Decades after losing a close friend to suicide as a teen, Rabbi Suzanne Offit reflects on that loss—and the work she now does to support healing and reduce stigma in the Jewish community.
When I was 16 years old, my dear friend, Vivian, died by suicide. She had been my friend for half my life. My mom shared the news with me. She tried to answer my many questions. She could not. After Vivian died, no one said her name again. Not her family, not our synagogue, not the community. No one mentioned Vivian again except for a few hushed tones and whispers. There were no rituals, no shiva, no communal mourning.
Fast forward many, many decades: after working as a hospital chaplain—mostly in palliative care—I was accustomed to sitting in dark and scary places with people. After COVID, I was invited by JF&CS of Greater Boston to take a deep dive into learning about suicide and caring for those grieving a suicide loss.
In almost five years I have talked with hundreds of people, heard their stories, co-facilitated support groups, and learned more and more about suicide loss and the unique grief of those left behind. And, as a rabbi, I have accompanied families dealing with a suicide loss—from death to burial, through mourning, and the long road toward healing.
Please know this: I am not working in suicide prevention nor intervention. My work is in postvention, that is, suicide loss bereavement and healing.
My work begins after the nightmare has occurred.
Two things make suicide death and grieving significantly different from other losses:
First: There are so many unanswerable questions. such as why and how. Why did she do this? How could I have not noticed? How could I have not helped? Why couldn’t she share her pain with me? These are unanswerable questions and cause distinct pain to surviving loved ones because the only one with the answers is now gone. Even notes left behind are inadequate. Questions unanswered fester into guilt, shame, frustration, isolation, sadness, anger, rage, despair, and hopelessness.
Unanswerable questions make our brains work in overdrive to create answers that are usually inaccurate and harmful to loved ones since they often take responsibility for this terrible, traumatic loss over which they have had no control.
We do know that many suicides are by those who struggle with mental health issues. That these souls are in such deep pain that they see ending their lives as the only path to relief. Some who die by suicide die from a treatment-resistant disease—all the love and all the medical care will not alleviate the distress and pain, and will not cure the ills. These do not make up all cases, but research shows that perhaps it's more than expected.
The second reason that makes a suicide loss unique and particularly traumatic is stigma. The weight of stigma on the grieving family is often incalculable. Stigma is a cultural construct—a thought pattern that we learn either directly or indirectly from those around us. Sometimes we don’t even know we hold these very strong negative ideas. Stigma causes people to hide with embarrassment, isolation, and shame.
When I tell the story of my friend Vivian, I share two tragedies—one is surely the tragic and traumatic loss of a young woman and the other is the hiding of her family. Vivian’s family hid due to the shame of stigma. Stigma also caused the lack of support and outreach from the Jewish community. I tell all the families I work with this: If all of your energy goes to hiding, you will have nothing left for healing. The family hides in isolation. The community is paralyzed! The community’s paralysis comes from three things lacking—lack of information from the family, lack of understanding in communal context, and therefore, lack of a way to process the grief and knowledge of how to mourn as a community.
I have titled my work, “Transforming the Jewish Communal Response to Suicide.” I hope you will join me to work to lift the heavy cloak of darkness covering the needs of suicide loss survivors. I implore you to become a wave of compassion and love, even when that means sitting in your own discomfort—because the mourner of a suicide loss is in unimaginable pain and needs your support.
Find Help
If you are struggling or know someone who is, please know that our community has options for you:
- Call 988 if you are in need of immediate emotional health support.
- Contact JF&CS Mental Health Connect, a free, confidential helpline for a broad array of services and support.
- Explore JF&CS's support groups for survivors of suicide loss.
- Reach out to me directly soffit@jfcsboston.org. Bereaved loved ones find me from all over the United States.