Mums on a mission
Having all suffered the same terrible loss, we had to do something
Irocked my son in my arms as he wept, both sadness and relief engulfing me. ‘It’s going to be OK,’ I promised. It was 2010, and Hayden, then 12, had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder.
In 2002, when Hayden was 5, his father, Dave McCarthy, 33, died by suicide.
Dave had bipolar, so
I knew the signs. And Hayden showed them all.
Mood swings and big highs followed by extreme lows.
I’d started homeschooling him, but it wasn’t until Hayden attempted suicide age 12 himself that docs took me seriously.
‘I’m scared, Mum,’ he said, the day he was diagnosed.
‘I know, sweetheart. But now we can get you the help you need,’ I reassured.
With the right meds, I knew Hayden could have the happy life he deserved.
And within a few months, he’d settled back at school.
He’d been a cheeky chappy as a youngster, and I loved seeing that side shining through again.
Family life with my husband, Kevin Winkworth, then 50, Hayden and his siblings Perry, then 23, Rachael, 18, and Jamie, 16, was hectic but fun.
Shortly after Hayden finished school at 16, he pulled me aside, said he wanted to stop taking his meds.
‘Please don’t,’ I begged.
‘I feel fine, Mum,’ he said. ‘I don’t need them now.’ His mind was made up. ‘I’ll keep a close eye on him,’ I told Kevin.
Hayden seemed to cope, eventually trained as a manager at the pub where me and Kevin worked as bar staff.
In his element, Hayden’s fun side came out even more – he was loud and loved playing practical jokes on our colleagues. And on me! One day, he called just after I’d had my hair done and convinced me he was a talent scout eager to take modelling photos.
‘We spotted you walking down Kilburn High Road,’ he added, disguising his voice.
I almost believed him till I heard Perry, Jamie and Rachael in fits of laughter in the background.
But after a few years, I noticed his mood swings were back.
He would get his lows, then bounce up again.
‘Perhaps you should go to the doctor,’ I suggested gently. ‘No, I’m fine,’ he replied. I was terrified he might try and take his own life again, but scared to bring it up in case I put the thought in his head.
Hayden got his own place in 2017, and me and Kevin moved 70 miles away to Northampton the following year to care for my dad. Hayden and I talked on the phone daily.
He was still up and down, but seemed to be managing. Then, in February 2019, I called him and it went straight to voicemail. It wasn’t like Hayden – he was glued to his phone.
He’d been out with a friend the night before so I called him and he went to Hayden’s flat but he wasn’t there. A shiver ran through me. He’s dead, I thought. We reported him missing. ‘He’s attempted suicide before,’ I told police. We spent two weeks searching, putting posters up around London, until one day Kevin walked into the room in tears. ‘He’s gone, isn’t he?’ I said and he nodded.
We walked, laughed, cried and supported each other
The police had called Rachael with the news and she had called him.
I felt like part of me had died too.
I don’t know how I’d have got through the following weeks without Kevin, Rachael, Jamie, Perry and my best friend Gemma.
We grieved together, and they supported me through the funeral.
As my own mental health declined, I realised I needed to do something.
Not only to help others, but to save myself.
I decided to plan a fundraising walk for
Papyrus UK – the national charity for the prevention of young suicide. I got in touch and they mentioned they wanted to get three mums affected by suicide to go on a fundraising walk together following the success of a similar event organised by three dads who’d lost their daughters to suicide. I travelled to the Papyrus offices to meet Liz and Michelle – who had both lost their sons to suicide.
We all clicked immediately. They understood in the way only another mum experiencing the same terrible pain could. Months of planning and organising followed. Then, in September 2023, we set out on a trek of around 280 miles calling ourselves Just 3 Mums Walking. Setting off from Liz and Seb’s hometown in
Staffordshire, we walked to London to remember Hayden, before finishing at the school Michelle’s son Maxi attended in Kent.
Our bond grew stronger during our 17 days walking, laughing, crying and supporting each other.
We stopped off at schools to give talks about what had happened to our sons, and educate teenagers about how Papyrus can help them if they’re struggling with their mental health, something I’ll continue.
Other parents who’d lost children to suicide joined us.
It was cathartic and humbling – and exhausting – but we raised over £42,000, which the charity will spend supporting kids like our boys.
We need to break down the stigma of suicide to save lives.
I wish I’d been brave and asked Hayden directly if he was having suicidal thoughts.
Perhaps I could have saved him.
But I’ll keep campaigning, because I’d do anything to save other youngsters.
And prevent their parents going through this pain.
HELP AND SUPPORT If you are having thoughts of suicide or are concerned for a young person you can contact HOPELINE247 on 0800 068 4141 for confidential support and advice. For more information about Papyrus UK, visit papyrus-uk.org.
‘My son Maxi, 17, was the love of my life and incredibly happy in his own skin.
He knew he was loved and he was a communicative teen, which makes his suicide in January 2022 even more confusing. He’d called me that night. ‘I’ve reserved somewhere for our dinner next week,’ he said. An hour later he was gone. I’d never worried about suicide, Maxi didn’t struggle with his mental health.
But his girlfriend broke up with him that night, and a psychologist believes Maxi suffered an episode of ‘sudden onset despair’.
If Maxi could do this in a fleeting moment, then it can happen to anyone.
Now I’m on a mission to make sure people remember there’s always hope and someone you can talk to.’
Michelle Dore, 56, Sandwich, Kent
‘Suicide is the biggest killer of young people under the age of 35 in the UK. I only learned this terrifying fact after we lost Seb, 17, in November 2021.
Seb was a bright, intelligent, funny, sensitive, very competitive, sporty, kind and handsome young man, with so much to live for.
By raising awareness, we hope to prevent other families from suffering such pain and bring something positive out of the utter devastation of losing a child to suicide.
Had Seb been able to talk about the pain that he was experiencing, had he known about and felt able to access HOPELINE247, things may have been very different for him.’
Liz Hurlstone, 56, Madeley, Staffordshire