I lost my son, Thomas, to suicide in 2006. We were celebrating my husband's birthday and went out for a quick errand. When we got back, the house was quiet and cold. I knew what had happened before we even found his body. I loved my son. He was my best friend. We did everything together, but since he had Asperger's Syndrome, a form of autism, the rest of the world hated him and treated him very cruelly. They hit him, spat on him, touched him inappropriately, and teased him until it was finally too much for him to bear.

People who are going to kill themselves and who really mean to kill themselves--not the ones who are looking for help, but the ones who really mean it--do NOT demonstrate any signs. There is only ONE SIGN that someone is going to kill him or herself--a dead body. That's it.

I am thankful for the 24 years, 2 months, 26 days I got to spend with my son. I just wish it could have been longer. And I wish the world didn't feel so much hatred and revulsion for those who are different. My son was the finest person I've ever known, and now he is gone.