Dead Serious: Breaking the Cycle of Teen Suicide
Author: Jane Mersky Leder
Publisher: Independent
Pages: 237
Genre: YA Self-Help
Book Description:
Thirty plus years after publishing the first edition of Dead Serious, this second completely revised and updated edition covers new ground: bullying, social media, LGBTQ teens, suicide prevention programs, and more. Scores of teens share their stories that are often filled with hurt, disappointment, shame--yet often hope. Written for teens, adults and educators, Dead Serious: Breaking the Cycle of Teen Suicide explores the current cultural and social landscape and how the pressure-filled lives of teens today can lead to anxiety, depression--suicide. Leder's own journey of discovery after her brother's suicide informs her goal of helping to prevent teen suicide by empowering teens who are suffering and teens who can serve as peer leaders and connectors to trusted adults. The skyrocketing number of teens who take their own lives makes Dead Serious: Breaking the Cycle of Teen Suicide more relevant and important than ever.
"Talking about suicide does not make matters worse. What makes matters worse is not talking."
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EXCERPT
CHAPTER ONE
WHEN IT’S SOMEONE YOU
Like a comet
Blazing ‘cross the evening sky
Gone too soon
Like a rainbow
Fading in the twinkling of an eye
Gone too soon
Shiny and sparkly
And splendidly bright
Here one day
Gone one night
Like the loss of sunlight
On a cloudy afternoon
Gone too soon
Like a castle
Built upon a sandy beach
Gone too soon
Like a perfect flower
That is just beyond your reach
Gone too soon
Born to amuse, to inspire, to delight
Here one day
Gone one night
Like a sunset
Dying with the rising of the moon
Gone too soon
Gone too soon
“Gone Too Soon” – Michael Jackson
Kevin’s Story
Kevin’s history book was open and sitting
upright on his desk. He couldn’t concentrate, not after last
night’s scene. He wondered whether Brad had gone straight home or
walked the streets brooding over Olivia and her new boyfriend. Never
mind. He and Brad were going to have a great summer. Camp
out on weekends. Work at the grocery down the street during the
week and make some big bucks. Maybe take a trip to the Rockies at
the end of the summer. Brad would forget all about Olivia.
He closed his
eyes. Thinking about his summer plans with Brad made him even more anxious for the school
day to end. When Kevin opened his eyes, he saw his
counselor, Ms. Davies, standing over him. “I need to talk
to you,” she said quietly. What had he
done now? He picked up his books and followed Ms. Davies into the hall. “Something
terrible has happened to Brad,” she said. “His mother found him in his car in the family
garage last night.” So, that’s
where he went. Ms. Davies took
a deep breath. “Brad is dead. He took his own life.” “He’s not dead.
We’re playing cards tonight.” “There’s a
detective in Mrs. Lyons’s office waiting to talk to you. He wants to ask you some questions.”
…
Kevin slammed the car into reverse and
screeched down the driveway. He and his parents had been
arguing all morning. His mother was worried sick that he’d “drive
off a cliff.” His dad had ordered him not to drive to the funeral
alone. They were upset. He didn’t care.
Why hadn’t Brad
talked about it? Kevin would have listened. They told each other everything. Now he
wasn’t so sure. Maybe Brad hadn’t wanted his help. Maybe he
hadn’t wanted anyone to change his mind. Kevin swiped at the tears
running down his cheeks. He wasn’t going to get all choked
up. Not again. Brad hadn’t talked to him, so why should he
care?
…
The funeral was supposed to be small, but
there were hundreds of people, people Kevin had never seen
before. He hated all the strangers. Brad would have hated them too.
He was the shy, quiet type who loved being by himself, taking
things apart and putting them back together. Why couldn’t he have
gotten his life right?
Kevin walked
closer to the casket. He could see Brad’s mom surrounded by a ring of people. She looked
so tiny. Kevin had always thought of her as much taller. He
remembered the night Brad had come home drunk. Mrs. Brogan had
told Brad what a fool he was. If he wanted to be a fool,
she’d said, he could be one on his own time. But he had better not be a
fool in front of her again or she’d knock him around the block and
back. Mrs. Brogan had seemed very tall that night.
Kevin wanted to
talk to her. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was and how, even though Brad never
touched a cigarette in front of her, he chain-smoked when he
played cards with the guys. If only he could reach out and hug her and
make everything like it had been. But he could barely remember
the last time he had hugged his own mother.
The knot in his
stomach tightened. Brad had had a few problems. Who didn’t? Olivia, his first girlfriend,
had started dating someone else. And he hadn’t been able to
decide what to do after high school. Being a cook in Miami sounded
cool. “Asshole idea,” his dad had said.
When people
started out to the parking lot, Kevin sat up, adjusted his tie, and nodded at the other
three pallbearers standing near the casket. He had never understood
funerals. His mother had told him that they make a permanent
picture in your head that the dead person is gone. He didn’t need a
funeral to do that.
…
Why had Brad taken his own life? Someone
was responsible. Not Mrs. Brogan. She had always been there
when Brad needed her. And sometimes when he didn’t. He
remembered the time, years before, when she’d marched Brad back
to the grocery store and made him admit to the checker that
he’d lied when he said the eleven pop bottles were his. What he had done was
dishonest, and Mrs. Brogan had wanted her son to accept the consequences. At
the time, Brad had hated his mom for being so principled. Later on, he realized
she’d done the right thing.
Kevin tried not
to blame Mr. Brogan, but it wasn’t easy. Brad’s father worked, slept, and drank beer. That
was it. When Brad had been younger, his dad had come to watch
him play football. But when Brad had quit the team, his dad had
been angry. “You’re just like me, only worse,” he’d said. Brad
wasn’t anything like his dad. When his dad got angry, everyone paid.
When Brad got angry, he got quiet and withdrawn. He was the only
one who paid.
…
Kevin’s best friend was dead, and there
was no reason. If he’d died from a disease or an accident . . . But he
had taken his own life. What could have been so bad? It made no
sense. If only he had known Brad was so unhappy.
If only he had seen the signs. But what signs?
Kevin
remembered the night back in seventh grade after the roller-skating party. Brad and another
friend, Dave, had decided to walk home instead of riding the bus. They
didn’t have far to go. Besides, maybe they’d stop at McDonald’s
for something to eat. As the boys approached the restaurant,
Brad challenged Dave to a race. Brad took off across Madison Street
with Dave on his heels.
They talked
about the accident only a couple of times. Brad told Kevin the car swerved to miss him but
hit Dave instead. There was nothing the paramedics could do; Dave
was dead on arrival at Good Shepherd Hospital.
Brad hadn’t
been the same after that. He had seemed to crawl into a shell. He got headaches that made
him vomit, and his skin turned white. He got pimples all over his
face. Kevin figured Brad had to work it out on his own; he didn’t
know what else to do. If only he had done something then, maybe
Brad would be alive now. If he had made him talk about it. But
Brad had said he didn’t want to talk, and Kevin hadn’t pushed.
Anyway, Brad couldn’t have taken his own life because of an accident
so many years ago. He had to have forgotten all about it.
A sharp guy
like Brad doesn’t kill himself for no good reason. That would be crazy. Brad might have been
confused, but he wasn’t crazy. Maybe his dad had finally gotten to
him. Mr. Brogan was a cop who worked the shift from three in the
afternoon to eleven at night. And on weekends, Mr. Brogan sat in
front of the TV, drinking beer and doing crossword puzzles. If he
drank too much, and he often did, he’d either fall asleep or
leave the house without telling anyone where he was going.
One night, the
phone rang late, and it was someone from the hospital telling Mrs. Brogan that her
husband had been in an accident and that she better come right away. Brad
told Kevin one side of his dad’s face looked like it had been
mashed in a blender. He was cut up so badly he stayed in the
hospital for almost a week.
“That’s not
good enough,” Kevin screamed. “You couldn’t have killed yourself because of your old man.
You could have moved out, gotten your own place with some other
guys. You go off and kill yourself without letting me know, without
letting me help. Okay. So you wanted to keep it to yourself.
Fine. Keep it all to yourself. I don’t care. Just don’t expect me to waste
my tears over you.” Tears streamed down his face.
Maybe this was
all Olivia’s fault. She and Brad broke up every other week. They broke up, then got back
together. Again and again. They went steady off and on for two
and a half years. Brad and Olivia would be going separate
ways after graduation. So why not get it over with? Brad didn’t
care. At least that’s what he said.
During a card game
with Kevin and some other guys, Brad had talked about his future. “You’re lucky,”
he’d said to Kevin. “You know what you want to do. You’ve got your art. You
want to be an artist. I’ve got nothing.” Kevin had felt uncomfortable. He’d known
Brad was having a hard time. “You’ll get it together,” he
had said.
…
Brad had made one more attempt to win
Olivia back. When that had gone south, Brad had stormed off. He’d
insisted on walking home. “Just go. Take my car and go.”
“I can’t take
your car,” Kevin said.
“Take it.” He
shoved the keys in Kevin’s hand.
“Come on, this
is nuts.” Kevin tried to give the keys back. But Brad had already turned around and begun
walking away. Frustrated, Kevin got into the car, turned
the key, and then slowly backed down the driveway. Okay, he
thought, I’ll cruise around the block a few times and stall for
time. Brad needs to cool off. After wasting several minutes, he
drove by Brad walking slowly toward home.
“Hey, jump in.
You’re crazy to walk. Besides, this is your car.”
“I want to
walk. Just park the car in the driveway and leave the keys in the mailbox.” No use arguing.
When Brad made up his mind to do something, he did it. No point in trying to stop him.
…
A month after Brad took his own life,
Kevin halfheartedly agreed to play poker with some of the guys. He
had to get out of the house. Kevin waited anxiously to see Brad again.
He had so much to tell him. He was going to art school in the
fall. The high school baseball team had taken the league championship.
Olivia and her boyfriend had broken up.
Brad never
reappeared. But Kevin thought about him a lot. Some days he thought he understood why
Brad had killed himself; other days he had no idea. He could never
remember how long it had been since Brad had died.
Sometimes it seemed like years, sometimes only a few days.
Time was
meaningless to Brad’s mom too. She and Kevin talked a lot. Every time he saw her, she
cried. Not right away. She pretended she was fine at the beginning.
Then she’d ask Kevin if he remembered a certain incident, such as
the time she’d marched Brad to the grocery store to return the
bottle money. And then she’d cry. At first, Kevin felt funny
talking about Brad. He thought the less he talked, the sooner the pain
would end. But it was just the opposite. Talking made him feel
better. Sometimes it made him laugh. More often, it made him cry.
The letting go felt good. But the searching for answers never
stopped.
Now, the knot
in Kevin’s stomach often loosens. His younger brother tells a dumb joke about the
chicken crossing the road and he laughs. The wounds are starting to
heal. And sometimes things are almost as they were. He forgets all
about Brad. The pain is gone. Then, like a ghost, it reappears.
When he’s playing baseball on a hot summer afternoon, or when he opens
a bedroom dresser drawer and finds an old shirt he once
loaned to Brad. How could he ever forget?
Reactions to Suicide
It’s been many years since I interviewed
Kevin (not his real name) about the suicide death of his best
friend. In many ways, his reactions to Brad’s death mirrored my own and those
of the majority of others who have lost a friend or family
member to suicide: the denial, the blame, the guilt, the anger,
grief, search for answers, and the healing that never goes in a
straight line.
Take a look at
the following quotes and decide which reactions
to suicide they each represent.
one:
“He’s
not dead. We’re playing cards tonight.”
two:
“ There must have been a reason Brad
killed himself.
Someone was responsible.”
three:
“ If only he had done something then,
maybe Brad would be alive now. If he had made him talk about
it. But Brad had said he didn’t want to talk, and Kevin hadn’t
pushed.”
four:
“ You go off and kill yourself without
letting me know, without letting me help. Okay. So you wanted to
keep it to yourself. Fine. Keep it all to yourself. I don’t
care. Just don’t expect me to waste my tears over you. tears streamed
down his face.”
five:
“ He wasn’t going to get all choked up.
Not again. Brad hadn’t talked to him, so why should he care?”
six:
“But the searching for answers never
stopped.”
seven:
“ The wounds are starting to heal. And
sometimes things are almost as they were. He forgets all about
Brad. The pain is gone. then, like a ghost, it reappears.”
one: Denial
When Kevin was first told that Brad had
taken his life, he refused to believe it. The truth was too hard to
bear. How could his friend do something like that? It didn’t make
sense. And it was easier to deny
that his best friend wouldn’t be at the
card game that night, or any other night, than to accept that his friend was
dead.
Denial is a
short-term defense mechanism against death— death by suicide or by any other means. “I
can’t believe that this has happened, that he won’t be around
anymore.”
two: Blame
Kevin did his best to find someone to
blame for Brad’s death: Maybe it was Mr. Brogan, Brad’s father. He
hadn’t been the most supportive of dads. Or maybe it was the
friend who was hit by a car
in front of Brad and later died. Then
there was Olivia, who broke up with Brad and broke his heart. Or maybe
it was Brad himself; he didn’t have a clue what he wanted to do
after graduation.
Truth is there is never one reason why
someone takes his/her own life. And never just one person to
blame.
three: Guilt
Friends of those who have taken their own
lives, such as Kevin, feel they could have prevented the suicide if
only they had known how unhappy their friend was. In some cases,
they did know their friend was suicidal but didn’t tell anyone,
probably because they were sworn to secrecy. Secrecy is never an
option. If you sense or know that a friend is severely depressed, find
a trusted adult who can
help your friend get the professional help
needed. Better to break a friend’s confidence than to lose him
forever.
four: anger
Anger is part of the grieving process. We
usually get angry when feeling hopeless, helpless. You get angry
at the friend who took his life. Angry at the fact that he didn’t
bother to talk to you about his
problems, that he didn’t even say
good-bye. Angry at yourself for not seeing the writing on the wall. While
anger is a natural reaction to suicide (to any painful loss), it eases
over time. Most often, the anger morphs into sadness and
forgiveness.
five: Grief
Everyone reacts differently to suicide.
Some people scream and cry. Others, like Kevin, try not to get
emotional but waver back and forth. But sooner or later, they’re
forced to accept the truth: a friend is dead, and the death was not a
mistake.
There are no
right or wrong ways to grieve. You can take all the time you need, even when people say things
like, “Well, you’ve got your life back on track, right?” or
something more direct: “It’s time
to stop feeling sorry for yourself.” Life
is not a TV show in which characters “get over it” in thirty minutes
to an hour. It takes time to grieve. For many, the pain never goes
away; it becomes a dull ache.
six: Search for Answers
For Kevin and everyone who has lost
someone to suicide, the search for answers can be confounding. If
someone dies in an auto accident, there is a cause, a reason. If
someone dies from a disease
like cancer, there is a reason. If someone
dies of old age, the death is understandable. But suicide? There are
only guesses as to why.
Some survivors,
like me, find comfort in talking to everyone who knew the person who took his life in
an attempt to find clues or, in some cases, to find support. The
act of doing something can be helpful. I wrote a book. Now I’m
writing a second one. I’ve learned a lot about my brother and about
the way other people remembered him. But after all these years,
I still have many questions
that will never be answered.
But I’m still
certain that my brother visited me after he died. I know I wasn’t crazy when, a few days after
my brother’s funeral, he appeared in my bedroom in the middle of
the night. I sat up and turned on the light, and there he
was—dressed not in some white, angel-like getup but in a pair of faded
jeans and a work shirt. I was terrified and had no idea what to do or
say. For three nights, my brother showed up after dark. On the third
night, I managed to tell him how much I loved and missed him
but that I understood he’d made a decision to move on to
whatever was next. He nodded, turned, and walked through my closet.
I’ve retold
this story many times. And more often than not, people look at me like I’m crazy. They
think I’ve gone off the deep end with grief. But I know what I saw was
real. I know that my brother needed my permission to leave this
earth plane and that, as his older, beloved sister, he’d come to
me to cut the cord.
seven: Healing Never Goes in a Straight
Line
There are days—even weeks or more—when the
grieving stops. Your life goes on. Then you hear a song or
see an old friend or attend a family event, and the pain
returns. Usually, the grief doesn’t last as long as it used to. The
truth is: it never goes away forever but leaves a dull ache that comes
and goes.
Strategies:
Resources
If you know someone who has died by
suicide and feel that you need help or information, contact any of
the following people or organizations near you:
• Local support group – You can use
support group directories from, among others, the American
Foundation for Suicide Prevention
(Afsp.org/find-support/ive-lost-someone/find-asupport- group) and Suicide.org (Suicide.org/suicide-supportgroups. html).
• School counselor or teacher whom you
trust
• Private counselors – Ask your school
counselor or doctor for recommendations.
About the Author
Jane Mersky Leder was born in Detroit, Michigan. The "Motor City" and original home of Motown have driven her writing from the start. A "Baby Boomer" who came of age in the Sixties, Leder is fascinated by the complexities of relationships between generations, between genders, and between our personal and public personas.
Dead Serious, a book about teen suicide, was named a YASD Best Book for Young Adults.
The second edition of Dead Serious (with a new subtitle): Breaking the Cycle of Teen Suicide, will be published on January 23, 2018, and will be available as both an ebook and paperback on major online book sites, at libraries, and at select bookstores.
The Sibling Connection: How Siblings Shape Our Lives, and Thanks For The Memories: Love, Sex, and World War II are among Leder’s other books.
Leder’s feature articles have appeared in numerous publications, including American Heritage, Psychology Today, and Woman’s Day.
She currently spends her time in Evanston, Illinois, and San Miguel de Allende, Mexico.
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