DH committed suicide on Saturday, rang Samaritans, not helped.

[RubbishMantra]

Anyone there? I 'm a bit done in. We'd been married less than 2 years. I got him a dollar bill folded into an origami carp for our 1st anniversary. He hanged himself. We didn't have DCs, but we have 2 beautiful cats. Sister flying in tomorrow. I don't know how he could leave me and our 2 little lads (cats)

And you wonder why I'm not a cat person ;-)

[ name changing non cat person who protests too much ]

Hope you got some sleep eventually

I find flea combing a cat very therapeutic. Flea comb, bowl of water and washing-up liquid, comb while singing: "Drown them, drown them, drown them, drown them once for all", to the tune of a well known hymn.

I hate fleas. My own cat had them once so, despite being an indoor boy, he still has regular treatments.

He used to suck his tail by the way - I suspect that your plait is actually your tail to him, Mantra. It's partly a comfort activity but also a sort of 'thing' that they seem to get, allied with grooming.

I love the idea of a plait tail! I bet that's exactly how he sees it!

Grewellypoo has a trouble-seeking tail. If there is a cup of tea, a bowl of soup, cereal, a plate of dinner, he will somehow turn himself around so close to it that the tail inevitably ends up in the middle. I can't tell you how many times a glass of water has gone flying. And then he looks at me like 'Why ON EARTH did you throw that on the floor! You scared me!'

Thinking of you, Mantra.

Thinking of you this afternoon.

Hope you had a reasonable day.

Hi Mantra I hope you don't mind, but I've been reading your thread over the past few days and wanted to say I'm thinking of you and sending you and your cute fur babies comforting hugs.....

My own DH attempted suicide eight years ago. Thankfully he was unsuccessful in his attempt, but the effect on his family (me, our DS, DH's dad and his siblings) was nonetheless devastating. Throughout it all my parents behaved like Toilet Seat Parents. They actually accused him of pretending to take his own life.

Despite everything he did for them - he has always been the perfect son-in-law and as I'm an only child who doesn't drive he was always there to ferry them to appointments etc, taking time off work to do so as well as doing DIY jobs around their house - they called my darling, hardworking, unselfish DH an arsehole and said he had an attitude problem. FFS, when my dad became ill and incontinent DH even changed his 'nappy'......even I couldn't have done that.

Anyway, I just wanted to say I agree that the time has come to say "fuck you" to the TSPs and let them stew in their own self-centred juice!

xxx

Been feeling a bit insular and reflective after my first SoBS meeting. Even when I don't reply to posts, I read them, and believe me, they've given me shards of warmth in otherwise bleak days.

I wondered if your boy might be a tail-sucker Cozie, certain breeds of cats are more predisposed to it. MCat's a garden variety mog though. Little M likes to furiously rip the fur out of my Uggs to eat though. It's called pica, isn't it.

I love the thought of you softly humming whilst calmly combing out the fleas Dutchoma

Like Grewellypoo, Little Monsieur has trouble seeking appendages, but in the form of his front paws. If I'm not paying him enough attention, he marches about, poking and nudging things onto the floor. Preferably things with liquid in.

I'm sorry you too have TSPs, Raphaella. Crap innit? I'm so glad your DH was unsuccessful in his suicide attempt, and is still with you. How did he feel afterwards?

Did actually have a fairly decent day, except when I caught sight of a photo of DLH, which caught me off guard, had a bit of a "why?" moment, why didn't he tell me, why didn't he just hang on until the next day to see how he felt then. I know rationally why, he'd probably been hanging on for God knows how long, and then I think about what pain he must have been in. Then I wonder why he didn't feel able to tell me how he was feeling. I knew he was in an angsty, paranoid place, but not once did he indicate anything that made me think he'd take his own life...Yet with hindsight, some of the things he said, in the weeks leading up to his death, fit into place now. I just wish he's given me a chance, that's one thing I can do see, is listen. But no, I didn't listen well enough. And people keep saying it was his choice, and I know all the facts, but I just wish I'd been able to do something. Then it all comes back to my selfish thoughts of how could he leave me.

Achh. I didn't want to get into this but it looks as if you still need to think more about it. I was reading, coincidentally, about suicidal impulsivity the other evening (it was actually a piece about gun control in the US) and it was clear that as far as they can determine, about a quarter of people who take their own lives decide to do so in under 5 minutes and mainly because the apparent means suddenly present themselves. There are other figures available as well - although I concede that there is more than one interpretation of them.

Yes he had the illness and at the last, it took over him. That doesn't mean that the thoughts were was going on for weeks though and neither does it mean (Dear Goodness, how could it?) that you didn't listen 'well enough'. You loved each other so deeply - how could it mean that?

What you say about impulsivity makes sense - everything DLH used to end his life were already there in the cellar. He didn't take them with him. Even the stanley knife, used to cut the nylon tape off the boxes was already down there. He didn't go into that place, intending to end his life. So wtf happened in those minutes?

He said several times in the last couple of weeks "you'll always have this house (we bought it together) and the boys (MCat and Little M)". And I just said, "And so do you, my love, this is our home, and these are our boys." He was obviously trying to tell me how bad things were, but I didn't push him strongly enough to tell me what he meant. I wish I'd have just sat him down and said "right, you either tell me wtf's going on in your head, so I can help you, or you're having a stay in hospital". I could have made him go, even if I had to use threats and manipulation. But I hadn't even the tiniest inkling he was going to do what he did - until it was too late, with the benefit of hindsight.

But in those last weeks, I tried to patiently enquire about what was going on for him - maybe too gently. At times I got frustrated with his refusal of help, and even shouty at times. Maybe I should have taken a more formidable stance. He told me hospital would make things worse, and I believed him. The day he went to his parents was another such day when I was trying to convince him to engage with the mental health team, and I became so frustrated with him, so asked him to stay with his parents to "give us both some respite." He wanted to go out to get drunk, which stop his meds from working. I thought he'd be safer there, with them, in the middle of nowhere. I just wish I knew what was going through his mind, how he felt, then I wouldn't have sent him away. On top of the MH stuff, he also very much maintained a very British stiff upper lip. And it must have all been swirling and boiling away inside him.

I just want to know why really. What was the actual and final trigger? Sometimes, and this probably sounds really messed up, but sometimes it feels as if he did it as a massive "fuck you Mantra, I wanted to go out on the lash and you made me go to my parents instead, I'll show you!"

Mantra - I haven't really got a lot of experience of it, but I used to suffer from occasional bouts of depression, when the world was blacker than black - once I got past young teens, the suicidal thoughts regressed but I can tell you that sometimes the depression would hit so hard and fast that I would be incapacitated in a moment.

Once I was standing on the piano stool in the middle of my parents' dining room - I have no idea what set it off but I was suddenly completely broken, so much so that I couldn't even get off the fucking stool, my Dad had to come and help me down. It was fast, and it was hard - and it came from nowhere.

All I can think is that something similar would have happened to your DLH - he may have gone down to the cellar for something completely innocuous, and just been hit suddenly by a wave of pain; or he might have been wandering disconsolately around the house going "what the fuck is it all about anyway?" before finding his way down to the cellar. What he WON'T have been doing is thinking about you in any negative fashion. His illness had taken him over completely at that point and was doing all the "thinking" for him - it's times like this that I think I understand where the idea of "demonic possession" came from, because it is like devils inside your head telling you to do stuff that normally you would never consider in the cold, sane light of day.

The negativity that you're suffering though, is all part of the anger. It will go whenever you reach acceptance, however long that takes (varies enormously) but until then the questions are going to keep coming back.

((((hugs)))) and as always. x

for you, Thumb. I for one am glad you're here to talk to us. Those are some powerful insights that you gave us, so Thanks.

I don't think you can ever know 'why', Mantra - and that's part of why it's such a savage grief for you. His illness took over at the last and acted in the way it did and that is pretty well all you can know.

It's a little like trying to deal with a ravening tiger, snarling and roaring at you. You can't reason with it, you can't show love and compassion - there's simply no thought, feeling or understanding there. It only acts.

I hope you manaaged a little sleep.

Mantra - remember those women in labour who think about killing themselves ? They are not trying to punish the man who got them pregnant . They are not even mentally ill . But in their agony , they lose sight of their partner, other kids and unborn child. It's just that immediate , overwhelming urge to do something , anything , to stop the pain.

When you are in that much pain, you can't think of anything or anyone else . The mental agony totally blocks out the thinking, intelligent part of the mind that says

Maybe I should wait a day or two until my meds kick in
Oh no, what will this do to my beloved mantra
What will happen to my cat
Maybe if I talk to someone , they can help me

You already know why he did it - because he was so ill . It wasn't about you. It's not your fault and there's nothing you could have done .

It wasn't his fault either. It was the bastard illness .

Thinking of you this evening.

Thank you Thumb, thank you. What you've written is helping me to gain some kind of understanding into all of this. I know I can't change anything, but it makes it better for me if I can understand. And he had been doing a lot of aimless wandering during the last weeks of his life, so it makes sense that he found himself in the place he died. The trunk he stepped off even bore his name as it belonged to one of his ancestors, so maybe in that moment, everything made sense to him.

Bit teary today, I had a word with myself about the TSPs, and I think I may have been using my anger towards them to distract myself from the grieving process for my beautiful, generous spirited, kind and gentle DLH.

What you wrote about the women in labour Leeza, I haven't forgotten it. That stayed with me. I cannot even begin to imagine what it must feel like to just want the pain to stop.

And cozie, I have been sleeping better, at slightly odd times. It's comforting to know I'm in your thoughts. I even indulged myself in Supreme Beans on sour dough toast with crispy bacon. Supreme Beans elevate the simple baked bean to a whole other layer of, well, supremacy!

Supreme beans

Sautee about 4/5 chopped shallots in an ounce (YES, an ounce!) of butter, with a good dose of black pepper, until soft and caramelised. Add baked beans, thyme, pinch of sugar, pinch of salt. Fill up bean tin with water, add to beans. (sometimes if in the mood, i put in half a bayleaf) Cover and simmer r e a l l y slowly, until they've reduced to just a tad looser than the usual baked bean consistency, (1-2 hours?), adding more water if necessary. Then gently stir in a little splash of double cream, just before the big munch.

Best served on some good, thick crusty buttered toast, streaky bacon optional. Bit of rough chopped parsley.

I know it's a bit odd of me to post a recipe on a bereavement thread. DLH did love the Supreme Beans though, so this recipe (if you can call it that) is a thank you, from DLH and me.

Hi, Mantra, I'm still here reading you and thinking of you regularly. Often moved to tears by your posts but have nothing helpful to reply to you. Now though, I would just like to give you and DLH a heartfelt thank you for your Supreme Beans recipe, which will be coming to a kitchen near me shortly! I think a bereavement thread is an eminently suitable place for such farting around

Goodness - never hint an apology for using butter! Cozietowers is a full-fat sort of place and always has been. (In fact, before I moved mainly to internet shopping, I'm sure that local supermarkets were full of parents drawing their toddlers closer to them as this figure moved past them in the aisle muttering 'Flipping Lo-fat, flipping Lo-sugar....flipping Lo-fat, flipping Lo-sugar.......' )

Full fat natural substances here too - butter is a staple of our diet! It's very good for you, you know - full of vit D, vit A, and if it's from pukka grass-fed cows, which, to be fair, most UK dairy cows are (they're not in the USA) then it's also a good source of vit K2, menaquinone, which activates a protein called osteocalcin - the job of this protein is to place calcium where it belongs, in the bones, and keep it away from places it doesn't belong, such as atheromatous plaques in the blood vessels. So in fact, butter is FAR BETTER FOR US than any of those shitty low fat plastic spreads.

This is music to my ears thumb witch . How do you know all this useful information ?

< files away with supreme bean recipe, how to de flea a cat and delouse a fish >

Beans sound heaven M. I had an egg sandwich for lunch - it was egg and ham but Mr C ripped the ham out of it with his claw as I was lifting it to my starved mouth. Still sleeping it off.

Amazing what a person can glean from a bereavement thread, eh?

MCat also passionately loves ham. One day, he very delicately flipped the bread off a ham and cheese, and carefully and precisely extricated the ham, to be eaten under the table.

Having better days now. helped by not engaging with the tsps

A gratuitous photograph of Little Monsieur. He just looked so handsome, and noble like, I had to take a snap of him.

You lot should be recognising your lowly status the inevitable. I, for example, just give Seniorboy a small dish of ham chopped 'au point' if I want a ham sandwich. It saves a whole load of angst.

Not engaging with the TSPs helps? Hah! You don't surprise me.

Leeza - combination of a food-related degree and teaching nutrition on a different degree

LM is very uppercrust in that photo, isn't he? He's probably just done something dastardly and is pretending it wasn't him...