With the loss of Robin Williams, Facebook became riddled with people who do not know how to react to depression, mental illness, suicide, self harm, etc. It's heartbreaking that so few people strive to understand (even though they never will at no fault of their own) mental illness.
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| Robin Williams has always been one of my favorite actors. As a kid, I thought he was funny. As a teen, I saw his true talent. As an adult, I learned of his mental illness and began to look up to him. He was successful, happy, able to function and not defined by his illness. I wanted that. I cried when I heard the news today. I cried because I adore him, but I also cried because we failed him by letting his mental illness overcome home. Don't judge him, people. You don't know how it feels to be in a tortured mind. Instead, learn more about mental illness. We all owe it to those who are suffering from it. The more you don't understand, the more we (as a collective community with mental illness) give up. Because it's hard. We need your help. Rest in peace, Robin. I pray your mind is finally at rest and you are no longer hurting. |
I was asked once again after last night's Facebook post expressing my grief over the loss of an amazing man (above) to explain depression, suicide and cutting from my perspective. It rattled around in my head for a bit because I honestly don't know how to do that. I've tried. I really have.
However, I think it's pertinent that I let everyone that knows me know that I am one of them. Yes, that's right. I'm one of the "crazy ones" (homage to Robin). I have Bipolar Disorder and anxiety (here, educate yourself: Bipolar Disorder and Anxiety). Both have been debilitating on numerous occasions. To the point where picking myself up out of bed was so terrifying and torturous that it didn't happen for days (except the occasional potty break, of course, because otherwise that would be icky). Depression has crippled me in the past to where normal every day functioning was not possible. There's such a pain inside that you do not understand, that has no reason, that just eats at you. When your heart feels like it's falling out of you and you have no way to figure out why or how to make it stop, trying to do anything is inconceivable. It's so much more than just "picking yourself up and getting help." You can't. You just can't. Because, you know, if you don't understand it, how will they?
Which brings me to cutting... The unexplained, unmanageable agony inside leads to the desire to control some kind of pain. I would cut half inch superficial wounds into my upper left arm. Just enough to feel aching elsewhere. Pain that I know has a cause, that I know how to stop, that I know will heal and go away. I didn't want to injure or scar myself. I didn't want to cause death or do any permanent damage. It's all about manifesting the pain somewhere else so what's inside of me doesn't hurt so much. Or at least that's how it was for me. (Please notice when talking about cutting I use past tense. It's been four years in May since I last cut myself.)
And now on to suicide... I have never tried to commit suicide, nor have I planned it or thought I could/would actually do it. However, almost every single depressive episode I have had in my life has included thoughts of wanting to die. It's not a control thing with this one. It's feeling so hopeless that it is not going to end that the only way you can see out of it is to end it all. The good along with the bad. This should indicate to you how much misery comes from depression. How excruciating it is. How extremely desperate you are to make it stop that you would give up everything worthwhile in your life just to have that peace of not having to deal with it again.
To me, it makes perfect sense that people commit suicide. I actually understand why. What disturbs me is that no one was there to help them remember that the pain is going to end just like it did with the last wave and they just need to ride it out in their arms. What baffles me is that someone wasn't there to get help for them and encourage healing through medications, therapy, just plain old love. This is where education comes in. Please do your part.
I just read back over this stuff and feel like I still am not doing it justice. I told you, it's hard to explain something that you don't even understand yourself.
The best description I have seen thus far comes from Hyperbole and a Half. I'm pretty sure Allie Bosch is in my head because every single thing she writes relates to me so incredibly that I think I wrote her blogs some times. My sister introduced me to Allie's writings with this blog. I cried all the way through it. I finally FINALLY felt like someone was able to explain to the masses who are on the outside of depression how it feels to be in it. Read it. I beg of you. Take the time to do it. You won't fully understand, I've told you that you never will, but this will bring you one step closer. She has another blog that is exceptional too: Adventures in Depression. Read that one too. You need to. Especially if you personally know me, just read them both so you understand me.
Before I go, the one thing I want to get across to all of my readers is what you can do for someone like this, like me. Be there. Yes, that's it. Just be there. I have a couple friends who randomly send me love notes to check up on me. "I had a fleeting thought of you today. I wanted to make sure you are doing well. Love you, miss you, hugs!" Or I have one friend who sends me surprises to remind me how much I'm loved. Surprises that I can actually wear on my body so I see them every single time I start getting down. A custom made medical bracelet that she made for me has a secret message on the inside that says, "One day it will all be worth it." I have a few friends who remind me of how much they love me simply by posting a word on my Facebook wall, "Squirrel!" I have an amazing sister and mom who have sometimes just held me while I cried and cried because they know that nothing else is really needed but their presence. And more often than not, they cry with me. Which makes me feel like they understand the pain too, or at least understand how tortured I am in that moment. I have friends who send me scriptures when they just have a sense that something is bothering me (Philippians 4:8).
Become such an expert on your friend that you know just by looking at them or hearing their voice that something is different and they need you right then and there. And even if you aren't able to become that "in tune" with them, just be there frequently. Check in, give love, hold them. Educate yourself. Please, just do it. You have no idea whose life you are about to save because you read this and subsequently learned more.
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