Why You Need to Talk About Suicide

Every once in a while, something will happen in the news that will bring the issue of depression and suicide to the forefront of everyone’s mind. Most recently, this news has been the death of Linkin Park singer Chester Bennington.

Bennington killed himself on July 20 after a lengthy and somewhat public battle with depression. And none of us can judge the choice that he made, or think any worse of him because of it. Even those of us who have dealt with depression and suicidal thoughts before do not know what his precise situation was or what he was going through. I wish his loved ones all the best, and I truly hope that he has found peace now.

But all that being said, we do need to talk about suicide. And not because Bennington killed himself. Not because it’s a trendy topic to pass around now. Because there are still people out there who are considering taking their own lives even now, and those people need someone to reach out to them.

Suicide is an awkward topic of conversation for many people, and it can be hard to approach someone who you know and love and ask them, “are you considering killing yourself?” Unless we have dealt with suicidal thoughts ourselves, we tend to think of it as something foreign, as something other, as something that can’t touch the people we care about, but it very much can, and it’s not as strange or unusual as you might think. In fact, according to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, on average there are 121 suicides per day. The only reason why we don’t think of it as common is because we just don’t talk about it.

We are told, indirectly, that we should not talk about it. We don’t want to come forth because we don’t want anyone to worry about us, we don’t want to burden them with something that they don’t have to deal with. I know that when I was dealing with suicidal thoughts, one of the main reasons why I didn’t want to tell anybody about it was because then they’d think that I was going to kill myself, and I didn’t want to be thought of as a risk. We as a society hold such a huge stigma against mental illness and thoughts of self harm that we silence people who are actually dealing with them, people who don’t want to be perceived as weak or risky or bothersome or attention-seekers. And so, silenced, they deal with these thoughts on their own. They mull over these thoughts within a mind that is already ill, already enforcing beliefs that are not true, and so it isn’t at all surprising when they come to the worst conclusion.

The more that we talk about depression and suicidal thoughts, the more that we are willing to approach someone who we think might be dealing with either illness, the more that people who are dealing with them will feel comfortable talking about it themselves. We need to talk about depression and suicidal thoughts because talking about it could quite literally save lives.

And if you are a person dealing with depression and suicidal thoughts, then you deserve to have your life saved. You deserve to be listened to and loved and understand, and you deserve to live a long and fulfilling life. You deserve all the amazing things this world can offer to you.

And I understand that, if you are dealing with depression and suicidal thoughts, then you might not believe that right now. The problem with these illnesses is that they cause your mind to lie to you, to tell you things that aren’t true and skew your perception of the world. You see everything through the lens of your thoughts, like that old line about seeing the world through rose coloured glasses except the exact opposite. Your illness tells you that the world would be better off without you and that you don’t matter, but you need to know that that is a lie. You do matter. You matter so much that I don’t even have words to fully encompass it. And if you were to die, then your loved ones – friends, family, pets, maybe even that neighbour who says hello to you every morning and has come to depend on your smile and wave, they would all care. I would care. With you gone, there would be a great hole in the world that can never truly be filled.

But let’s ignore all of that for a moment, because I know that your depression and suicidal thoughts might be contradicting everything I just said: you simply deserve to live for your own sake. No one else’s. You deserve a chance to find something that makes you happy. You deserve a chance to feel the sun on your face again. You deserve a chance to chase your dreams and maybe see them come true, to fall in love with someone new (or someone old again) and to build a whole new life, different from the one you’re leading now. Because the only thing constant in this world is that things change, and maybe you aren’t happy with where you are now, but maybe you will be one, two, ten years from now. Maybe you’ll look back on this day and find it difficult to believe that that was you, that you ever felt this way. Don’t you at least deserve the chance to know if that’s true? Life, after all, is full of possibilities, while death is so final.

And maybe your depression will never fully go away, and maybe your life will never be entirely perfect, but pain can be dealt with. You can learn to live, not defined by your pain, but existing alongside of it, understanding and respecting it but not run solely by it. I know that I may never be completely rid of my depression, as it’s something that I’ve dealt with on and off for as long as I can remember, but that doesn’t mean that my life isn’t worth living. Quite the opposite, actually; the moments of pain and emptiness make the moments of joy and fulfillment all the more spectacular.

And if I can give you a bit of advice right now, since we’re talking about depression and suicide, I would say that you need to keep talking about it. Reach out to someone – a friend, a family member, a therapist, a doctor, a diary, a stranger on the internet, a suicide crisis line, your pet gerbil, whatever might make you feel comfortable. Because an amazing thing happens when you start to talk: you are no longer dealing with everything on your own. There is someone else in this world who knows how you feel, who can be there for you and make you feel like you aren’t alone. And sometimes, when you can hear or read your own thoughts expressed outside of yourself, you might even begin to realize that the things your depression have been saying to you are lies. And as much as it might be difficult to make yourself un-believe them, the first step in overcoming them is at least identifying them as lies.

Whenever anybody takes their own life, celebrity or not, it is always a great tragedy. It is someone who has succumbed to an illness that they could no longer control, and that is always a huge loss in this world. But so long as you are still alive, you still have a chance, and you still have control. You can reach out and talk to someone, you can seek help in dealing with your illness. In the words of the late Chester Bennington, “I came to a point in my life where I was like, ‘I can either just give up and f****** die or I can f****** fight for what I want,'”, and so long as you are still alive, the fight is not yet over. You are a warrior, you are stronger than you will ever know, and you can beat this. You deserve to beat this – for your loved ones, for the world, and most importantly, for yourself.

Why We Need to Suffer

So life kinda sucks, right?

And I don’t just mean your life. I mean everyone’s life. Every single one of us deals regularly with pain of some sort. We all have our difficulties to face, our dragons to battle. My dragon might be very different from your dragon, but we are united in our struggle nonetheless.

And I think it is fairly needless to say that struggling is… well, hard. Inherently, that is the nature of it; when you’re in pain, it is very difficult to get over, and it is very difficult to see the bright side of it, especially when you’re still in the thick of it. It’s very rare that you hear someone say, “thank you for hurting me, I really needed that,” at least not until years in the future when they’ve had some retrospect on the whole incident and the pain has had its chance to subside.

And more than that, I think that a lot of us tend to have this opinion about pain that it’s something that is better left avoided. We look back on certain choices that we made at the time and regret them, because those were choices that led to pain. We think that we would have been better off if we hadn’t suffered at all. We ask ourselves questions like “why me” and “what did I do to deserve this?”

But the thing about pain at the end of the day is that you need it. Pain is absolutely essential as a part of life and as a method of growth.

And I know, if you are currently in the thick of suffering, you probably hate me for saying that. You probably think that I sound insensitive, and you want to punch me in my stupid, optimistic face. Trust me, I get it; I’ve been in your position.

Throughout most of my life, I suffered from depression and anxiety. I self-harmed, I made plans on how to end my own life, and the only reason why I never really gave up on my life was because my anxiety animated me like a puppet on strings, propelling me forward with the help of nerves and fear. And especially when things were really bad, I often found myself wondering why? I blamed other people, I thought back on certain things that had made my mental illness worse and I wished that I could have avoided them, I was generally upset and bitter about my lot in life. After all, what had I done to deserve this? Why did I have to be born to have a harder time existing in this world at all?

And admittedly, I deal much easier with both illnesses now. I understand what they mean, I know how to cater my thoughts and actions around avoiding panic attacks and bouts of depression, and while it doesn’t always work, it does help. And since I have had an easier time dealing with my mental illnesses, I have come to learn that I am glad I dealt with them.

That’s not to say that I hope I struggle with dealing with them again. That’s not to say that I wish it upon other people, or that there is anything romantic and glamorous about suicidal thoughts and tendencies at all.

All that I am saying is that if I hadn’t dealt with them, if I hadn’t struggled the way that I had, I wouldn’t be the person that I am today. My struggles helped to shape who I am, how I think, what I push myself to do and what I aspire to be. They helped me to better understand when someone else is suffering and how important it is to help them. They made me a more empathetic person, and they made me a much stronger person. Because I have dealt with depression and anxiety, I know what that’s like, and I can use that experience to help someone else who is dealing with something similar. I have the ability to help someone else out by sharing my pain with them.

When you’re trying to make a muscle stronger, you must first cause yourself pain so that your body can repair it. The same is true with mental and emotional strength. If we were constantly happy and comfortable, there would be nothing to overcome. We would take things for granted and accept the world as it was, would make no attempts to make the world or ourselves better.

We need our pain because it is a part of our lives. Our pain takes us on different paths, just as much as our pleasure does. I have known people who used their pain to build a whole life, people who make a career out of helping others in a similar situation. I have known people who learn from pain, who discover how important it is to talk about the suffering that we experience in life and how important it is to not only help other people but to change things. Pain is not a hindrance in our lives; it is our teacher.

So, yes, life sucks. We all must suffer, and maybe that isn’t fair, but who said that life is fair? Beautiful things can still come from pain if we let it. If we focus on making ourselves strong despite pain, rather than allow ourselves to become weaker because of it, then pain can be a wonderful thing. It has so much potential, so long as you stop asking “why me?” and start asking, “what is the lesson in all of this?”

So forgive your pain. Don’t regret experiencing it. Don’t wish that it could have just gone away, because it shouldn’t have. You should have experienced it. After all, it helped form you into the person you are.

Your Reasons For Depression Are Enough

For as long as I can remember, I’ve either suffered from depression or depression-like symptoms. When I was ten years old, I started self-harming, first by digging my nails into my hands, then later by carving scars into my arm. When I was thirteen, I spent a lot of my time thinking about killing myself. When I was eighteen, I felt essentially empty, emotionless, just a shell of a person that walked and talked but didn’t actually resemble an actual human being.

But like a lot of people with depression (or any mental illness, for that matter), I told myself that I couldn’t have been depressed, that depression looked entirely different from what I was experiencing. Depression was something you had to earn a right to through hardship much worse than anything I had ever faced, whereas I was just wrong. I was just off.

Even today, four years after I admitted to myself that I have depression, I still get that feeling from time to time. After reading an article written by a woman who overcame depression after years of childhood sexual abuse and being taken into foster care at the age of ten, my first thought was, “how can I claim to have depression when I haven’t experienced half of what she has?”

And then later that same day, I was talking to someone about their own experiences with depression, and they prefaced their perspective by saying, “I haven’t experienced anything close to the depression that you have, but…” They then went on to explain that when they were depressed, they would simply go back to bed after completing all of the errands that they had no choice but to run, seeing no point in being awake after that – something which I personally never experienced. My anxiety always kept me from going back to bed, even if I wanted to, because no matter how pointless I saw everything, I needed to keep going lest I make myself feel even worse. Whether you see that as a positive or negative is up to you, but it isn’t really the point – my point is that our experiences were different. And from my perspective, I have a very hard time seeing my depression as worse than another person’s because I clawed up my arms instead of going back to bed and giving up on the day.

But I think that that’s a common issue that many people with mental illnesses experience – the belief that your mental illness isn’t enough, that your reason for having it isn’t enough. After all, there’s always going to be someone out there who had it worse than you. No matter what you experienced, no matter what you went through, there’s always going to be someone who went through more.

And perhaps part of the reason for this is that mental illnesses like depression manifest themselves in different ways. Some people have an easier time hiding it than others. Some people cope with it one way, some another. And for those people who have an easier time hiding it, they’re constantly going to be looking at someone who has a harder time hiding it and wondering, “what right do I have to be depressed? At least I’m not like that!” But it really isn’t about that. It’s the same illness, just two different ways of dealing with it.

And perhaps another reason for this is the fact that it is a relatively common response to someone who has depression to ask, “why do you have depression? You have so much to be happy about!” This response is something that many of us have heard, but it comes from a place of misunderstanding what depression is. Depression is a mental illness. It is a disease of the mind, just as serious and crippling as any physical illness but invisible, more complex. Yes, depression can be set off by some occurrence in your life, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be.

And besides, if you have depression or depression-like symptoms, then you are not wrong. You are not simply off. The way you feel is valid, and it matters, and your reason for feeling that way, whatever it might be, is enough.

And why am I emphasizing this so much? Because it is important to recognize your own depression and to know that it is valid, because that is the only way that you are going to be able to reach out to get help.

As I mentioned, I have experienced depression or depression-like symptoms for as long as I remembered, but until I was able to recognize that that was what I had, that I was not simply ‘off’, I wasn’t able to reach out and ask for help, because I didn’t know how to vocalize it. And once I did know how to vocalize it, I was able to learn about it and find ways to cope with it. Only once I could talk about it without minimizing my perspective was I able to began the healing process.

And when it really comes down to it, pain is not a competition. It is important to help out and sympathize with people who have experienced worse than you have, of course, but the way that you feel is not invalid because someone else has felt worse. I mean, think about it in terms of physical health: why would you minimize and refuse to get help for a broken leg just because someone else had their leg amputated?

So let me leave you with these words: the way you feel is valid. Your reasons for feeling it are enough. And most importantly, you deserve to be happy and healthy and loved because you are an incredible, worthwhile person.

The Door to the Rest of My Life

I found the door to the rest of my life, and it is open.

Now, I am expected to walk through it.

Now I have no choice but to walk through it. It doesn’t matter that I never thought I would get this far. It doesn’t matter that my life was supposed to end several years ago, in a bathtub, in a pool of my own blood. It doesn’t matter that I was born to be a sad story stuffed into the smallest corner of the newspaper: TEENAGE SUICIDE, it was supposed to read, and people were supposed to hear about me and shake their heads and say “what a shame” before moving on, forgetting me.

It doesn’t matter, because it didn’t happen. I’m here. I’m alive. And I will never be a teenage suicide, because I will never be a teenager again.

I’m an adult.

I’m a possibility.

I’m alive. And there’s so much that I can do so long as that remains true.

Because death is so final, and life is ever changing.

I can walk through that door. I can follow the plan that I didn’t have until recently, the plan that I never made when I was young because I was never supposed to get this far. The simple plan: job, move, school, career, maybe get married, maybe be happy, run into problems along the way but always push through them. I can do that now. I can live a life.

And what a strange party it is that I hold for myself, alone, in private. No invitations can be sent out because no one can know the reason why life overwhelms me and thrills me all at once. No one can know why I think it’s a miracle to be alive. If they knew they would worry, but they really shouldn’t because I survived. I made it through. I didn’t kill myself and I won’t kill myself. Instead of cutting into my skin, I fortified it with armour so that when the feeling comes back, I’ll know what to do. I’ll have prepared for this.

And for now, I found the door to the rest of my life, the door that was never supposed to exist in the first place. And I am walking through it.

Thirteen Reasons Why Review

As the entire internet has been talking about Thirteen Reasons Why, I found myself curious to watch it, despite my reservations based off the fact that I knew the book existed growing up and never really had an interest in reading it. I had always sort of figured that it would read like a teacher’s lecture about why bullying is bad and suicide is never the answer. And while I still haven’t read the book, so I can’t say if that’s the case for Jay Asher’s work, that is not what I found in the Netflix television show.

The television show discusses in close and sometimes graphic detail issues such as suicide, bullying, rape, depression, and women’s issues, and I have to admit, I really admire the show for the directions that it sometimes chose to take. I should say, right off the bat, that I really enjoyed this show and could not stop watching it – but more on that later. First, I’m going to list off the parts of the show that I really enjoyed, and the reasons why I would recommend it to others.

The show represents bullying in a very mature and realistic way. The kids who bully Hannah (for the most part) are not one-dimensional bullies who are completely irredeemable: they are either incredibly hurt people who are too busy dealing with their own problems to notice the pain they are simultaneously causing, or they are realistically dumb kids who just don’t think that this is something that can hurt someone. And the way that the show represented either end impressed me hugely: I liked that I cared about many of the bullies, but at the same time understood why they deserved the retaliation that they received. They were neither good nor evil people, they were just people. To a certain extent, even the show’s hero, Clay, is depicted as an imperfect person, as Clay contributes to some of the bullying that goes on at school, and it’s hard to say how much of the extent to which he blames the bullies for Hannah’s death is rational. And on the other spectrum, I enjoyed the way in which simple dumb kids were depicted. There are several scenes throughout the show where characters (particularly male characters) give Hannah very back-handed compliments and genuinely don’t understand when she gets offended, and this feels very realistic to me. This is something that people (women in particular) experience all the time is a society run on a limited definition of beauty, and it was nice to see this expressed in a very realistic way and to have it explained why, exactly, this isn’t okay.

And although the show has received some criticism about the fact that, while showing characters with symptoms of depression, mental illness is never explicitly discussed, I didn’t really mind the way it was portrayed. As someone who has suffered from depression in the past (and who has a tendency to go back to depressive thoughts from time to time), I found that the symptoms of depression were clear enough that I knew what they were trying to convey. And, more than that, it really reminded me of how it felt to have depression but to not realize that you do, and to not have your mental illness recognized by people around you – which, admittedly, mostly happened to me when I was a teenager. And the majority of the characters are teenagers. Teenagers who, repeatedly, have their emotions and issues belittled unintentionally by the adults around them, and the show does a very realistic job of portraying this as well.

These facts about the show has earned it a very special place in my heart, and when I was watching it, I found that I could not look away – both because I was so engrossed in what was watching and because, at some points, I just couldn’t look away. It was like stumbling upon a car crash – you just want to keep watching until you find out what the body count is and how gory they died. There are three scenes in particular that I found to be incredibly graphic – two rape scenes and a depiction of suicide. Thus far, I’ve been praising the show for how realistic their depictions have been, but these three scenes are where I wonder if a line needs to be drawn. Upon completing the show, I found myself feeling emotionally drained and very low, and these three scenes in particular are responsible for that. They are just so graphic, so intimate, and as much as I can see the benefit of that, I can also see the harm for a specific audience.

And more on that, the way that the show treated Hannah’s decision to kill herself was sometimes questionable. Clay, the show’s protagonist and the perspective through which we see most things, believes that Hannah was justifiably driven to suicide through the actions of those around her. They let her down, they are responsible – not her. We do see other perspectives from time to time, including a school councilor who assures Clay that Hannah’s suicide wasn’t his fault and a fellow student who claims that everyone deals with pain and that “suicide is for the weak,” but Clay’s perspective is the one that is given the most weight, and it’s a perspective that I don’t agree with. When someone kills themselves, it is natural to feel like you could have done something more to avoid that outcome, but it is not your fault. It is not your fault. It is not your fault. Everyone deals with pain, and everyone deals with it differently. If someone makes the choice to end their life, it is because they are dealing with overwhelming mental illness. And more than that, it is a choice that they made. It is not your fault. And the fact that they keep working under the assumption that Hannah’s suicide was the fault of anyone else but Hannah seems a little bit unfair. Yes, those who bullied and assaulted her should be held accountable, but her choice to take her own life is a separate action.

Despite my problems with the show, however, I have to say that I really loved it in the end. I loved how fleshed out and realistic the characters were, I love that they took on such important issues, and I loved that they were willing to take risks and be dark when they needed to be. I don’t know if I would recommend this show to everyone, just because of how dark and how graphic it is, but if you think that you can handle it, I would definitely say that it’s worth the watch.