SHARING THEIR STORIES
The following story contains discussion and themes of suicide, which may be uncomfortable for readers. Please read with caution.
KYLE – The Hays-Caldwell Suicide Prevention Coalition will host an International Survivors of Suicide Loss Day event on Nov. 23. The panelists include Carla Woodworth, Kylie Arthur, David James and Jacqui Gilmer, some of whom have shared their story early with the News-Dispatch.
“Time does help. Talk about it. Don’t hide it.” – Carla Woodworth
Day one
Carla’s husband, Marty Woodworth, 50, was educated and successful, but alongside his accomplishments, he struggled with depression and obsessivecompulsive disorder.
“He just wasn’t himself. He hadn’t been himself for a while, but it was more exaggerated,” recalled Carla. “On that particular day, he had offered to do some things to help me, like run errands and stuff like that. ‘What do you need?’ He never was like that before.”
Despite this, Carla carried on with her day and when Marty later failed to show up, she and a friend went looking for him. Instead of finding that the educator had just lost track of time, the pair found Marty dead from a self-inflicted gunshot wound in 2006.
Shock was among a multitude of feelings Carla felt, though she found herself breathing a little easier: “He had been struggling for so long and I always felt like I was doing this dance to try to help him and, all of a sudden, that wasn’t going to be the case. It wasn’t a positive thing, but it was, ‘Wow. This is crazy, but it’s over.’” “I have three boys,” Carla recalled thinking. With her oldest at 18 and in his first year of college, a 16-year-old navigating high school and an innocent, oblivious five-year-old, she began to do as mothers do: survive. ——— The wind was howling as David James ran from the high school he taught at and through the pouring rain to his car in October 2014.
His phone rang; it was his son’s mother. Divorced, the two shared custody and it was his weekend coming up. Either the plans had changed or his son had gotten into trouble at school: “David,” she said. “You need to talk to this officer.”
“I’m with the Georgetown Police Department. Your son, Peyton James, has hanged himself,” recalled David.
Screams filled David’s car, as the storm brewed outside. He eventually managed to collect himself. His son was still alive; his heart was able to be restarted. He called his wife to come pick him up, they arranged childcare for his stepson and began the drive from Houston to Austin.
Peyton was an imaginative and creative young boy, said David, adding that he was a lover of anime and manga. Born prematurely, he received pure oxygen at birth, which resulted in his teeth being discolored. This, along with his red hair and glasses, led to teasing and, eventually, bullying at school.
As David and his wife checked into the hospital, they were told that the next 72 hours would be crucial for Peyton.
“About 36 hours after that, the nurse came in and did, as usual, the test that they do every hour. Something didn’t feel right to him … They did a CT scan. They came back and took us to that same little room and they pulled up the CT scan that they did of Peyton when he came in and the one that they did then … Basically his brain was dying. They told us, ‘It’s not a question of is he going to die. It’s when he’s going to die.’” For the following 36 hours, Peyton’s family surrounded him until he was pronounced brain dead.
“You’re always hoping for the best. Hope for the best, plan for the worst, I guess is what they say. I kept thinking he was going to pull through. You watch all these doctor shows on TV and there’s always that young resident that [disregards] the system and solves the world’s problems and saves the day. That’s not reality,” he stated.
Instead, David and his family packed up their room at the Ronald McDonald House Charities of Central Texas and left to plan his 13-year-old son’s funeral. ——— “She’s done this before. She needs to be in a safe space where she doesn’t have any lethal means,” Arthur pleaded with the social worker. Her mother, Angela Shinae Hyndman, 46, had just been released from a 5150 hold, an involuntary hold that can last up to 72 hours for individuals that may pose a risk to themselves or others.
Hours prior, Hyndman had revealed that she wanted to take her own life, due to the pain she was in and, while there was a psychiatric facility with an availability for her, they were unable to accommodate her nasal cannula, as it posed a strangulation risk.
“Her ministry group leader came to pick her up to give her a safe place to be. She was going to be with friends,” Arthur explained.
Hyndman was born in Korea, grew up in San Marcos and, after a history of substance abuse, had recently celebrated five years of sobriety. She often helped host a recovery group for formerly incarcerated women in the San Marcos area. Her ministry group leader was one of the individuals that aided Hyndman in her sobriety.
So, in August 2023, when Arthur got a call to meet an ambulance with her mother at the hospital, she truthfully was not overly concerned: “It wasn’t unusual. My mom’s had other instances of health issues [and] being unconscious, but I guess I wasn’t really expecting — I mean, nobody could expect that … I could kind of tell, whenever they wouldn’t let me go back. I was like, ‘Something’s going on.’” After sitting in the waiting room with her grandmother for what felt like forever, the doors to the back opened and with it, a doctor and a nurse came out.
“That’s never happened,” thought Arthur, who, in the moment, knew that her mother was gone.
Breaking down in distress, she felt every emotion — devastation, shock, numbness, confusion, anger at the hospital that released her mother — and even physical pain in her chest and head.
“I had just seen her an hour or two before. We were talking and she was being picked up … It was complete disbelief,” Arthur recalled.
Months later
The aftermath of Marty’s death was not filled with opportunities to lose herself in his death, explained Carla. She was immediately thrown into the midst of the financial responsibilities. Prior, Marty had handled the mortgage and investments, now she was not only planning the funeral, but ensuring that her children continued to have a roof over their head.
Though, this busyness was welcomed. Because of this, she was able to be present for her sons to let them know that their mom is still with them: “Being very taskoriented, not just curling up in a ball, but forcing myself to behave normally and get things done. The kids were a big motivation. I had to act like I was okay and could manage. I didn’t want them worrying about me.”
“Once all that financial stuff and legal stuff got settled … It wasn’t like I was okay, but I remember I used to try to take the dog for a walk every day and I started to see color again and flowers and things like that. I wasn’t just physically putting one foot in front of the other. I tried to make sure I went to the grocery store every day or something just to have somebody say, ‘Thank you, Mrs. Woodworth. I hope you have a good day.’ Just to be seen and have some normalcy,” Carla said.
She also enrolled in therapy. Although Arthur did, as well, she noted that it took some time for her life to begin again.
“Through the months after, it felt like I was standing still while time was just passing by and the world was just passing by me,” said Arthur. “I hit a real low point. I was not getting out of bed and I was just really down and my partner helped me find a really good therapist.”
Talking to others has been integral to the healing process, she noted, stating that with a therapist, she could delve into deeper conversations that can’t be brought up with others in her life.
Not only was she attempting to heal, but she was also awaiting the death certificate and opportunity to lay her mother to rest. According to Arthur, because her mother was not pronounced dead at the hospital, an autopsy was required. So, three months later, when she was able to pick up her mother’s death certificate, she wasn’t prepared to read the word “suicide” as the cause of death.
“In my head, me and my grandma were like, ‘Maybe she just took a little bit too much medication and her heart gave out’ or something. So, we were just not, I guess, facing the reality of the situation,” said Arthur.
She was also shocked by the lack of empathy from those around her while awaiting the investigation, stating that others would bluntly ask whether her mother “killed herself.”
David also experienced moments of judgment.
“After Peyton died, I was looking for some kind of grief group. We found one out where we were living at the time and my wife and I went. We’re sitting in this room with all these other parents that have lost a child … [Some] lost them in an accident, several that were lost in accidental overdoses. When we said suicide, the air got sucked out of the room. There was just this. God. Awful. Pause. I mean, the looks we got. I felt so judged. We walked out of there when that meeting was over and we never went back.”
He continued, “If Peyton had died of cancer, people would have brought casseroles and rallied and raised money for the American Cancer Society. It was suicide. A lot of people stayed away.”
Encounters such as these led to David finding himself struggling. His vice of choice: sugar. The school he worked in had a Chick-Fil-A nearby and each day, he purchased a milkshake. Furthermore, David noted that he didn’t want his son to die in vain. He wanted to make a difference.
“Let me go into the schools. Let me talk to the kids,” David recalled telling the head of counseling in the district.
“’That would be a great idea, but we’re not going to do it because some parents might have a problem with it … It might make people uncomfortable.’ You want people to get uncomfortable, bury a child. That’s uncomfortable,” said David, angered with emotion.
One year later
It has been more than a year since Arthur lost her mother and, although she feels she has started the healing process, she takes each day one at a time. Some days, she must survive the hours as they come, while sometimes, there are weeks that she can breathe just fine.
“I’ve had a lot of support from family and friends and also getting involved with different community organizations and advocacy groups, like the Hays-Caldwell Suicide Prevention Coalition and also support groups at the Christie Center … has been a really significant part of managing my grief,” she said.
Additionally, sharing her mother’s story and how she feels let down by the healthcare system is important to her, as well, stating that she often questions how it can better protect and serve people with multiple illnesses — mental and physical — like her mother.
Since her mother’s passing, Arthur has celebrated her engagement, but the realization that she will be absent from an important milestone has been difficult: “I feel that absence everywhere. I can’t call my mom. I can’t just call her to talk. She’s not going to be at my wedding. She’s not going to hold any future grandchildren, if that happens. I don’t get to see her grow old. It’s just changed everything.”
Other changes include her career goals, which has since shifted to bring more resources to Hays County.
“I still feel guilty and there are still the ‘What ifs.’ I’m still very much in it. But it’s just constantly reminding yourself that it is what it is. We can’t go back and we can’t change anything,” she concluded.
David also felt a need to aid in advocacy. One way he was able to do this was by beginning Products for Peyton. This began after remembering that, when staying at the Ronald McDonald House Charities of Central Texas, his family received a bag filled with shampoo, conditioner and other toiletries.
Similarly, David mentioned that he met a woman who jumped in the STAR flight helicopter after her daughter had been injured at Inks Lake State Park. When she arrived, receiving the pack full of toiletries was one less task that she had to worry about, especially since she was without transportation in a city 100 miles away.
He then began collecting these items and the project “took off.” Soon, donations filled up his school office and they were able to gift the items to the charity in Peyton’s name.
In 2015, David was approached with an opportunity to raise awareness about suicide by using Peyton’s name and story; thus, began the Peyton Heart Project.
The nonprofit places handmade hearts representing lives lost to suicide in public places around the world for people to find and learn about.
Carla, on the other hand, was dealing with a different emotion from losing her partner: “I had a lot of anger. In the beginning, I felt bad for him, but I also was like, ‘Gosh darn. You’ve left me with this big old mess. We have kids, we have a home and this is not what I signed up for. I’ve been in this marriage 22 years, through all your ups and downs and you didn’t hang in there,” said Carla.
According to the Mayo Clinic, this is a common experience, as some may be angry with their loved ones from feeling abandoned or left behind, along with denial, bargaining, depression and acceptance.
This feeling, along with the fact that many family members — and even Carla herself — felt as though she might not have survived her husband’s depression, has often filled her mind.
Ten years later
In the 10 years since losing his son, David continues to miss his son, but by staying active with The Peyton Heart Project, he has also found solace in educating others.
“For so long, suicide was a dirty little secret. People would isolate themselves … Doing something like that, where I can talk to people who are going through something similar, just sharing Peyton’s story and helping others, that’s what helps me.”
A part of Peyton’s story is that David and his family took what many would classify as the necessary steps to help their son. According to David, his son would regularly tell his parents that he wanted to take his own life: “[We] got him into counseling. They started on medication and everything seemed to be getting better. Then, one day — he had ADHD and anxiety, depression — just that one bad day where everything kind of welled up and he made that decision.”
Because of this, and his 30 years as an educator, David notes that education is important: “There are still people out there who believe that if you talk about it, it’s going to put the idea into somebody’s head. It’s already there … Not talking about it is not going to make it go away … A lot of people that take their own lives don’t want to die. They are just in such horrendous psychological pain, which can manifest itself in physical pain.”
The advice that David suggests to those who have suffered a similar experience is to get active.
“You’re not going to bring your child back, unfortunately. It’s just a fact; your child is gone. Their body is gone, but their memory is not. What can you do to keep their name alive, to keep their memory going?”
In the years after her husband’s death, Carla’s healing continued, but she realizes that one of her children is struggling and attributes this to losing his father. Despite this, she explained that, while before she felt anger at her husband for leaving, she now feels bad about all that he has missed.
Eighteen years later
Eighteen years after her partner’s death, Carla believes that she has moved on: “I’m independent; I’m self-sufficient. I’m selfconfident, very strong and those are not traits of me that I never had before this happened, but they’re definitely stronger and I’m more empowered,” noting that now she knows that can withstand anything.
The biggest lesson she learned was that anything can happen to anyone. She stated that before her husband’s death, she categorized suicide as something that happened to other people, not herself.
She explained that when it comes to losing a spouse to suicide, it’s important to not blame oneself: “All of us did the best that we could to support that person. It’s very draining living with somebody who has these issues, but I did my best. I suspect that most other people are doing their best to be supportive, but ultimately, it’s out of your control if that person decides to take their own life,” a realization that allowed Carla to stay guilt free throughout her healing journey.
The event
The International Survivors of Suicide Loss Day event will be held from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. on Nov. 23 at the Kyle Public Library, located at 550 Scott St., with coffee and snacks beginning at 10:30 a.m.
“The Saturday before Thanksgiving each year is the designated day, as the holidays can be particularly difficult for survivors. For some loved ones, the loss may have been many years in the past, for others more recent, yet all are welcomed and encouraged to take that step in attending. This event is designed to support those who experienced a suicide loss and I would like to clarify that it is not for by-standers or those interested in learning about suicide. There are other programs and services offered throughout the year to meet those needs. Survivor Day, the Saturday before Thanksgiving, is all about support,” said Kenneth Elliott, co-founder of the Hays-Caldwell Suicide Prevention Coalition.
The panel aims to provide honest and compassionate support messages from a real-life perspective.
Older teens may attend if accompanied by a parent or guardian, but, due to the sensitive topic, children are encouraged to not attend.
When asked why she believed this event is important, Carla stated that this is the first time she has spoken publicly about her experience, but that she hopes to encourage others to continue on in life.
Similar to Carla, this is Arthur’s first time on a panel, but she hopes to encourage others to start the conversation surrounding suicide and destigmatize the experience: “It affects so many people, but you never know how many people it affects until you’re in that space … [I want] to help show people that there is healing and community and remind people that there is strength in seeking help and then, allowing yourself to be vulnerable, even if it’s scary.”
“A lot of times, we forget those who are left behind,” began David “For the people that are left behind so often, they beat themselves up. ‘What could I have done? It’s my fault. I should have seen this; I should have seen that.’ People need to understand that it’s not their fault … It’s okay to mourn; it’s okay to talk about it publicly. I think it’s important that people understand that losing someone to suicide is no better, no worse than losing someone to cancer or a heart attack,” concluded David.
“Part of the Hays-Caldwell Suicide Prevention Coalition’s mission statement reminds our community that ‘you are not alone’ and that ‘you matter,’ so please reach out to someone. This is especially needed and true during the holiday season. When it comes to supporting survivors who lost someone to suicide, it really requires a village. It takes all of us and we really are all in this together,” said Elliott.
If you or someone you know is struggling with mental health or in crisis, help is available. Call or text 988 or chat at 988lifeline.org. Other options of support include setting up an appointment with Hill Country Mental Health and Developmental Disabilities Centers, or any counseling service, calling Hill Country MHDD at 877466-0660 or texting HOME to 741741 for a crisis text line.
