This story comes from a bereaved mom who shares her love, loss, and survival.

Dumbstruck by my son Dustin's death

by Janis D. Matthews

Me (Janis) and Dustin, 3 years old

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Dustin, 7 years old

Dustin

My son Dustin John Matthews was born June 18th, 1974, and died March 10th, 2006.  He was 31 when he died.  He was born packed with energy - every cell radiated with life and joy, and he grew into a loving and compassionate person.  He was extremely strong-willed, extremely sure of himself, and able to focus and excel at whatever he was interested in.  We had a wonderful, open, loving relationship.  It turned out that he had many problems that he didn’t share with my husband and I.  He did not ask for help. 

The Friday morning, Dustin was found to be missing, I got to work, and there was a message light on my phone.  I had three messages, and they were all from him.  He had left them the evening before.  As I listened, I could see the date and time the messages were left on the phone’s display.  I could tell he was driving by the sounds in the background.  These messages were essentially his "suicide note."  I was totally frozen, hardly breathing, not allowing any distractions, hoping that the second or third message would be a "change of heart" message.  All the time I was listening, I knew that I needed to call 911, and I also knew that I was listening to these messages about 12 hours after he left them.  When the messages finally ended, I called 911, and then I called my husband.

I was blessed by the presence of a co-worker who stayed silently by my side during this time.  My husband, Audie, left work immediately, went to Dustin's apartment, and was met there by the Raleigh police.  A “Be On the Lookout” order was initiated statewide immediately as Dustin had one previous "violence to self" episode several months before.  That was a drug-related incident, and he claimed to be "out-of-his-mind" when it happened.  Dustin was very determined to handle that problem on his own.

We were dumbstruck by his death.  Our family and Dustin's friends helped us as best they could that first week, but we were really beyond help.  I've heard this described in the Survivors of Suicide (SOS) meetings that we attended in Raleigh as "one day, you are walking down the street, and as you turn a corner, you are hit ‘full-force’ by a truck that you never saw coming.”  Physically, that is what the impact felt like.  It was a complete devastation.  The world as I had known it was completely destroyed.  How did I survive through this and the next few years?  Why am I still here?

Mostly, I credit the SOS group that my husband and I attended after Dustin’s death.  It was a Godsend.  No other experience even begins to compare with the healing that I received there.  In SOS groups, understanding is conveyed by the gentle nod of a head when someone speaks of a shared emotion or experience.  And there is a look in another survivor's eyes that cannot be found in other people's eyes.  Another survivor knows and has felt what you are feeling.

I'll leave you with a poem I found online that reminds me of my son.  It is written by Benjamin Fox, whose brother died by suicide.

"Summer rainstorms

sudden and strong.

Heavy thunder rolling by,

lightning strikes.

Trees crack as they fall

in the nearby forest.

Cool wind picks up.

Grey fog lingers,

above the valley floor.

Falling stars quietly rest."