The Suicide of a Nice Guy

Rest in Peace: Tom Niven

The story below my note was republished with permission from Tom Niven's family.

Unfortunately, suicide is something that is familiar to me. In addition to four people that I have known who have taken their lives, I had a firsthand experience ten or so years ago while working in mental health. At a mental health assessment house, one client swallowed 100 Tylenol P.M. pills during one of my shifts. Luckily for me, he hit a wall with a thud which caused me to run back to his room to find him. Long story short, he was taken to the hospital, treated, and saved-that time. Because I never saw him again, I never followed up on what happened to the resident. Nor did I really want to. Not because I felt like I saved a life and wanted to good about myself. On the contrary, the only notion I felt was fear and horror, and the sinking feeling that if I followed up, this guy would have finished the job he started.
Suicide is a mystery only to those who have not experienced it firsthand. Unless in extreme cases of a dramatic occurrence, it generally is not caused by external circumstance. It starts with a genetic predisposition to clinical depression, and is followed by a series of events that snowball into the person making the ultimate decision. Looking back through my former client's case file, I not only saw the path that led him to make his choice, but realized how he thought he had no other choice.
The same type of situation applies to a very nice guy that I knew, Tom Niven. A triathlete loved by many, liked by all.

Depression and tough run of events led to triathlete's deD mise

Two months later, I'm still trying to make sense of a great loss to this athletic community. But unlike other times over the years, when a disease or an accident sadly took away someone we loved, this one was harder to take.

Nice-guy triathlete Tom Niven left this earth a different way. He committed suicide.

The 48 year old left behind a wife, Karen Kistler, family, and many friends. For many of us, it was a shock to hear the news.

All I could think of was this guy I would chat with two or three times a week on the bike path to UCSB who seemed perfectly content, especially when talking about triathlon. When he ran in the dirt, his happy aura made him seem to hover above the ground. But, as we all know, things aren't always as they appear.

In a lengthy phone conversation, his sister-in-law and fellow triathlete, Kristine Finlay, detailed a complex individual who battled depression while loving the sport of triathlon. She added that his main thing was to get others involved in the sport.

"Tom really wanted to help people and share his passion, especially with Karen," Finlay said. "Even though Karen did triathlons before Tom, he gave her the desire to do an Ironman. He got (my significant other) Michael (Simpson) into it. Even his parents did them -- with his mom taking home hardware (trophies).

"We would constantly joke about going to the dark side, because we were so into it. He got me wanting to do an Ironman distance (2.4-mile swim, 112-mile bike, 26.2-mile run) triathlon because he convinced me that doing one was about overcoming obstacles. Whenever we trained, he was a one-man support team. If we went on a run, he would take care of us by loading the car with extra socks and energy drinks whatever other crap people would need."

But the good times didn't last forever. Already having a genetic predisposition to depression, a chain of events in recent years that included the sudden death of a fellow triathlete, professional disappointments in the environmental field, and a crash that left him with a broken collarbone and in constant physical pain, sent Niven into a downward spiral.

"The injury was the catalyst," Finlay said. "His driving force was to help other people and take care of them. After he injured himself, he felt like he didn't have anything to offer anyone anymore and he began to get worse."

In the Lompoc home they moved into in 2006, he isolated himself from friends and family until he ended his life on a Wednesday in late January. Family, friends, co-workers and fellow athletes gathered the next Saturday in Lompoc. At the service, Finlay recalled marveling at how her sister individually thanked each person who attended.

"The support indicated how many people cared and how many people Tom had touched," Finlay said. "The depth of the strength of the people that came was huge. The impact they had would have overwhelmed Tom. It's a shame that he didn't see it. He wouldn't have believed it."

Finlay acknowledged that Niven's death has been tough on the entire family, most especially Kistler. But with the help of a grief counseling class, Karen Kistler is dealing with her grief head on. In an email, she expressed her appreciation to the numerous people who have reached out to her and her family.

"I've been completely bowled over by the outpouring of support that the Niven and Kistler families and I have received," Kistler said. "If Tom had been able to see how many people cared for all of us, maybe he would've chosen a different path.

"What it does show me is that we all have the potential to make a positive difference in each other's lives. I feel that Tom was an epitome of that. He loved to have others experience the joy of exercise and the striving for and reaching a goal, particularly through triathlons. His commitment to others helped a lot of us do things that thought we never could do, like an open water swim, or an Ironman.

"And the community in turn has given back to me way more than I would've ever dreamed. I consider each and every call, e-mail, letter, and visit that I have received to be hands reaching out to me to pull me from the abyss. And I have needed every one as I can not do this journey alone. I cannot even begin to thank everyone for all that's been done for me and my family."