In 1988, when my baby sister Gheri-Llynn was 29 and I was 40, she spiraled down into a dark pit of despair. Her marriage had ended, and she felt lost, alone and adrift. Like many people in similar situations, she thought that the only way out of her temporary pain was suicide.
I was in the midst of my own “nervous breakthrough,” but I did everything I could to help her. Because I’d worked for UCLA’s Neuropsychiatric Institute and knew the workings of the place, I got her admitted there, even though she had no health insurance. She stayed there a couple of months, drugged, muddle-headed and foggy, until they released her. Once she got off the drugs, she carefully planned her own demise. She drove to Mexico, bought bottles of Darvocet, and then drove up to Berkeley to say good-bye to me. Then one fine spring day, she popped into her little red car, drove to the Rose Café in Venice, and drank cappuccinos laced with Darvocet. Then she crawled back into her car, rolled up the windows and waited to die.
When my father called me late that night, and said, “Steph?” I threw the phone across the room, and screamed, “My baby! My baby!” for five hours. In those hours of searing pain, I couldn’t understand how I could be in so much pain, and still be alive.
So when I get a call from someone who’s just lost a child to suicide, my heart breaks for them. Unfortunately, it happens far too often from my point of view, but sometimes there’s a “soul-growth opportunity,” that needed to happen. And perhaps there was just no other way for a guide to teach, and a soul to learn, but with a “soul breakthrough.”
Six years ago, when rich, handsome Martin called me, his smart seventeen-year-old son, Simon, had just committed suicide. Martin lived in the perfect Beverly Hills house with his perfect, pampered Beverly Hills Housewife, and from the outside, he had a life to be envied. And yet, now his only son was dead. And no matter what he did, he couldn’t find any way out of his unbearable pain. He’d gone to his Rabbi, psychiatrists, and grief counselors, but nothing helped. That’s when he got so desperate, he came to see me.
In his first regression, he saw himself as a young boy in Poland just before World War II. His father owned a furniture making shop, and he and his older brother (Simon, his son, in this lifetime) were learning the business, while rough-housing and having a great life together. That is, until the Nazi’s roared into town and pushed his family into the Warsaw ghetto. They lived there until they were loaded like cattle into a smelly, cramped train and taken off to Auschwitz. (Now, since my own direct past life ended in Auschwitz, and I had “bleed-through dreams” starting at age three, I don’t enjoy being back in Auschwitz!) He described the horrors of the death camp, until he saw both boys die of over-work and starvation.
In his next regression, he saw himself, as a head-strong, reckless “brave,” whose father was the wise chief of a Native American plains tribe, long before the Europeans landed. His father in that lifetime was Simon, his son, in this lifetime. And Martin realized that Simon was his teacher, actually one of his guides, who had come to teach him a needed “soul lesson” in this lifetime. He realized that the life he was living was filled with nothing that had any real meaning for him. It was all for show, all to impress other people. I saw Martin again, and at the end of his last session, he seemed furious with me. He looked at me accusingly, and said, “Why won’t this pain go away?”
“Martin,” I said, “your son is dead. You’ve got to feel it. Take that hit. Let yourself heal. I’m sorry, but you can’t buy your way out of this.”
You might think that I’d never hear from Martin again, but I did. He called me a few months ago because he wanted to do another regression. I hadn’t seen him in all that time, but now he looked great! Everything in his life had changed. He’d given up the house, left his wife, and changed his view of life in general. He’s been doing lots of charity work, and lots of “giving back.”
The reason he called was because he’d met a much younger woman, Susie, who is almost thirty years younger, and he was curious to know their “connection.” Susie walked up to him at an event and just told him she just couldn’t take her eyes off him – and she didn’t know why. She just knew she needed to meet him. Did he recognize her from somewhere? He didn’t. But they’ve been together ever since that night, and he’s never been happier. Still, their age difference made him uncomfortable because of what people might think, and he wanted to be sure this is “right.”
When I took him “back in time,” and I said, “Look at your feet. Where are you?”
“I’m that Polish boy again. I’m crammed in, and crushed up against other people on a train. We’re all terrified, and I see my brother – it’s Simon – and he’s holding the hand of a scared, lost little girl. Oh, my god! That’s Susie.” He caught his breath, and just smiled and tears rolled down his cheeks. Then he went on to see events in the camp where he acted as Susie’s protector until they were torn apart. When he died, and went to the “In Between,” he saw that Simon was one of his guides, and he understood that the life he’d been living before was a “dead life.” He saw that Simon’s suicide had broken him open – woken him up — and forced him to take stock. Simon’s death forced him to decide consciously how he wanted to spend the rest of his life. And he changed everything.
Now, he feels light, free, and liberated. As he left, he turned to me and said, “I know this sounds crazy, but Susie wants to have a baby, and I hope that Simon comes back and gives me a chance to be a better father.” I hope so, too, because Martin is an elegant man who’s in love with a kind, beautiful woman and they deserve to be happy in this lifetime.
Suicide hurts those of us left behind. I know, because I still miss my sister. (If you want to read what happened with her, go to my website: StephanieRiseley.com and download chapters of my book, Love From Both Sides…. It’s free.)
Because I see suicides all the time in client’s Past Life Regressions, I know the “soul” is always greeted with compassion, kindness and respect in the In Between. So put away any visions of Purgatory or perpetual punishment. There’s never any judgment; although sometimes there is a bit of disappointment because of a “learning opportunity” lost. Everything here in Earth School seems to be about learning to love unconditionally, have compassion and let go judgments. So take the time today be compassionate toward yourself and love yourself unconditionally, then radiate that love and compassion outward, and who knows? You might make someone else happy, too!