Stigma of suicide worsened at inquest
That means that, every day, some family faces the indescribable pain and anguish that such a death imposes on parents, siblings, and friends.
After the funeral is over, life moves on for some. For those most closely involved, the silence falls and the family is left to pick up the pieces. Many families are surprised when, after six weeks or more, a member of the Garda Siochána call to the family home to inform them of the date of the inquest of their family member. This inquest usually takes place in the local courthouse or sometimes, in a hotel room, neither of which are conducive to comfort and privacy. It is the start of yet another painful and intrusive journey into their grief and pain.
Does it need to be this way? I do not think so. This approach adds a touch of criminality and stigma to a terrible tragedy, and it is important now to look at how it could be changed.
An inquest is a public inquiry into death, held to establish the identity of the deceased, the date, place of death, and the circumstances surrounding the death, including a medical cause. It is overseen by a coroner (who acts as a judge) with the assistance of a jury of 10 or 12 people.
Similar to what happens in many courtrooms, there are a large number of people — uniformed gardaí, the State pathologist, reporters, witnesses who are called to give evidence under oath, other persons who may have given a statement, next of kin if they so decide to attend, and the general public.
The inquest will not tell you why a person died by suicide but is a requirement of law to establish the facts. Evidence is given and, generally at the discretion of the coroner, any suicide notes or relevant letters are read. In the presence of such a diverse group, this can be a humiliating situation and is an added burden of anxiety, trauma, and pain for the family involved.
Families of those who die by suicide do not have lobby groups to highlight their plight while attending an inquest. They have already been thrust into an unknown situation when a sudden death arrives at their door. The shock and horror of being in a court of law escalates their excruciating pain and gives the impression of a criminal act.
They should expect compassion as to how such a painful and public appearance is handled by authorities. This could be all so different and so easily changed if the will to do so was there. There are no legal barriers to change, only a lack of human compassion and understanding.
There is a general lack of knowledge about the coroner’s service in the public domain. It is one of the oldest public services. It covers all sudden and questionable deaths and, under law, must be carried out before a death certificate is issued. The act under which the coroner currently functions was passed in 1962. It operates as an independent judicial office to establish the “who, when, where, and how” of unexplained deaths. It is not permitted to consider civil or criminal liability; it is there just to establish the facts. The system has not changed for 50 years, even though suicide was decriminalised 20 years ago.
A working group on the review of the coroner’s service published a report in 2000 with more than 100 recommendations. The review stated: “Rules should be established by statutory regulation and be capable of being amended.”
It also stated “that changes in the work and practice of the coroner are inevitable as the complexity and demands of modern society increase”. These statements give a mandate to those in charge to change the system. There is no need for the present system to remain as it is; it is imperative that it is changed to take cognisance of the suffering of those using its services.
One coroner has shown how change can be made. John Lacey, coroner for Navan, Co Meath, has, with the help of concerned people, changed the structure of how he addresses inquests for those bereaved by suicide. He holds the inquest in an annex of Navan Hospital, in a place that is unlikely to be ever visited again by relatives, and out of public view. It is humanised by the presence of a group of trained bereavement personnel who provide refreshments and comfort for those attending.
They explain in a gentle way the process and how it operates to lessen the impact when the inquest begins and to make them aware of services that may help in their grief. They, with the coroner, encourage the family to ask questions if they so desire. The gardaí sit with the family, offering words of comfort and carrying out their duty as gently as is possible. There is no need for gardaí to be in uniform; by eliminating this upsetting mode of dress, a more humane environment is created. In this setting, the public are discouraged from attending. Sometimes statements by witnesses are being heard by the family for the first time.
Surely the dignity of those involved could be better cared for in such sad circumstances if the Navan model was taken on board by county councils, which pay for this service, across the country. This would be a positive step to ensure the changes necessary for dignity and consolation to be afforded to those affected. There are premises in every region that could be used to give families the privacy where they can grieve with those close to them at such a challenging and frightening time. All we need is for the people in charge to have the courage to make the change.
While writing this article, I spoke with the father of two children who had taken their lives, and asked him about how the inquest system felt for him.
The inquests were held in a hotel, which he felt was very public, “with people laughing and drinking which was upsetting and not suitable”, but he felt it “was better than in the courthouse with the people who would be circulating there”.
I asked him where might be a good place, as he lives in a rural parish, and he felt that someplace where public access was limited would give more privacy and support. He said he was scared on both occasions walking into the unknown, and didn’t know what questions he would be asked or the outcome. The tragedies, even though a few years apart, were reported on the front page of the local newspaper, which added to the family’s pain and grief. He felt angry at such an unnecessary intrusion, and felt it was tempting fate at a time when everyone was vulnerable.
He said he suffered feelings of shame, guilt, and disbelief and had nightmares for his other children and his wife. This story highlights the need for change, when so little could make such a difference.
The stigma around suicide can never be changed until society begin to alter its perception. We must never accept that a death by suicide has any criminality, either in our attitudes or practices.
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