Please note: the following story contains references to suicide that may be upsetting to some readers.
When remembering her beloved husband, Si, Kim Wheatley recalls a funny and loving dad to his three sons, a loyal friend to colleagues and a dedicated firefighter who had a great passion for his work.
However, she says he also hid moments of inner turmoil from those around him, and would often shut himself off as he dealt with ongoing anxiety.
Tragically, Si took his own life in May 2023.
Now, Kim is opening up about the months leading up to his death, and how she’s coped with her grief since, in the hopes she’ll encourage others in the fire service who may be facing mental health challenges to reach out for help – something she deeply wishes Si had done.
“Si was a complex man – he was funny, really funny, a jokester and family man. He was fun to be around and had the type of personality that just meant people were drawn to him,” says Kim.
“He was also operational to the core. A Breathing Apparatus enthusiast, he knew every policy inside out, which sometimes came off as arrogance! But beneath that confidence lay hidden anxiety. While he appeared lively and cheerful, he struggled deeply inside, feeling unable to seek help.
“At work with West Midlands Fire and Rescue Service, Si thrived, confident and assured especially on an incident ground. But this façade often crumbled at home. He was sensitive and often doubted his friendships, needing to talk through his day to reassure himself.”
Kim says, despite these challenges, they always remained very open with each other – and as she had previously been a paramedic herself, their shared emergency services careers helped them to talk and share their concerns.
“We knew that when one of us came home from a night shift and we just didn’t want to talk or something had happened, we just understood that need for space, but also that willingness to talk when we needed to,” adds Kim. “And that was always quite strong in our relationship.”
The couple faced a lot of heartache over the years, including five miscarriages, and Kim says: “Each loss was devastating for us both and Si struggled with the weight of his grief.
“Though he showed many sides of himself to a few people, he kept his vulnerabilities hidden. And despite being offered help through the Fire Fighters Charity, he felt others deserved it more and didn’t process his own trauma.
“Now looking back, I think ‘why didn’t you just use it?’ I don’t know if it was pride, maybe being seen as weak if he had to accept the help, but it’s one thing that I always wonder… if he would have reached out, if he would have got the help, would things have been different?”
Kim and Si went on to welcome a son together, Oliver, who’s brother to Si’s two older sons from a previous relationship. And she says they enjoyed a new partnership in that first year, often bouncing off each other as they shared parenting responsibilities.
But Si continued to live with mental health challenges which, Kim says, he remained reluctant to seek help for.
“He really struggled with his mental health. I think it was only ever when he was depressed, when he really hit the bottom, that that sort of depression would turn into anger,” she says.
“There were signs that he was going through difficulties, but he was someone who you couldn’t make talk if he didn’t want to talk. Then when he was ready, he would, so that makes it quite hard to have a conversation about mental health.
“He was very good at keeping his life in boxes and only letting people see in one, maybe two. Keeping the others hidden, with his façade of being a joyful and carefree, in control man.”
Kim says she’d noticed Si was retreating from those around him again last year, but couldn’t have ever expected he’d harm himself.
“He was going through a really difficult patch at the time, and kept asking for space,” she adds. “And I think that’s one of the things that I’ll always take with me… he asked for space and I gave him space, and I shouldn’t have done, I should have made him talk.
“I remember he left the house on May 7th – it was Coronation weekend – and gave us a hug. He said, ‘I’m sorry’, and gave us a kiss on the cheek. I thought it was odd, but I didn’t really think much of it because we’d only just been talking about Bank Holiday weekend and all the things we were going to do on the Monday.
“He wasn’t there at bedtime, and that was odd because even if we were arguing for whatever reason, he would always ring to speak to Oliver. So that’s when the alarm bells started to go off.
“I spoke to the police and they weren’t really worried because he would quite often walk if he needed space. Simon would walk for hours.
“And so it was the next night when he didn’t come home for bedtime again I thought, ‘no, this isn’t right’. And that’s when I rung the police again. They came straight out and unfortunately, a few hours later, we found him.”
Kim adds: “Hours after his death, I had to care for our 1-year-old son, unsure how to explain his absence, not wanting to believe the truth but now facing a life of being a lone parent navigating my own grief with that of our son. I genuinely thought I would never be able to stand straight again.
“My sister lives in London and my mum in Wales, and they both travelled straight up. I also called a good friend of mine who’s a vicar. I just felt I needed him there for some reason.
“I went through a really hard time in January, trying to get used to the life cards that I’ve been dealt, and because I’m on my own with Oliver, just the two of us, it got to the point where I didn’t really know what else to do.
“I guess my biggest support since then has been charities, including the Fire Fighters Charity.”
We remained in touch with Kim after Si’s death and she was offered a space on our Child and Family Programme, for her and her son. Since then, she’s also been on another one dedicated to single parents – and she says both have offered her a much-needed break, and valuable support.
“These weeks have helped me find solace among others with young children facing their own struggles,” says Kim.
“Being at home is tough so for me, coming away was quite scary because you don’t have everything set up like you do at home… but when you come and even just getting to your bungalow, there’s tea, there’s coffee and there’s a pint of milk in the fridge. You don’t even have to do a thing. It’s little things like that that just make it feel special.
“Often the Fire Service talk about themselves as a family – the charity was no different we just helped each other. At this point I was barely functioning, but those around me just helped. Witnessing the community within the fire service reinforced my belief in the need for mental health support, especially after losing so many firefighters to suicide.”
Kim now wants to encourage anyone reading her story to reach out for help – and wants to highlight our 24/7 Crisis Line – 0300 373 0896.
“As I navigate this journey, I aim to honour Si’s memory by encouraging those in emotional turmoil to seek the help they deserve. It’s called the ‘Fire Fighters Charity’, so why as firefighters are you not seeking assistance?” says Kim.
“I wish Si had prioritised self-care during his career. The reason I can reach out to the charity is because of the work and years he put in, but why didn’t he use it?
“I feel that the problem is getting active firefighters to get help when they need it. It is a different type of job and it takes a particular type of person. They have to be emotionally tough, but what worries me is that emotional toughness stops them getting the help that they need.
“If you or your partner are struggling, ask for help, because take it from someone who knows what it’s like when it’s too late… I would have accepted a week of him being away with likeminded men and women, each with the same sarcastic dark humour he had, and maybe, just maybe, he would still be here today.”
If you feel you’d benefit from our health and wellbeing support, you can call our Support Line on 0800 389 8820, make an enquiry online or visit the ‘Access Support’ tab in My Fire Fighters Charity.
And remember – if you’re feeling suicidal, you can call our Crisis Line 24 hours a day on 0300 373 0896.