My son, Jake, died from depression

by Susan Shearouse 

Journal Entry. May 12. Sunday. Mother’s Day

Susan and her son, Jacob Hasson Stull who died by suicide.
February 26, 1982 – September 14, 2018

Sitting on the porch, comforted by the sweet soft rain. This bench is sheltered just so. I can look out across the front yard at my gardens there and stay dry here.

Mother’s Day. I am the mother of three children. One is not with me. Other people say “he is here.” No. Here is rumbling through the neighborhood in an old truck that needs a new muffler. Here is bounding up the front steps, bursting through the front door calling out “Hi Mom!” Here is wrapping those long skinny arms around me. Here is that soft place on the side of his neck that I kissed as I said a silent prayer of protection for him.

No. Don’t tell me about the power of prayer – unless you want to tell me that some people’s prayers are better than others… more powerful maybe? Or does God just love them more?

I wept in Karen’s office. Why did he leave me? “He didn’t,” she said. “He just left the pain he couldn’t bear any longer.”

Yes. I’ve spent more nights in prayer and worry for him than for Eli or Fer. Because there always seemed to be something more fragile about him. He was less tethered to this life. The others seemed sturdier, somehow. Eli said, after the news, “well, if he hadn’t done it now he would have done it later.” I don’t want to believe that. I believe ‘if only…’ If only I had been there… If only I‘d tried one more time, or twenty more times, to get him to the help he needed.

How could such a handsome, kind, loving, brighter than I could imagine human being ever carry such pain, to think that the only way was out?

6 thoughts on “My son, Jake, died from depression”

  1. Hey Susan. Not sure if you remember me but I met you many many years ago when I dated your son. I was crazy in love with him. Pretty sure he was my first big love. We worked together and he could talk to anyone, knew just how to lighten the mood with a joke and could kill a crossword puzzle. He went out of his way for people he cared about. He used to drive all the way to Luray to see me when I moved home for a while. Your son was an absolutely gorgeous person. I was so happy to reconnect with him about seven years ago while on a road trip. Got to spend several days with him and his crazy pup. It killed me to get the news of his suicide. I just want you to know that I still think about him all the time. He made a big mark on me, and I’m guessing he did the same for countless others. I hope you, your kids (and your grand kiddos who are probably well grown up by now) are all doing well. ♥️

  2. So well said Susan. I could’ve written some of that myself – we have similar stories and sentiments. I agree on the prayer thing. It ought to be called “the power of prayer to get what you want”. No one says their prayers were answered when they get a “no”…….
    If it makes you feel any better, my son was on medication and seeing a therapist. But he was far away in NYC and holding us at arms’ length.
    I am so sorry you lost your sweet Jake.
    Peace to you.

    1. I knew Jake only briefly when I lived on Cub Creek rd. we would walk up to Hickmans and he was always so polite and easy to talk to. You never would’ve known he was battling his own demons. My heart breaks for your loss.

      1. Thank you so much for this memory of Jake. I have read and read and reread your words. It’s a comfort to me to know that others also remember him.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Share via
Copy link
Powered by Social Snap