Having all suffered the same terrible loss, we had to do something
Kim McCarthy, 55, from Northampton
I rocked 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 walked, laughed, cried and supported each other
‘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
