Manhattan woman campaigns to the break silence about taboo subjects of depression, suicide after 12-year-old son took own life

Manhattan resident Martha Stevens can talk calmly about her son, Ian Atchison, who died five years ago this March. She will talk about him to anyone who will listen and this fact, she said, makes many people uncomfortable.

"If Ian had died of cancer or cystic fibrosis, people would be like, 'Way to go, Martha, you're going after the thing that killed your son,'" Stevens said. "But because he died of suicide, people don't want to hear about it, and that angers me."

Atchison was only 12 years old and in the sixth grade when he took his own life. Stevens found him and performed CPR. When first responders arrived on the scene, they took over and worked to save his life.

"They would not give up on a child," Stevens said. "They were heroes. They were princes."

Atchison was airlifted to Kansas City, where Stevens and her ex-husband sat by his side for four days, but Atchison never regained consciousness. Eventually, his family made the difficult decision to terminate life support.

"It's an odd sort of gratitude, but I had four days to talk to him and sing to him," Stevens said. "Most parents I've spoken to have not had that."

In the days following Atchison's death, Stevens said she started out strong with a desire to help everyone else. She kept busy by planning the funeral and speaking with the parents of his classmates, but after the funeral, she said, the real work began — living in a world without her son.

"I wanted badly to die. I wanted to be with Ian," Stevens said. "I think what stopped me in those early days was, I couldn't figure out where. Having found my son, I didn't want anyone to find me."

Stevens said she began developing symptoms of post-traumatic stress, like flashbacks, nightmares and insomnia, while Atchison was still in the hospital.

Although the symptoms have gotten better, they persist to this day and she still requires medication to help her sleep and struggles when everyday tasks can trigger an episode.

Grocery shopping was, and still is, difficult because the sight of his favorite foods can reduce her to tears. Halloween is especially difficult, she said, because of the fake gravestones and hanging skeletons or mannequin "corpses" everywhere.

Laurie Wesely, assistant director for clinical services at K-State, said those she has talked to who know someone who died by suicide never get over it.

"It's a grief that doesn't end," Wesely said. "And part of it is that 'Why? What could I have done?'"

Stevens said, in retrospect, her son gave signs that he was suicidal over a six-month period before he died, but because they were not conglomerated, she said, the signs went unrecognized. Many of the symptoms are similar to normal adolescent behavior, such as mood swings, bouts of depression and insomnia.

"I knew the signs and I did not put them together," Stevens said. "The guilt can be incredible."

For months afterwards, Stevens looked for a suicide note from Atchison to explain why he had chosen to take his own life.

"But there was no note," Stevens said. "He was just gone."

Stevens said it is difficult to point to any one thing as the cause of suicide, as it is usually a very complicated thing with many factors involved, a sentiment shared by Aaron Gier, Manhattan resident, who lost a close friend to suicide in December 2011.

Gier said he has heard people express anger because his friend left behind a 7-month-old daughter when he died.

"You don't know what he was going through at the time," Gier said he told them. "I don't judge people for their actions."

Wesely said all the people she has talked to who have attempted suicide say the same thing, that they thought they were thinking so clearly at the time and had thought everything through so carefully. In hindsight, they told her, they realized they were not thinking clearly at all.

"I think any of us can get in that space," Wesely said. "I think feelings of being trapped and not having any options can make anyone feel that way."

Three months after her son's death, Stevens came to the conclusion that she could no longer cope alone; Manhattan, however, does not have a local survivors of suicide group.

The nearest available support group is in Topeka, so Stevens went online looking for help and discovered a support group called Parents of Suicides. She requested to speak to someone who had lost their child in a similar manner to the way Atchison died, so that they would know exactly what she was going through.

A match was found and Stevens found comfort in being able to talk about her thoughts and feelings, no matter how dark, with people who would listen and understand.

"They have saved my life, over and over and over," Stevens said. "Finding your peers is so very important."

Stevens is now a moderator of the online support group and is registered in the state of Tennessee — the state where the group was founded — in suicide prevention.

Like her own experience, Stevens said she has found it is not uncommon for parents and others who have lost someone they love to suicide to become suicidal themselves. She said she has a knack for picking up on members who are in the greatest despair and helping them, and she believes she has saved several lives.

"You have to ask hard questions: 'Do you have a plan for taking your life tonight? Tell me about your plan,'" Stevens said. "What keeps me going is giving back. I still have periods when I don't think I'm going to make it, but it's not every day anymore."

The American Foundation for Suicide Prevention reports that one person dies of suicide every 15 minutes in the United States, averaging 101 people every day. Suicide is the third leading cause of death among Americans aged 15 to 24 years old, and the sixth leading cause between the ages of 5 and 15.