question. It can be about gradually learning that you can live with the questions you cannot answer, without allowing them to become a constant source of self-blame.
This does not mean that you stop caring or that you stop wondering about the person you lost. It does not mean that you are leaving them behind. It simply means that, slowly, you may begin to make space for the possibility that not everything can be understood.
The feelings that come with the questions
It is also important to remember that questions can bring many different emotions with them.
You may feel sadness, anger, guilt, confusion or even moments of relief, and sometimes you may experience several of these emotions within the same day. You might miss someone terribly while also feeling angry about what has happened. You might have beautiful memories of them alongside memories that are difficult to think about.
None of this means that you loved them any less.
Grief does not follow a neat path, and there is no particular way you are supposed to feel at any given point. What feels manageable one day may feel overwhelming the next, and a question that seemed less important for a while can suddenly become very painful again.
I think it is particularly important to be compassionate towards yourself when this happens.
Rather than judging yourself for still having questions, it can sometimes help to recognise what is underneath them. Perhaps you are looking for reassurance that you did enough. Perhaps you are trying to understand something that still feels impossible to understand. Perhaps part of you is simply longing for the person you loved and wishing you could have one more conversation with them.
These are very human responses to an experience that can leave us with an enormous amount to carry.
You do not have to have every answer before you can begin to take care of yourself. You do not have to understand everything that happened before you are allowed to have moments of peace, laughter or connection with other people.
And you do not have to stop loving or remembering someone in order to begin finding a way forward. Sometimes, finding a way forward simply means learning to hold the unanswered questions more gently, while remembering that you were a person doing your best with what you knew at the time…
Looking Back with Understanding and Compassion. A new systems prospective.
So with all those questions in mind we have produced a Model of Understanding Suicide to help give a structure to your thoughts and questions. We are currently discussing it with members of our community who have lost loved ones.
Our Egan–Davidson Model for Understanding Suicide offers a framework for thinking about the questions that can look. It considers how a person’s internal experiences, relationships, social surroundings, workplace, healthcare and wider environment can interact and change over time. It cannot tell us precisely why an individual died. It may, however, help us approach uncertainty with greater compassion.
One of its most important messages for those left behind is this:
We look backwards, knowing the ending, at a system we could never fully see forwards.
Our model explores who each of us sees only part of another person’s experience. Even a close and loving relationship does not give us access to every thought, feeling, pressure or interaction. Other people may have seen different parts, while some experiences may never have been expressed.
This also helps us think about responsibility. Being part of someone’s life is not the same as being responsible for their death. Having influence is not the same as having control.
This perspective does not require us to stop asking questions. Nor does it prevent us from seeking answers about care or decisions where there are concerns. It asks us to distinguish what we know from what we fear, wish or imagine.
Understanding may come before feelings change.
The model also makes room for continuing bonds: the connection with the person who died can remain through memories, stories, rituals and everyday moments. Caring for yourself does not require you to leave them behind. You do not need a complete explanation before you can receive support, experience connection or find moments of peace.
Over the next few blogs we will take you through the final presentation that we formulate after our latest retreat. Only those who have lost will truly feel the pain of what might have been, but we at Suicide Grief Support feel that the “SYSTEM” of their world is far too complex to do anything but look back in hindsight and wonder what if. For healing to happen we must once again look forward. Hence why we have made this model.
IF you know someone who would be helped by reading our blogs then please send them our link. Healing from Suicide Loss: Stories, Support & Coping Strategies
Love,
Sue