Yesterday morning I was sitting at the breakfast table, sipping chai tea when I received a text message from my mother saying, “Let me know when you’re up and around.” A pang of fear punched me in the stomach for a moment. I thought, “Grandma must have passed away.” She’s been sick for a long time, my grandmother, and we’ve all expected her to pass at any moment. I sat with the thought for a moment, and decided that it was OK if she was gone–it was time.
I texted my mother back saying, “I’m up and having breakfast.” A moment or two later my phone rang. I picked up.
“Good morning, Mom,” I said.
My mother’s voice was grave, “I have some bad news,” she said.
“OK,” I replied.
“It’s really bad,” she said.
That pang in my stomach was back. Maybe it wasn’t about my grandmother. “What is it?” I asked.
“Ian killed himself,” she said.
My lungs forgot how to take in air for a moment. Ian was my cousin. I’d grown up with him. My eyes welled up with tears and I sobbed in a breath. Tears ran down my cheeks. A moment later I recovered myself enough to ask for details, but everything I learned made me feel worse.
I thought of my aunt, Ian’s mother, and of Ian’s brother. Their hearts must be broken. I cried for them. I thought about how much pain my cousin must have been in that he felt that death was the only escape, and I cried for his pain. I thought of the rift in our family caused by suicides–this is not the first one–and I cried for that great gaping hole of loss. I thought about what it must feel like to lose a sibling, and felt a surge of love for my brother and my sister, and sent them a message telling them how important they are to me. I don’t say it enough.
I called my friend, Jessica, and she listened to me while I cried, and then suggested we meet at the mall. So, I took my feelings shopping. I’m not ashamed. Later on, I met up with another friend for wine and conversation. I am so grateful for my support system. I love you so much.
I have experienced suicide from all angles, and possess a knowledge of it’s intricacies that few people do.
As a therapist, every day I ask the question, “Are you having thoughts of killing yourself?” It is a question that most people fear to speak out loud, but it has lost its power over me. I say it without even thinking–like most people ask about the weather. Much of the time people say no when I ask this question. But they say yes more often than you might think. An unexpectedly large portion of the population walk around thinking that they would prefer to be dead. I believe this is a symptom of just how sick our society truly is. We need to be kinder to each other. We need to show each other more compassion. We need to learn to love ourselves more. I do my best to guide people towards love.
What I don’t tell these people is that I truly understand their pain and their hopelessness, because I have been there myself. During the worst part of my illness, a neurologist told me that there was nothing more to be done for me, and that I would, “just get better with time.” I was so ill that I was completely unable to function. I couldn’t eat, keep food down, sleep, think straight. Over the course of a few months I had gone from a vibrant and self-reliant woman who loved to dance to the kind of person that the nurses recognized as a frequent flyer in the emergency room. I didn’t have time. I was dying and it was taking too long, and hearing that there was nothing more to be done nearly put me over the edge.
I had a plan. I would go to the beach, take a handful of the random pills doctors had prescribed to me and swim out into the ocean, never to return to land. I even drove to the beach and parked there a few times, but I didn’t get out of the car. I kept thinking about what it would do to my mother. I thought, “Let’s give it a month and see if I feel better.”
Miraculously, I did feel better. Only a little bit, but enough to give me hope. And then the next month I felt still better, and so on. I am healthy again, and living a full life.
While I wish I never had to go through that hopelessness, I’m glad that I gained that insight into suicidal thoughts. It makes me a better therapist. I can truly empathize with the feeling that death is the only way out.
Usually, however, it’s not true. Usually, there is another way.
When people are in the depths of severe depression, their minds tell them things that aren’t true. These thoughts are symptoms of severe depression in just the same way that fever and chills are symptoms of the flu. These thoughts do not reflect reality or truth, but they feel like they do, and people are so uninformed about the symptoms of depression that they often mistake these thoughts as truth when they are really just symptoms.
One of the things that Depression says is, “Death is the only way out of this pain.” Unless you are terminally ill, this thought is a lie. If you wait, the pain passes. This thought is a symptom of depression and nothing more. Don’t believe it. Get help.
Another thing that Depression says is, “The people in your life will be better off without you. You are a burden to them.” This is also a lie. The people in your life love you and want you to be in the world. They would rather help and support you through a depression than lose you to suicide. I promise you that.
Lastly, Depression likes to say, “The people in your life will be OK with your suicide. They might be sad for a bit, but they’ll get over it and go on with their lives as before.” I have had intimate therapeutic conversations with the family members of people who have suicided, and I know that they mourn the loss for the rest of their lives.
Depression lies. Do not believe it.
If you have been having suicidal thoughts, please get help. Go to your nearest emergency room, call 911, make an appointment with a therapist, or call a suicide hotline. There are many, but the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is 24 hours per day, and the number is 800-273-8255.
If you are the family member of a suicidal person, please take their suicidal thoughts seriously. You would be shocked by how many suicidal clients have shared that they told a family member about their suicidal thoughts in an effort to get help, only to have their family member tell them “to just do it already,” or that they are “just trying to get attention.” I promise this is not true. It may make you feel safer to believe that it’s just an attention-seeking behavior, but it’s not.
If someone you love tells you that they are having suicidal thoughts, take them seriously. Help them to get to the emergency room, call 911 for a welfare check, help them make a therapy appointment, or call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline number above. It is better to be safe than very, very sorry.
My heart is heavy with loss, but I’m sending love and healing out into the world. If you need it, I hope that you feel it. Take care of each other.