The story of a teenage suicide
After returning from summer holiday with the family in Tanzania, Zelda started on a mild anti-depressive medication (Zoloft) medio August 2007. Initially the drug seemed to work well, her mood improved considerably, and she appeared to have a good start at her final year in basic school.
However, after app 3 weeks the effect of the medicine seemed to diminish, and on her regular check-up consultation on Thursday 6th September, the daily dose was doubled.
This again seemed to be very effective, her mood improved. On the evening of the 6th she attended her usual karate-lessons, and attended school on Friday the 7th. A large part of the following saturday was spent with her friend Christina at the local candy store, while her mother was at work at the home for the aged, and I was at work in Jamaica. In the evening she escorted her mother as she took her little brother to a function at the local school, then hung around in the living room, urging her mother to have a rest before time came to pick up her brother, promising she would wake her up in time. She'd had a small glass of white wine with her dinner, and persuaded her mother to let her have another one, as she wouldn't be going to school the next day.
Around midnight they picked up Manfred, the little brother, from school, and drove home in a relaxed and happy mood.
On sunday morning her mother, Ester; woke her up a little before 7AM to say goodbye as she left for work, and received the usual "bye-bye, have a nice day..." in return.
A few hours later she called her grandfather to congratulate him on his 86th birthday, in her usual friendly way, then spent some time with her little brother, before retiring to her own room late in the morning.
What happened thereafter will never be known in detail, all we know is this:
When Ester returned from work at app 3:30PM she found the door to the main bedroom ajar, and items of clothes from the cupboard scattered on the bed. Looking around the house she found Manfred in his room, without knowledge of Zelda's whereabouts. Another quick look around revealed that her bicycle and mobile phone was around, and as a handwritten note was found, fear increased.
Not wanting to go investigating in the bedroom Ester called me at work in Jamaica, and I suggested that she called one of the neighbours, who was also the mother of Zelda's best friend. The neighbour rushed over, and fear was turned into brutal reality, as she discovered that Zelda had committed suicide by hanging herself in the bedroom closet.
Another neighbour was called to assistance, and resurrection was tried, while an ambulance was called. Resurrection failed, and on the way to Faxe hospital the ambulance crew informed Ester that there was no hope of survival, this information being confirmed by the doctors after arrival at the hospital.
Zelda left behind a note, unlike most of her written communications this was handwritten, about one and a half A4 size pages. In it, she apologized for the mess she left behind, then stated the reasons for her suicide as "already having lived long enough, not seeing any need to stay around untill 40 or 50" and "we all have to go sooner or later, I'm just a bit faster than the rest of you,,,,,"
The aftermath..................
There followed hours and days of activty, stress and confusion, a visit from the police, calls to relatives and friends etc etc. Ester received a lot of support from friends and colleagues who came to the house and kept her company until I returned from Jamaica the following (monday) evening, and again, in the following days we were rarely alone, as the phone kept ringing and flowers kept arriving. We managed somehow to get the funeral arranged, busying ourselves with pratical issues during the day, spending restless nights unable to sleep.
In her farewell note she requested that there be no church ceremony at the funeral, a wish we had to respect. Instead a brief ceremony was held at the chapel at Faxe hospital, attended by the nearest family and quite a number of friends etc.
From the chapel we travelled to the graveyard at Karise church, where a surprising number of people, friends from school, neighbours, members of the african society in Denmark etc etc showed up.
We will always be gratefull for the participation and concern showed us on this occasion.........
