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Another sad day


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A grief-stricken father hanged himself after leaving a final farewell message to friends and family on Facebook, an inquest has been told.

Roger Crouch, 55, was discovered hanged by his wife Paola at their home near Winchcombe on 28 November.

He began an anti-bullying campaign after his son Dominic's suicide over rumours he may have been gay.

...Mr Crouch's son died when he jumped off a building near his school, St Edwards in Charlton Kings, in May 2010.

Mr Crouch was previously named as a hero of the year by Stonewall, the lesbian, gay and bisexual charity, for his work.


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How very sad indeed. A death in the family is traumatic, and now this only compounds the issue. And of course "psychiatrists say" in the aftermath that he was grief stricken.

I don't know how thinks play out there in the UK, but here, in the event of a student death, the schools provide counseling to the student body. It may be a case of closing the barn door after the horse has escaped but they do make an effort to deal with the grief of the students. But I have always wondered who takes care of the surviving family?

Mr. Crouch did the wrong thing, but in his grief it probably seemed like the most logical step. I am just sorry he felt that way. From what I've read he should have remained alive to counter the forces of bullying that pushed his son into suicide. The human mind can be fragile and we don't know what kind of safety net this man had to cope with his grief. Whatever, it was obviously not enough.

I do hope Mrs. Crouch gets the help she needs, since now her loss has been doubled. :sad:

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Well of course he was grief-stricken. And of course the problem he was fighting is very large. Sometimes, things seem insurmountable. Or non-go-around-able. I'm not trying to be cutesy there. I'm saying over, around, or through, the problem of homophobia is a giant it is hard to tackle and budge even a millimeter.

Some days, when things in life are bad, I get very down too. I try to remind myself to keep going. I have had a lot of practice telling myself that, and a lot of practice picking myself back up, dusting off, and continuing on. yes, some days, I don't make much progress. Heck, some days I fall backward. But I still have to keep going. I'm stubborn. I don't really know any better way than how I manage, and it works, sometimes. I'm also dreamer enough to insist that damn it, things must somehow get better. There must somehow be other people who see it and want positive change, and not just about homophobia, but about so many things in life that just are not how they could be in a better world.

There are friends who are no longer in this world whom I love, and I won't get to see them until I'm gone too. -- But that does not mean I should be eager to hurry it up and join them any sooner than when it's my time.

We may not be perfect every minute of every day. We screw up. We stall out. We pick back up and go on. Sometimes, we don't see the way, and we wonder what to do next. That is how it is in life.

But we do find ways to do more, to make things work and go a little better, and we go on. We can find ways to make this world a little better and get people to hear us and see us. The ones who are willing to hear and see will. Perhaps that isn't instant or huge, but perhaps too, it's more permanent, more long-term.

Yes, it's true, some days, you may have to remind me of all that, because some days, I'm not so optimistic.

But I am convinced there must be something better than how things are right now, and I want to see that happen.

I'd like to say too, that I don't fault those who die or who attempt it. I understand that too well from being near it too often.

We who are here can do something about it all as long as we are alive. If we can't talk, we can write. If we can't stand, we can sit. If we can't hear or can't see, we can still listen and look with our mind's eyes and ears. If we can't move, we can still be moved and move others. It is not hopeless. We can do something about the way the world is, just by our insistence, just by not shutting up about it and being involved and involving, motivating, those around us (or us too).

There are times when I get tired of being sad, for myself and for the people I love and miss. I tend to respond to posts like this with some mix of sadness, but also with a fighting spirit, and I am not by nature really a fighter, more of a dreamer.

There must be more to it all than to lose so many for no good reason but that some people hate and have too little acceptance and compassion and love.

"We've just got to find a better way." -- Song lyric, I can't recall the song or band right now, sorry.

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