I was at work when I got the call. It was the second time and I couldn’t hold back the tears.
Aunty A had attempted suicide. Again.
A lot of thoughts go through your head when you get a call like that – grief, anger, guilt, sadness. I thought of her four kids, her five siblings (including Mum), her father and what it would have meant to them if she hadn’t been stopped. But I also knew that this suicide attempt would mean additional stress on Mum and Aunty B who were desperately trying to hold it together after the first attempt.
Aunty A had always had mental health issues and, after separating from her husband, things started going downhill. She hoped that taking her children to Queensland would ease the pain but it only made it worse – being so far away from her support system and living in the midst of the Queensland floods last year were more than she could handle.
Before that suicide attempt, she sent a goodbye text to a friend in Melbourne, who quickly called the police and my mum. The next day, Mum and Aunty B were on a plane for Queensland to bring Aunty A and the kids home. Once settled back in Melbourne, we were faced with a huge question – what do we do next?
A house of three adults quickly became a full-house of seven – my parents, myself, my aunt and three of her kids – where stress levels were high and we had little clue where to turn. Aunty A needed help we couldn’t provide and the kids (aged five, 11 and 16) had no idea how bad things were.