Second avoiding religious conseling ...
I would tend to stay away from purely religious forms of counselling.
I have to second this, unless you know the priest/minister/etc... personally already, and they don't just thump the Bible (or only use it where it caters to your own beliefs, not theirs). There are some great ones out there, but they are a minority it seems, so I side with AFA.
Sorry to hear about your friend's loss. I can't imagine what you'all are going through. It's especially difficult for those left behind.
I can't relate to your friend. He didn't know why his son killed himself. That's really saddening, although it likely means he wasn't a negative factor.
You see, understand I could have killed myself when I was 17, and it was calculated to a point, and I messed up my body for awhile. In reality, there were far better ways to kill oneself. I guess I was basically leaving it to God's hands in what I did. When I did it, my father wasn't surprised (although my mother reacted in a way that I won't forget), and it caused him to "wake up." That was my intent, although I selfishly took advantage of his love.
That was wrong, horribly wrong. It was the wrong thing to do, even if it ended up in a right (an intervention), it was wrong.
The following section is selfish, so feel free to skip ...
I threw myself out of a two story home. Luckily I landed on my side, not my head. I did it after my mother walked in to bark at me yet again, I finally just finally had it and jumped out the window, especially when I said, "I am not going to sit here and listen to this anymore, and if you don't leave me alone, I'm just going to jump out the window." She dared, I did. I had been couped up in my room for all 2 weeks of the holidays, for something I didn't do (yet again). I had basically spent the last 3 months devoid and all social activities in my life, a good portion of my senior year to that point. I stared out that window for weeks, with the idea building over and over. I'm grounded, I can't do anything, and I have to put up with my mother coming in and just yelling at me whenever she felt like it, over and over, day after day.
Sounds pathetic, right? I thought so too. I mean, when she really started this when I was 15 (remember I mentioned how my values were as strong since then, 15, as they are today, that's why), I always told myself, "there are kids without houses, food, clothing, etc... I have it great." Well, as great as I had it, my mother had one real problem. Like most mothers, she thought her oldest son was doing everything wrong. But unlike most mothers, she continually not just accused me, but lied to my father about what I did (which I never did).
My mother was purposely trying to "break me," as I was told later. She hated men (still does), but it was more than that. She loved me to the point where she wanted me to just do anything she said, and there were even school-related events (I was a 3 sport athlete and involved in several clubs) that she would bar me from (a few coaches got involved a couple of times). I know part of it was the success I had in school, academics, sports, etc... things came naturally, especially since I started dating.
It was really fucked up style -- enough that a shrink said afterwards only my father was allowed to discipline me (and that stuck since). I mean, it really was a "wake up call" for my dad to "intervene." Again, people wonder I've such "strong values" since age 15. When you're accused of doing all sorts of things, you start to put together values that matter. You start to hold yourself accountable. I thought I could outlast it, after all, I was 15, then 16, then 17, and almost to college (although I stayed home for college), with a bright future. I wasn't one of those kids that wanted to stupidly move out and leave those opportunities behind, and I recognized my parents were that key, so I figured my parents knew the best for me.
Again, for myself, I later realized the act was extremely selfish (beyond just its destructive nature), taking advantage of the love others had for me (especially my father, he was extreme disturbed by it). My father wasn't surprised, and it caused him to "wake up." So I can't relate to your friend. My selfish experience was because I actually had a lot of potential, but I couldn't find a place to hide my emotions anymore. Especially since I knew, deep down inside, my mother cared for me. But I couldn't get my father to keep her from just spending her afternoons yelling at me before he got home. And it was hard to get him to believe me at all before that happened.
And I really can't relate because if I really wanted to kill myself good and dead, hanging does the job. I could have hung myself in my room. I was a pretty good, young technician, so I could have rigged something up that worked. So mine wasn't the same in that regard either.
