The last conversation I had with my 21-year-old daughter Freyja before she took her life was an argument. That terrible fact will haunt me until my last day.
She had been distant and rude to me and I didn’t know why, so one morning I went to the cafe where she worked. At first, she was happy and excited to see me, as if my old Freyja had returned. Then she became cold and unhappy at my presence. I just couldn’t understand it.
Things hadn’t been going very well between us, but I just wanted to tell her how much I missed her and how much I loved her very much. I asked him if he wanted to catch up for coffee or lunch, but he ignored me. It was as if something had changed inside her.
I said, ‘Okay, call me when you’re ready.’ What else could a father do? I never got a call or text from her after that, and I didn’t push her because I wanted to give her space.
In the years since then, I’ve scolded myself many times (you should have pushed, you should have paid more attention), but deep in my heart I know there was nothing I could have done with the knowledge I had at the time.my.
You see, despite being bright, cheerful and brilliant, my Freyja had her demons.
For years, his mother and I had nothing to worry about. At 15, he had three jobs: two cafes and a Bakers Delight. She was a well-liked student and was the spiritual captain of the house at school. She was an all-around athlete and social butterfly.
Then after she left high school, she became distant and there was a real sense of disconnection between us in 2019. I felt like I was losing her and I didn’t know why..
There were no warning signs that he was suicidal. Maybe she just hid it well, or maybe I didn’t see them because she was living with my ex-wife at the time..
After his death, I learned that he had tried to end his life a few years earlier. I had no idea. If I had that knowledge then perhaps I would have been more alert. Maybe I could have helped her.
But one thing I did notice clearly was that she was going through a phase where she was rejecting her loved ones. We had always been close: we had gone to music festivals, traveled together, and trained for two years to compete in an Ironman triathlon.
It is difficult to summarize Freyja’s short life in words. Perhaps the first thing that stood out was his sales skills. In elementary school, I sold stickers to staff for 40 cents each and made $70. At 16, she self-funded a ski trip from our home in Australia to Japan. He knew how to make money.
My daughter Freyja (right) took her life on October 9, 2019. I never noticed any signs that she was suicidal, possibly because she was living with my ex-wife. They never told me that he had tried to commit suicide a few years before.
After graduating from high school, he began studying business, but he didn’t like it and thought about switching to fitness. His mother and I never got to see how he did on this new path because he died before finishing it.
Losing a child is never something you get over. As a parent, I have done a lot of soul searching. Should I have been there or done more for her? Should I have asked him more questions? But now, with the help of medication, I don’t think I could have done anything to change things.
Since his death, I’ve realized that it was probably planned a long time ago. Her friends noticed her saying things like, “I’m here for a good time, not a long time.”
I remember that awful night when we received the phone call. It was October 9, 2019. After saying goodnight at 8 p.m., Freyja entered her room, closed the door, took 20 endone pills and drank three-quarters of a bottle of tequila.
Despite being bright, bubbly and brilliant, my Freyja had her demons.
At 15, Freyja had three jobs: she worked in two cafes and at Bakers Delight. She excelled in school and was the best in her class. She was an all-around athlete and social butterfly.
But before doing so, she called her boyfriend to tell him not to come that night like he usually did. She also texted a few people, including her best friend, saying, “I’m sorry, I love you.”
Receiving that message would obviously have set off alarm bells. Her best friend ran over, banged on the front door, and ran into Freyja’s room. It was closed. They called her boyfriend. He jumped like a madman and broke down the door.
They found Freyja unconscious in bed.
His heart had stopped beating 15 minutes earlier. They immediately called an ambulance and got his heart beating again.
My ex-wife called our son, who was living with me at the time. She ran to my room, woke me up and said: ‘Dad, Freyja has tried to commit suicide. The ambulance is there. They revived her and I’m going there right now if you want to come.
‘Of course I want to come!’ I responded. We got into the car and ran to the hospital.
Seeing my daughter on life support crushed me. I felt a tsunami of sadness and began to cry my eyes out. I walked slowly towards his bed and touched his hand.
Our family came together to support each other, hoping and praying that she would be okay. We were still optimistic that it could pull through.
I told them about her training for the Ironman triathlon, how tough she was, and how sure I was that if anyone could do it, it would be my daughter.
Losing a child is never something you get over. As a parent, I have done a lot of soul searching. Should I have been there or done more for her? Should I have asked him more questions?
We kept watch at his bedside day and night that weekend.
One of those nights, I cried silently next to her as the heart monitor beeped. Our relationship was not very good when she decided to end her life and I was wracked with guilt and regret. I remember thinking, ‘I need a sign, Freyja.’ So I know we still had that connection that I appreciated when you were younger.
I went downstairs where I saw a group of Freyja’s friends. One of them, who I knew, came up to me, gave me a hug and said: ‘You know she loved you a lot, right?’
They all chimed in: “Yes, Mr. Lee, she loved you very much.” I collapsed. I had prayed for reassurance that she loved me, that she had been a good father, that somehow she hadn’t been the reason for all of this.
Deep down, I think Freyja knew this would crush me. Maybe that’s why he pushed me away before he died.
A day later, I was sitting in the waiting room and two doctors approached me. I already knew what they were going to say: Freyja was gone.
They asked us if I would be an organ donor and we said absolutely. She would want the opportunity to help others; It was the kind of person he was.
We later found out that he often said the same thing to his friends. “If I ever go, I want my organs to go to everyone.”
After Freyja left us, I went downhill. I didn’t know how to deal with the pain. He was drunk almost every night. It was the only way to bear the unbearable burden of pain.
One way I have learned to manage my sadness is to embrace spirituality. I was never a spiritual person before. now me I believe my daughter’s spirit lives on through butterflies.
It started two weeks after Freyja’s death. I went out for a bike ride and noticed a butterfly flying right next to me. He circled around for a while, following me as I rode.
Inside me, I knew it was Freyja’s spirit.
From then on, every time I felt the need to connect with Freyja, there seemed to be butterflies around. I know it sounds strange. The old me would say that I have gone crazy.
I recently went to visit my mother in New Zealand. I was cleaning out boxes of our old things. Just to prove my theory that she was looking out for me, I asked Freyja to give me another sign. I opened a box and the first thing What I saw was a drawing that Freyja had made when she was five years old. In the drawing, she was in heaven as an angel with butterflies flying around her, while our family was below on the ground.
It wasn’t until I turned to psychedelic medicine that my healing truly began. At first I wasn’t interested because I didn’t think it would work.
Then I did a five-day retreat that changed my life. I arrived depressed, angry and sad, then left almost as if I were my normal self again. I thought it could help me shape my life in the future.
Also, I gave up alcohol.. The clarity of sobriety changed everything for me and today I mark five years of sobriety.
I went through three sessions of psychedelic therapy. Not only did it help me heal my pain, but I felt more at peace with the idea of death. I know that one day I’m going to die but it doesn’t scare me. Then I will meet with Freyja and I look forward to it.
If you need support or someone to talk to in a personal crisis, call the Samaritans on 0116123.
- As told to Carina Stathis