Part of me is relieved my son Charles did not tell me he was thinking of suicide back in 2015.

Why? Because I’m not sure I would have reacted appropriately.

Life with someone who is addicted can be chaotic and traumatic. So it would not have been farfetched for me to think he was trying to manipulate me into rescuing him yet again from the throes of another addiction-related crisis.

Those of us who are grieving parents and got there by living through the addiction of our loved one know what it’s like to be manipulated, stolen from, and taken advantage of. We are well aware of the disorder’s chaotic nature and how it weighs on our fragile emotions. We often default to taking it personally and brand ourselves as bad parents.

It’s hard to hear promises you are desperate to hear only to be crushed when they are lying or when they come out of rehab after spending half your savings and lapse. And I now know that the person with substance use disorder hurts even more intensely after a lapse, the shame covering them like a blanket of dense fog.

But we aren’t really disappointed as much as we are terrified. Because using again means potential death.

Those who are addicted waffle seamlessly from truth to fiction with ease

Because of the nature of addiction, self-doubt is where we parents of a child with SUD stand, questioning which way to go, what to believe, where to place the boundaries, when to edit them, and how to react. And because it’s so emotionally overwhelming, we often freeze as I did the day I got my son’s last phone call which I didn’t know was my last. I was unable to take action for fear the path taken might be the wrong one.

It turns out inaction was the wrong non-move. But who knows if another path would have had different results? It took years of effort to resolve all the regrets, what ifs and coulda woulda shouldas.

Right after his death by suicide, I dreamed up all kinds of scenarios in my head that went something like this, “If I’d known I would have rescued him!”

I admonished myself for not knowing. I was angry with him for not telling me.

I was sure I would have done the right thing had I known.

But would I have?

And what would I have done?

And there, right there is where my mind sat–frozen– because I didn’t know the next step after retrieving him. In my sleep-deprived and emotionally drained brain, it wasn’t going to come easily. (By the way, you can call 988 and ask what to do for a loved one in crisis, who to call, and where to take them.)

I know now why he didn’t want to tell me

Somewhere in his head, he thought, “Will mom think I’m just trying to manipulate her?” “Will she believe me?”

He wanted desperately to tell.

But more than that, he wanted to be believed.

Had I picked up the phone that last time after a 2-hour yelling match with a child in withdrawal complete with dramatic hangups and redials, I think he would have told me. In the end, he was willing to tell me but I was too spent to pick up that ringing phone one last time having been emotionally beaten down, and unaware he was going through withdrawal, a high-risk moment for suicide.

There was a lot I didn’t know then and it took years to sort it all out which I tackled like an obsessive private investigator.

Train-the-trainer suicide prevention training in Canada

In my training group was a woman who told me about her 14-year-old nephew who had died by suicide. He had told his parents about his thoughts of killing himself, only to be rebuffed and told he had so much to live for.

They didn’t believe him. The woman told me the parents were in agony over not reacting to direct confession when the kid was literally begging for help. While not the right response, it is a surprisingly normal response. It’s not mean or cruel, just a gross misunderstanding of the severity of a dire situation. Like many parents, it’s hard to fathom life would be so bad for a much-loved child that they would realistically be thinking of suicide.

One of the myths about suicide is that those who are telling you directly are less likely to suicide. Nothing is further from the truth. If they are telling you, act! Call 988 or a crisis line and ask, “My loved one is in suicidal crisis. What do I do next?”

So, yeah, sometimes I am relieved he did not tell me.

I may have done as those parents did, labeled it as manipulation, or said something like, “You gotta be strong.” And had he confessed and I thought he was kidding and then he died, that right there would be even harder for me to live with.

If this happened to you, please know I understand that you never wanted it to happen, you simply didn’t believe them capable of such a desperate final act.

AnneMoss Rogers

AnneMoss Rogers is a leading wellness and suicide education expert and one of the top mental health speakers and suicide prevention speakers. Known for her powerful, motivational keynotes, AnneMoss combines her personal story of loss with proven strategies to help organizations build a wellness culture that drives results and saves lives.  She speaks at conferences, workplaces, K-12 schools, and universities, delivering impactful presentations that inspire change and promote mental health awareness.
AnneMoss does this work in memory of her son, Charles, who struggled with anxiety, depression, and addiction, and died by suicide at age 20 in 2015.