Talking about Suicide: Getting to Know a Suicide Victim’s Heart

“I have a doctor appointment at 11 for medication and setting up counseling for me in Willmar. This is all mostly because I don’t know how to be around people. I’m such a loner and struggle in groups of people and just completely shut down.”

“I took the week off just to think and try to eat. I have zero energy for anything. Monday going back to work will help. I’ll be in my head a little less. And who knows, maybe the medication they put me on will be fast acting and push me along further. I’ve wanted to do this for 3 years, I just haven’t.

“I’m the quietest fighter you will ever see. My faith is not just huge, it’s kept me alive. The one thing about faith is that your situation doesn’t matter. I was soooooo far gone. I cried for years asking how I ever came back from a liter a day/case a day addiction. It was like coming back from the dead. When you have such a severe problem as alcoholism, to even keep my daily prayer for others through my own problems was hard. But I have to though. All I can do is take these steps and see where it leads.”

“I’ve been catching up with my boys. I’ve always been around, but not around. You know what I mean. It’s been sooo good for me and them. You know with all the research I do that taking any medication is difficult for me. I’m also smart enough to know not every single med is bad. I’m trusting God with my meds too. My faith is massive, you know that.”

My brother sent a series of text messages, as he did on a daily basis. The above messages are from him spanning February 9-10th, 2023, just 1 month and 11 days before he left us. It’s amazing that the man who taught me how powerful our words can be, is now the one who has motivated me to use my words. He was always my #1 cheerleader walking side-by-side with my mother. Even now I can see his cute smile and nod telling me how proud he is of me; pushing me forward to write and pursue other dreams where my writing can lead. I think his two favorite words when texting were “faith” and “lol”. A combination of his massive love for Jesus and his family, along with an “lol” to lighten the mood and not cause worry. He communicated on a daily basis, and more often than not he was the one trying to build me up when I battled hardship and depression. He never showed weakness, only strength through our daily conversations. He never wanted to say too much so as for his family to feel burdened. I hope he knew that he was never a burden; when I think of him I think of strength and guts and grit to wake up each day and battle what was going on in his head.

The Crisis Moment Does not Define the Victim’s Heart

He battled alcoholism since a teenager and he had just recently celebrated 3 years of sobriety, or Aussie liked to track by the month, over 36 months sober. I believe he counted it by the month because when you beat addiction it’s a day by day win; years just seem don’t seem to take into account the daily battles. Over the span of his beautiful 37 years with us, he did cause worry but I think what hurts the most is that we all believed he was at his strongest point in his life. He had grown so close to his Lord. He believed so strongly that the Lord would carry him through, and he was the ultimate example of outward faith. In fact, when he was going through his most recent personal hurts he would get on his knees, crawling through the small space within his basement and put a battery-powered radio on playing Christian music underneath the bedroom where his family slept. And when the batteries would die, he would crawl back under and replace them. He welcomed the Holy Spirit into his home on a daily basis.

Have you ever been a part of a sermon where they do an altar call at the end? A call to you to ask God into your heart if you never have before? How many of you have said this prayer? How many of you feel that God has been invited into your heart? Still, to this day, every time I hear an altar call, I still feel like I need to invite Him into my heart. I know I am forgiven and I am His child but I think this just goes to show the importance of inviting God into our heart every single day, through every single moment good or bad. I believe my brother was living his life for God; his actions and words prior all had shown me that. But he had a moment or a day or a few days where I believe he was deceived by the hurt and ugliness of this world and forgot to invite Jesus into his day. We will never know how long his crisis moment lasted, but I assure you that not one person who loved my brother has defined him by that moment. It was the person he was, even through mistakes, throughout his 37 years that has left a resounding mark on our hearts.

Tall, handsome, quiet, generous, soft, a lover of people and especially the underdogs, smart, an intellectual thinker, a believer, a dreamer, a friend, a brother, a husband, a son, a mighty man of integrity. He let his heart lead him through life, and the stigma of suicide more often times than not gives our world the impression that the victim was weak. I am here to debunk that. I am here to advocate for a new way of thinking. I am here to share a suicide victim’s heart. I am here to share how us suicide survivors grieve, what can get us to not only survive but thrive.

Almost 4 weeks after we buried my brother, I was awoken to this “I was tired of letting him get all the way down to the bottom of the mountain, just to have to battle so hard to get back up”. No where in the bible does it talk about suicide as an unforgiveable sin, and I am here to share how by the grace of God our family is climbing back up this mountain on behalf of Austin. There is no expert or doctrine out there that can take away the peace I feel about my brother’s last moments and who met him at the bottom. This may be a difficult concept for some, but I have learned in my short time as a suicide survivor that the stigma placed on suicide is slowly collapsing. And it will continue to collapse, word by word, through the sharing of this type of solitary grief. I am thankful for brave and strong family members who are willing to share the raw and real. I pray you get to know my brother as well as I did. I pray that to know a victims heart is to knock down another myth and preconception surrounding suicide.

Aussie’s Story

Taken from the service program honoring my sweet brother….thank you to my cousin Calista for capturing our words and putting them so beautifully on paper.

When Aussie entered the room, his gleaming smile spoke the loudest. His presence brought a wave of comfort, and when he spoke, his words carried a depth of compassion. To Aus, it was not about how much you could say, but the meaning that came with what you said. A man of deep thought with a servant heart, oh how he had a servant heart. His faith, his family, his friends, he always had time for you. There was no reason to rush.

Austin Curtis Bergerson blessed this world with his presence on August 14th, 1985. A sweet, resilient baby boy with peach fuzz hair, one look at him and his parents knew he was a remarkable gift from God. Being the only son with three sisters who adored him, Aussie’s heart only grew to be more tender and soft. His mama’s gentle giant, often seen side-by-side with his dad, his love for his parents knew no end. It was his parents, their names forever etched in his forearms. He will always be their perfect son.

From hearing his excited, high-pitched voice as he played Nintendo to riding the lawnmower through town, Aussie embraced his childhood. Austin was always a dreamer, an adventurous spirit. In 2006, he ventured to Mesa, Arizona, to chase his love for music by going to school for Audio Engineering. If Aus wanted to learn something, he would immerse himself into it and research until he knew every detail. Then you could expect him to share with you everything he had learned. The joy he had when learning was inspirational.

Shortly after returning from Arizona, Austin moved to Moorhead, MN. One thing is for sure, Austin created family wherever he went. His love for children ignited when he began working at the Fargo Youth Commission. Throughout Austin’s journey, his heart repeatedly brought him back home to his family.

One of Austin’s biggest dreams was to build a family and a home for himself. When he met his wife, he put all his energy into building the love and life he desired. God blessed them with three beautiful sons. His dream came true, to be a loving husband and father.

If you walked into their home, you would see Aus nestled up lounging with his boys. A faith-filled father, he taught his boys to get on their knees to pray and to pray everyday. Austin especially loved hockey, his favorite was watching #14 play, his oldest son. His middle son was a spitting image of his dad, and they both shared a love for learning. The youngest found comfort in his daddy’s lap, always reaching for his hand or in between the layers of his shirts. A lover of candy, chips, smoothies, and specialty coffees, it was the simple pleasures, the small joys that meant the most to him, like snacks with the kids.

Aus was proud to work for his dad at Bergerson Construction. His dad may have taught him how to build a house, but Austin taught us all how to build a life of love, a life serving God, and a life caring for and listening to others. His empathetic heart had a way of carrying other people’s feelings and emotions along with his own. All the beautiful stuff about him is what made him fragile, too. In a conversation he had with a close friend, he had shared in his own words what he wanted the world to look like. “I’ve been a servant of God my entire life. I want every single person I know not to suffer. I want nothing but the people I care about to live and thrive. I want the biggest revival of God the world has ever seen. I want love throughout the entire world. I want a miracle only God can provide…for every person on earth to be united and happy.”

If you had an Austin in your life, you knew he loved you. He left a big impact on those who knew him. You’ll never find another Aus, and we all hope he knew that. We hope he knew his worth and that he was so loved.