There may be no simple explanation for the tragedy of Monageer other than the propensity of our species occasionally to act irrationally, suggests Tony Bates.
In the past week I have been asked twice by the media to try and shed some light on human tragedies of staggering proportions. First there was the massacre in Virginia, and now the death of an entire family in Monageer.
Both of these events involved violence in the context of some form of mental health crisis. It seems reasonable therefore to ask so-called "mental health experts" to make sense of what happened or at least to offer some insights that may ensure these tragedies might never happen in the future.
But let me declare from the outset, particularly in relation to the Dunne family, I am as shocked as any of you and I don't know why this happened.
I believe this story will unfold in the coming weeks and months and that we may gradually achieve some understanding of what occurred and put in place protections within our communities to reduce the likelihood of it happening again.
But there are no simplistic explanations for the above tragedies and there are no guarantees that we can rid our world of irrational, unpredictable, heart-stopping shocks. The best we can hope for is that these traumas reveal to us more clearly how complex and fragile we are as a species and how we need to respond more effectively as a community to those in extreme distress, before their desperation carries them beyond our reach.
The community in Monageer will never be the same again. A sudden trauma like the death of the Dunne family is an overwhelming experience that breaks all the rules and generates intense anxiety.
In addition to their experience of loss for each person who died, and died needlessly, they will experience a loss of trust and safety in the world. How can they, or any of us, be sure that this won't happen in our own family? The world they wake up to every day, with its normal ups and downs, has become dangerously unpredictable. The absence of some easy explanation that would help to make this tragedy bearable adds enormously to their sense of loss of control.
People need enormous care in the aftermath of trauma. For most of us, in the days following a crisis, our greatest need is for comfort. Analysis can come later.
What we need at this time are opportunities for connecting with one another and extending emotional and practical support wherever we can. The more that a community can share their experience of shock and loss with one another, the greater their chance of working through the shock and not allow it to tear them apart.
In time, there will be questions to ask and reflect upon. What really happened within this family to bring about such horror? Were there early warning signs that could have been picked up on and responded to more constructively?
We can ask these questions with the goal in mind of finding someone to blame, or we can ask them in order to discover ways of improving our systems of care within each community. It is tempting to find a scapegoat and lay the responsibility for all that happened at some individual's or agency's door. I sense we do this more to avoid facing the truth that human beings are far more prone to irrational behaviour than any of us would care to acknowledge; that life is full of shocks and that there is no guaranteed way for any of us to stop the pain.
What we can do is to acknowledge this truth and provide supports for people to engage with and work through tough times.
The southeast has had more than its share of tragedies, notably deaths by suicide. As a consequence it has established a wealth of services and counselling facilities each committed to suicide prevention in their own particular way.
The Dunne family was visited by a number of individuals and agencies in the days before the tragedy. Concern was raised by the priests in particular and communicated to others. But perhaps in this situation, these caring initiatives needed back-up support from specialist services which might have brought relevant expertise to complement their efforts.
What we may learn from this tragic incident is that there is a role for flexible, outreach, teams in our services that can be mobilised to support community workers and families where there is a mental health crisis. When people feel at their lowest, it is often the time they are least able to leave their home and seek help from statutory agencies.
Outreach or homecare teams are a standard feature of mental health services in many countries. They are described and recommended in our mental health policy A Vision for Change. Undoubtedly, we will be grappling with the questions raised by this crisis for some time. Individuals, communities, and services will be asking hard questions and generating ideas for building more caring communities.
Hopefully this will lead to a deeper appreciation that everyone has something to give, and that working together in an integrated way enhances our capacity to bring care and support to those who need it the most.
Tony Bates is the founder director of Headstrong, the national centre for youth mental health