My name is Kisha Allman, I am a suicide survivor due to the loss of my father on June 28, 2008.
Through my grieving process I have chosen to become an advocate for suicide prevention.
From my pain I have developed a constructive therapy and a need to reach out to others.
Like most others, I had great childhood memories, and some that were not so great. My parents had a struggling relationship. There was a lot of drinking and a lot of fighting from time to time. By the time I was 14, the stresses in my parents relationship became more than they could handle. They divorced and went their separate ways.
After a few relationships, my father met a woman who made him happy. The relationship changed him in some way. He had been unhappy for quite sometime and now it was different. Unfortunately, a month after their engagement, she was killed in a car accident. He was crushed. Devastated. After this tragic accident, he spent some time living with me and eventually started dating another woman. I know he loved her after awhile but he just never got over the loss of his fiancé.
My father was self-employed and was building his third house when things started to not work out with his current girlfriend. She moved out and his behavior really started to change. He didn't try to hide the fact that he wasn't happy. In fact, he told me he would one day end his life. I had a fear for many years that suicide was always a possibility. Imagine walking around knowing your father may one day decide to take his own life.
April 21, 2008 was the night I started to lose my dad. It was a Wednesday around 9:30 in the evening. My phone rang and it was my father. He sounded strange and was talking about things that did not make sense. He told me he was sitting in his truck and couldn't go inside. My Dad did not want to go inside. It was only him and my 10 year old brother at home. I talked to him for a few hours and he finally said he was going to bed. I was terrified.
My dad called me the next day and he was worse. He said things that really made me scared. I met my little brother at the bus stop, took him to get some clothes, and took him home with me. Caleb has lived with me ever since.
About a week went by, and he missed my sons baseball game he had promised to be at. I just had this feeling in the pit of my stomach. I called my older brother, Jonathan and told him he should go check on him. By the time he reached his house, Jonathan found him locked in the garage with the truck running. It had been quit some time. My Dad was lying on the ground. My brother opened the doors, pulled him out and called 911. Our Dad was rushed to the hospital and one more time, had his brush with death. Only this time was different. I was determined it was my responsibility to get my Dad some help. After awhile, a nurse came to me with some papers to sign that would commit him to the mental health ward for a period of time. I knew this was what had to be done no matter how mad he was going to be.
He stayed for two weeks. Some days he would make it look like he was accepting of what they were trying to teach him. Other days, he made it clear to me he would kill himself when he got out.
I found out I was pregnant while he was there. This, I thought, would be the answer to our prayers! I thought this would make my Dad happy in some way and he would try to get better. The day came, when his therapist called and said the hospital was releasing him. I begged them not to. I knew he wasn't ready yet but they disagreed. He came to stay with us. A few days later, I had a miscarriage and lost the baby that I felt we so badly needed to bring joy to our dark world. We were all devastated!
He took this pain upon himself and the grief caused his behavior to get worse.
After not speaking to my Dad for two days, I knew in my heart it was time to look for him. Once I got to his home, I didn't like what I saw. Placement of certain things made it obvious that the outcome of that day would be the worst day of my life. I just had a gut feeling. The only problem at this point was where to look. He had 42 acres of land. So I began driving around. After getting a little scared of the task at hand, I called my 24 year old brother, Jonathan. He was there in no time and took over the looking. After a period of time that seemed like forever, I heard the scream. The scream from my brother is embedded in my head forever. I just dropped to my knees and began crying. My father had hung himself just across the property line.
Two and a half years have now passed as I sit down to write this. In hopes to inspire others, I have found it to be very therapeutic to share my story and to be a listening ear to others who may know my struggle.
~ Kisha is now the chair of the first Campus Out of the Darkness Walk in Columbus Indiana scheduled for May 14th, bringing awareness and AFSP resources to her community, in memory of her Father.
Register online at www.campuswalks.org
