This is an edited version of an article that I was asked to write for the Jersey Evening Post in 2018, which was published following World Suicide Prevention Day.

It was the dauntingly titled “World Suicide Prevention Day” recently – and the theme was “working together”. The then Director of a charity called Mind Jersey, James Le Feuvre, had it absolutely right when he said recently that“there is a significant gap in the provision of support for people bereaved by suicide [in Jersey].” His suggestion of there being provision for a volunteer support worker (or, I hope, more than one) “for relatives and friends following the death by suicide of someone close to them”, came not a moment too soon.

Nine years ago now, I lost my best friend Chris. I miss him still. Sometimes it seems like it was yesterday, sometimes it feels as if it happened a lifetime ago.

The potential for those of us bereaved by suicide to be supported by someone who has also been through it, has made me think about what would really help in the days, weeks and months after the loss of someone you love in one of the most shocking ways possible.

I was very fortunate (and still am), to have family, friends and work colleagues to support me, but many people do not have this. Looking back, it would have been really helpful to have access to services such as those that MIND hopes to facilitate.

At no time will you need the support of those around you (or of a trained volunteer), more than if there is an inquest to attend.

In my experience, these are sensitively done and kindness is at the heart of getting to the facts, but they are still an intense process, often covering a number of happenings within two hours. To have someone to sit with you to help you through the experience (and then to have a cup of tea with afterwards), is invaluable.
Here’s what did help me – and here’s what I think might help you, too, if you have lost someone in this way.

1 Acknowledge the loss
Firstly, I found that it was the simple things that helped, such as receiving cards and the odd phone call from people who cared and who just said that they were there. Ditto flowers. It was these kind gestures and the time that others had taken to write a message that meant so much.

Some people find comfort in public messages of condolence; I didn’t and shut down my social media profiles for a time. I needed to be apart from others’ online opinions, especially if they were detached and critical of the situation (and some were). Do not be this person.

2 Let your friends help you.
My friends feeding me and spending time with me helped enormously – I wasn’t by myself. I went on school runs, shopping trips and drives around Jersey, anywhere they took me. It didn’t have to be anything special, I was glad of the company. The friends who invited me to stay at their house on the day that Chris died made me dinner and just listened. I am still overwhelmed by their kindness.

3 Going into work.
As the Partner who supervised me in the law firm I worked in at the time said: “I don’t care if you come in and sit under your desk, I just want to keep an eye on you.” Employers can make this an easier time for bereaved family and close friends by enabling special leave, even if only for a few days. This is not a time where you want to be begging for a day off, and you shouldn’t have to.

There also needs to be flexibility in the back to work approach. After acknowledging loss, an employer should trust the employee to use their judgement about whether they can face the office, or whether it would be better for them to complete tasks elsewhere.

I shouldn’t have to say this, but employers also need to understand that you may have to make or receive difficult calls about the situation in the workplace.

The situation is not helped by inferences that you are using time to make or receive “personal” calls. I’ll leave it there. You also don’t want to be put in the position of Explainer in Chief – “Why did he do it, then?” It’s real life, not a bad drama.

4 Not going into work.
Sometimes, it all felt too much and it was easier to work from home, or just sit in quiet. I found (and others might too), that I had lost my confidence – and concentration – for a time.
Don’t under estimate the impact that this loss will have on you or your ability to do complex pieces of work successfully. Again, if an employer is willing to be flexible, it really helps.

5 Make decisions – when you’re calm.
I decided to sell my flat and to hand my notice in at work a year after Chris had died, to experience some time out and to be further away with my memories for a while.

In other words, ask yourself what you really want to do – then go and do it. Acknowledge that whilst your own life has turned upside down, you have survived and there is no time like the present.

6 Take a career break.
Think about going away. I had a much-needed career break nine months after Chris died. Oddly, it was being away from Jersey that made me realise that he would not be coming back. It was a difficult realisation to accept, but I had to come to terms with it. Jersey is a wonderful place, but memories are everywhere and never was the need to get “off the rock” greater than then.

I found being physically separate from the place it had happened, an utter relief. On the first anniversary of losing my friend, I was on the high seas, crewing on a Tall Ship and I felt we were both free at last. I could begin to rebuild my own life, with happy memories taking the place of the sad ones.

Despite the existence of World Suicide Prevention Day and increased awareness about mental health, the sad fact remains that some of our friends and loved ones have and will take their own lives.

To anyone else who has suffered this loss, do not be ashamed of how your loved one died, nor apologise for your grief. Do not think, for one moment, that it was somehow your fault or you could have stopped it from happening.

And, to anyone who feels that they have nothing left to offer and no more life to live, I would say this: You are worthy of life, you have value, you must allow yourself to talk about your pain. And I hope you know that you are loved; more than you know.

Thank you for reading.