Iris Cole interviews Dr. Oren Tana about depression and its treatment (Walla system)
One Friday, a sunny January morning, my phone rang and my brother's number appeared on the screen.
I was just in the middle of paying for a purchase at a consumer store, so I rejected the call from him, only to get back to him later.
From then until today, 8 years, it will never happen that I don't answer a phone call from my brother.
The next phone call was from my brother-in-law, who asked me to urgently come to my parents' house.
On my way there he informed me that my father was found dead in the field near the house.
When I arrived, my brothers and I were standing there, above him, wondering what was going through his mind.
Such a play on words, which is reserved for the abyss of black humor of three people who were orphaned at once.
At the time before he died, he was at a crossroads and was debating whether to retire from his independent business that he had built for more than 30 years.
We knew about his struggles in this matter, but we did not imagine that this decision would be so difficult and unbearable for him, that it would make him no longer exist.
My father was a tall and strong man.
He had big palms, blue eyes and a big heart.
He immigrated to Israel from Romania, at the age of 23 and after serving in the Romanian army.
He acquired a profession for himself, as a dental technician and began to work as a freelancer for his livelihood.
He was a man thirsty for knowledge, self-taught, book-loving who quickly connected to the world of technology and learned to operate the computer for his personal needs.
He was always surrounded by acquaintances and friends from different circles.
Being second generation to the Holocaust, he made sure to acquire all kinds of relatives of different types and degrees around the world.
He also understated talking about himself.
about his actions, feelings and experiences.
We only understood the frustration he felt around the retirement process in retrospect, and only at the tip of the fork.
Our regular phone calls were mainly based on the last few years before his death, and contained a limited number of repeated sentences that mainly revolved around the well-being of the children.
If I had known that these would be our last conversations, I have no doubt that I would have done things differently.
He rarely talks about himself, his work, his feelings and experiences.
Jordan's father (photo: courtesy of the family)
The way he chose to accept what I see as an unquestionably final decision is perhaps the only one in his life.
He accepted and left.
As if rejecting the possibility of someone appealing this decision.
Only a few hours passed from the moment he was found until he was buried in a hasty funeral that included a very limited number of people.
His oath was also different, different.
Contrary to what is customary in events of this type, no photo albums were opened.
No stories were told about him.
About who was and what was for the comforters who came.
Yes, many questions were asked about what happened.
Did we know, did we see, and why did he commit suicide?
And no, we didn't know.
And we didn't see.
And we never imagined that he would commit suicide.
He did not leave behind any letter or explanation.
One of the first thoughts that we, the brothers, were required to do was what to say to our children.
They were very small then and we were afraid to confront them with the real version of what happened to him, so we stuck to the prearranged story that he died of cardiac arrest.
For years, we maintained the uniformity of the version in front of them in the various conversations in which the circumstances of his death came up.
We took care of them and ourselves.
My brothers were then and still are my support and anchor.
This partnership of fate united us and strengthened the bond between us.
I joined the association for life on the recommendation of my sister, so we also decided, all brothers, that it was time to tell our children about the true circumstances of his death.
The beginning of my volunteering at the association was giving lectures on suicide prevention on behalf of the association.
I thought that I would not be able to hide from them the content of the lectures and trainings and my connection to them.
I gathered the children and told them.
I apologized for the lie.
on the cover.
I told what really happened, what we know, what we guess and how we deal with the suicide of my father, their grandfather.
I allowed them to ask me questions.
And they asked.
At this point in time, there were no more secrets between us on the subject.
Don't want secrets at home.
Jordan's father with his grandchildren (photo: courtesy of the family)
They listened attentively.
It was exciting to be able to bring them together for such a conversation and get their usually distracted attention, as is the way of young children.
And they are aware and know.
about my feelings
The deep sorrow and difficulty.
About the activity in the association, about my goals.
And thanks to them I feel more complete with myself as a mother, as a child of a father who committed suicide.
Since then they have heard my lecture as part of the association and know how to tell their friends about it as well.
They are not ashamed or afraid to tell how their grandfather died.
And I'm no longer afraid of this secret, which I kept from them.
While I am writing and lecturing thoughts are running through my head.
Is this really how I feel?
Am I really not mad at him?
Aren't you mad at myself?
I couldn't see anything then?
Were we all right in this story?
Could we have done more?
These will forever remain unsolved questions in my mind and they will always accompany me.
I believe that with my children I behave differently.
Make sure to share my life with them, tell them about myself, my successes, my failures.
The disappointments.
I was so happy for the opportunity to share with them what happened to him.
I wanted there to be no secrets between us and I wanted them to learn to share, even in their difficulties, and to understand that their parents, as well as my father, are people too.
human.
that they have difficulties and frustrations with life.
But most of us find the right path to follow.
As part of my activity in the association, as a lecturer, I hope we can make a change.
even if small.
To plant the seeds of awareness in people's heads.
the listening buds.
If we can save one soul - we have won the whole world.
This coming Tuesday, at 6:00 p.m., a march will leave the Chamber Theater in the streets of Tel Aviv, under the title "We must talk, we can prevent suicides!".
The event was initiated by the "For Life" association and in collaboration with the Suicide Prevention Unit at the Ministry of Health.
For information and a donation to the association "For Life" at www.
Do you know someone who is in a suicidal crisis?
Do you feel this way yourself?
You are invited
to fill out the "suicide identifier" questionnaire here and now, written by experts in the field of mental health as part of the activities of the National Suicide Prevention
Program
.
"N" - mental first aid - 1201
Sahar - help and listening online: https://sahar.org.il/
National Child Protection Headquarters online: 105
health
Tags
depression
suicide
suicide
