WARNING contains love, anger, sadness, references to suicide, feelings of helplessness, and some criticism of people who hop on and off bandwagons.
I've written this is response to the suicide of Robin Williams. And to the suicide of friends and family of people very close to me who have to relive it a little each time someone famous dies this way. Who have to watch as people who've never given mental health much thought (certainly not the funding for treatment and support) throw back their heads wail "Why!? Why did no one help this person!?". Because that's just self-indulgent bullshit.
I'm going to say something controversial, and some might say wrong or detrimental, about depression. It isn't always about getting help. That's an ego-centered way of looking at a disease, a real honest to goodness illness, that puts the onus on those of us who love the depressed person and also on them, on their failure to get
enough help. I'm not saying therapy, anti-depressants, faith/prayer, 12-step programs, support from family/friends, help-lines, etc. are not helpful or necessary because they are in fact
essential to survival for people who all mentally ill (and I do not use that term as a criticism, in fact I applaud every person who uses it properly to label themselves and their reality).
What I
am saying is that each of us has moments in our lives wherein we fail completely as humans. We fail. We find ourselves doing things, saying things, being in places emotionally that are completely bereft of light. As someone who does not suffer from depression, I survive these moments via the logical knowledge that they are temporary. I believe that the horror will pass and, for me, it does. I know that on the other side of my moments of cheerlessness or wrong doing that I can find solace and recovery and forgiveness. Someone who has the disease of depression cannot. No, they literally can not believe the logic that the awful is only temporary. It is a part of their brain that doesn't work, period. No matter how hard that may be to believe, it does not make on iota less factual. It isn't that they weren't helped enough. It is that in those failing moments it can almost be as if help never happened. Robin Williams is a prime example. He's had help: love, therapy, rehab, programs, success, money, accolades and adoration. But his moment of failure occurred at a time and place where the circumstances led to his death.
I appreciate the posts and tweets on awareness about depression and the message that help is out there. It is vitally important that people know they have options and alternatives to suicide. But sometimes, suicide is the option people choose to resolve a problem to which they cannot find another answer. I don't like it. It makes me so angry that I want to break things and so sad that I want to cry all day. I just don' think it is honest or supportive to those who loved and supported people who've committed suicide to say that with enough help these things wouldn't happen. They would and they will. That's just the ugly awful truth of it. This is a thing that can't ever be totally cured, at least not as long as it continues to be one we don't fully understand emotionally and scientifically. For those left behind, I hope they come to believe that they did all they were capable of doing to help and that the person they loved is no longer in pain. Cold comfort indeed.
