A death by suicide is often sudden and deeply shocking. It is a form of self-directed violence that can be especially confronting and hard to make sense of. Alongside the emotional impact, there are practical challenges that may arise. Legal processes must take place by law, often involving the police, pathologists, and the coroner. The media may also take an interest. All of this can add pressure and distress at an already overwhelming time.  

If you discovered the person or were close to the scene of death, that experience can be traumatic. Viewing the person’s body may also be deeply confronting. In response, your mind may replay distressing thoughts or images. These can be part of trying to make sense of what happened. 

Some people experience flashbacks: sudden, vivid moments that feel like reliving a part of the trauma. They may involve sights, sounds, smells, or physical sensations that take you right back. If this is happening to you, know that it’s a common response to traumatic loss.

Grief after suicide often brings up many tangled and conflicting emotions, sometimes all at once. You may feel a deep sense of self-blame or guilt, questioning what you might have missed or believing you should have done something differently. There can be feelings of rejection or abandonment, a hurt that the person didn’t reach out or chose to leave. Anger may rise: at them, at yourself, at others, or even at the world. You might begin to question your memories, looking back and wondering if things were really as they seemed. There can be a deep sadness or frustration at not having had the chance to say goodbye, alongside a longing to go back in time and somehow change what happened. Heavy regret may also settle in, with thoughts of “what if…” playing over and over in your mind.  

These feelings are all valid. They don’t mean you’re grieving the “wrong” way. It only means that you’re a human being trying to process something incredibly hard. 

In many cultures, including here in Aotearoa, suicide has long been considered a tapu or taboo subject. It’s a topic often surrounded by silence, shame, and misunderstanding. While awareness is changing and more people now understand that suicide is a complex health and social issue, some outdated attitudes still linger. 

These beliefs can create a ripple effect of harm, not just for those who struggle with suicidal thoughts, but for their whānau and loved ones as well. 

 If you’ve lost someone to suicide, you may face social stigma and feel like you’re being judged, excluded, or blamed, even subtly. People might avoid saying the word suicide or act awkwardly because they don’t know what to say. They may also avoid acknowledging the person who died or saying their name. They may offer little or no support because they feel unsure or uncomfortable. 

 Sometimes this stigma turns inward. You might start to question yourself, feel ashamed, or believe others are thinking badly of you – even if they’re not. This is called internal stigma, and it can quietly chip away at your self-esteem. It may cause you to withdraw, stop talking, or prevent from reaching out for support.  

Sometimes grief isn’t openly acknowledged by others. This is known as disenfranchised grief. It happens when a person’s loss is not recognised by people around them. When your grief is minimised, overlooked, or misunderstood, it can leave you feeling isolated and make it harder to process your loss. 

Disenfranchised grief may arise in situations such as: 

• The relationship to the person who died isn’t acknowledged or accepted by others 
• The relationship was private or not known to others 
• A same-sex spouse or partner was not being recognised as part of the whānau 
• LGBTIQ+ people who aren’t out feel unsafe grieving openly 
• The loss of an ex-partner 
• Losses surrounded by stigma (e.g., overdose, suicide) 
• Not having access to traditional support systems, or estrangement from whānau 
• The death of someone you never knew, such as an absent parent or a sibling you never met 
• The death of an online friend 
• When others perceive someone as being unable to grieve “properly” (e.g., children, or people with an intellectual disability).

If any of this is your experience: 

• Acknowledge your feelings. Your grief is real and valid, no matter how others see it. 
• Find your own ways to remember. Create personal rituals or gestures that honour the person who has died. 
• Lean on others for support. Connect with friends, whānau, or support groups who can wrap you in aroha and understanding. 
• Help others understand. If you feel able, let people know what this loss means for you. 
• Practice self-care and give yourself space and time. 
• Reach out for extra support. Professional or peer support can help carry you through. 

Whatever your story looks like, it’s okay to seek help, connection, and space to grieve.