My Story by Jeannie M Goff

On July 23, 2018, I work up to start my day like any other day, but when I went downstairs, I found my son. He had taken his own life, and in the wake of his death, my life was changed forever.

My family had known suicide, but it was never discussed and had never touched my life in this way. In that moment, I was broken. The pain was intense and in the next few days, I wondered if I would even survive. I would sort through his notebooks, pictures, belongings, talk to his friends and search relentlessly for a reason. I would find practice suicide notes, messages to friends detailing his plan and thoughts; all kept from me. My heart was broken because I thought we had a good relationship. As I struggled however, I saw my daughter and his friends struggling, and I worried that in their struggles, they might face the same fate because in my nursing training, I knew about increased suicidality among teens when a peer had taken his/her life. And suddenly my focus shifted from my life, to theirs. I couldn’t bear to lose another child and my focus was how to save their lives.

My son struggled with mental health issues his entire life. We had seen countless counselors, had trialed multiple medications and over the years I had tried to get him involved in events/activities that helped him to be feel better. I knew the struggles of trying to find mental health services for a child and a teen. In the wake of his death I felt compelled to tell his story and I prayed that everyone I told his story too would help them to realize they were not alone and that there was help. In the first few weeks after his death, we made bracelets and placed the national suicide hotline number on them to hand out to students at his high school campus. They were so popular, that other organizations reached out to me to provide them with bracelets for their students. My family participated in the high school homecoming parade to increase awareness. The same year we would follow that with our local town parade, where we would hand out cards to everyone on the route that provided hotline and text numbers incase they were in crisis through the holidays. My husband and I participated in school meetings to push for procedures to identify and help those that were struggling in the school. Each event would emotionally and mentally exhaust me to the point that I felt I couldn’t go on, but what I found was that I needed those moments. I needed to be able to shift my pain into something meaningful. I needed to know that my son did not die in vain. That in the wake of his death, others would be healed.

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My daughter would stumble onto an “Out of the Darkness walk”, shortly after my son passed away. She wanted me to go with her and told me it was to raise awareness for suicide prevention. So, I registered us, and started a team to honor my son. I called it “Walking with Christian” because I felt like that was what I was doing. It was helping me to keep his light burning… his memory from fading. And it was a huge event. We had an outpouring of support and encouragement. But more importantly, it was there that I met others like me. And for the first time, when I told my story, I had a mother look at me and tell me she understood, and suddenly, I did not feel alone.

Since that time, my husband and I have been supporters of the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. We have taken training to learn how to be more effective in the way we tell our story and have learned how to teach others to keep someone safe. I have not missed an Out of the Darkness Walk since that first walk. I have gotten involved in the community walks, participated in suicide prevention education opportunities, set up at events to offer education and resources, and now participate on our state board for the AFSP. Each event still weighs very heavy on me, but each time I hear a story about how suicide has touched someone else’s life, I know, that I am doing what I need to be doing. I believe in the organization and the mission to help provide hope and save lives. The only way to do that is to increase awareness by talking about suicide. In death, my son gave me the greatest gift, he reminded me that we all struggle, and we need to know we are not alone.