A man found dead in woodlands....

"A man found dead in woodlands..."


Scroll back to the 22nd October 2012. I was checking facebook after work and in my news feed was the following comment from my friend Andy (paraphrased out of respect for those involved):

"For the past year I have been having a relationship with someone. Today she told me that it is over. I now have nothing left to live for."

If 99.9% of my friends posted that I would have thought they were being over-dramatic. But not Andy. He had been in and out of the secure unit at the local hospital, and I knew he had tried to end his life before. I knew that his wife had died a few years before. I knew that he was a schizophrenic. I knew that he suffered from physical pain so crippling that he could no longer work.

He was a talented artist and one of the funniest people I've been lucky to meet. Along with my friend Neil we made quite a tight trio during my mid teen years. Andy was 5 years older than us, and I guess we looked up to him. A big, 80s mulleted, heavy metal loving softy with opinions that were always worth listening to.

When we first met him he drove a Vespa moped. We jokingly called it a chicken chaser but secretly we envied the freedom it gave him. Then he got a car that he called Betsy. This became our main source of liberation from the confines of village life until we too passed our tests. Even back then he had his troubles. He had unresolved issues around being adopted. He also had the ability to flip if someone pushed him too far, though I don't think Neil and I ever bore the brunt. He was our mate. Friends forever...or at least until Neil and I went to University.

I saw him a few more times after I went to University but very quickly our lives took us in different directions. I always regretted that. So some years later, when we were able to reconnect via Facebook, I was very glad. We chatted infrequently, but when we did we talked in depth. We talked about meeting up but never did. Why was that? Were we both really so busy? I shall never know.

When I saw that Facebook status I knew I just couldn't sit there and do nothing. I sent him a message immediately, asking him to call me. I got no reply. I phoned the Samaritans for advice on what I should do. They were of no help. I rang the local Mental Health service, knowing that Andy would be known to them. After much effort (it was after hours), I found someone to speak to. They refused to acknowledge that they knew of Andy. They certainly wouldn't commit to doing anything.

"I know you cannot tell me that you are working with him, even though I know you are. Please just send his caseworker round."

I don't know if they did anything.

Then I tried the police. The first battle was to convince them to take me seriously. After all, people put over-dramatic posts on Facebook all the time. When I finally got through to them that there was a genuine and very pressing risk to Andy's life they asked me where he lived and what his phone number was. The truth was I knew neither. They didn't take me seriously, but eventually committed to sending a police officer around.

All of this took over an hour.  Something is wrong with the system if it is this hard to try to save a life.

The next day Andy's anguished status had gone, to be replaced by:

"Thanks for all your concern. I'm fine. But I'm going to go off the grid for a while to sort myself out. See you later."

I was relieved.

I was wrong.

That evening he was found dead in a tent in some woodland near his Mum's house.

I didn't find out about his death until New Year's Eve when in response to a happy birthday message posted on his Facebook page, one of his friends contacted me to give me the news. The truth was that both Andy's physical pain and his mental illness had got so severe that he could take medication for one but not the other. So he either had to live with excruciating physical pain, or be tormented by the voices in his head. While he had something to cling on to it was worth the pain. With that love gone, he saw nothing but torment ahead. He made a rational choice to end his life, and to be honest I can't really blame him.

That was the prevailing view of his friends too. He had quite a community of friends, linked to him by his love of music and LARP (live action role playing). Through talking to these people who had remained close to him while I had drifted away, it became clear that they thought it was always very much a case of when, and not if he would kill himself.

When you listen to him on this radio interview you hear a lucid and likeable chap, but more than that you gain a real understanding of what schizophrenia is really like. I remain sad that I could not help him when he was at his lowest ebb. I am angry that the system seemed to fail him. I regret that I was not closer to him in those last years. But do I think he was right to do what he did?

I think maybe he was.