Suicide

NOTE: I wrote this after Robin Williams died earlier this year, however today I am packing to leave to spend a week with a friend to be of comfort and provide loving care to her and her family following the death of her oldest son following his suicide. It just seemed right to share this again.

There I said it. Suicide, Suicide, SUICIDE!

It is a manner of death that stems from an illness and yet when it happens, the word is unbearably painful for so many and reminds me of when my grandmothers and elderly great aunts would whisper or mouth ‘cancer’ in such a way that it was almost as if saying it was bringing it on yourself. Now, I have yet to go out for a run without one of my cancer support items on and see someone else without at least one of the same…there is a ribbon for breast cancer, testicular cancer, leukemia……you get the idea. And two generations ago it was not a word used openly in nice company, one generation ago ovarian cancer was ‘cancer down there’ or ‘female cancer’. Now, we face it head on and vocalize it loudly.  I had a male Executive Vice President launch into pretty graphic details of treatment his wife had undertaken for uterine cancer during a work event.  We have screenings, drug protocols, support tools, rallies, fundraisers…I could go on and on and on. But not for mental illness and not for the end result which can be suicide if those afflicted do not receive treatment, feel supported or have avenues to channel their thoughts, feelings and needs. I think of my brave, brave friends who have battled cancer. Some have won in this life, some had to exit this earth and find healing in the next…but not a one of them had to feel shame or isolation or wonder what they were doing wrong to have done this to themselves. Why on earth does a mental illness not get that same social pass and support?

I’ve lived enough in large cities and small towns, moderate wanna be cities and bucolic suburbs and know that mental illness is not reserved for any one group, just as cancer is not only for women, only for the insured, only for the smoker.  I am guilty, for sure, of using talk of suicide as an exclamation to a statement. “If my teens don’t stop driving me crazy soon, I’m going to kill myself!” and that is certainly not true, but I end up getting all manner of supportive comments in response to my stress statement. But if I’d said I felt like I was going to get cancer or diabetes it would not seem humorous and would likely be met with a less than stellar response. Rightly so.  But why, when we can minimize the mental health issues of others ‘crazy’ and killing of oneself, suicide, that it is okay. A punchline even?

Recently the younger brother of a friend my husband had in high school killed himself. The obituary said ‘an accident at home’ and yet my husband flat out refused, and actually got quite angry, when I said he had killed himself. He could not look past the euphemistic language and accept the reality. He actually looked me in the eye and said that he was not from ‘that kind of family’ and it really hit me full force to hear him say that and I could tell any further discussion was pointless.  Less than a week later, it stared my husband…and much of the world…in the face on every news channel, in the checkout line, in a diner at breakfast, on the car radio. Robin Williams killed himself. Death by suicide. And I watched the reporters squirm a bit, some even went so far as to say ‘attempted suicide’ because they could not bring themselves to say it. But when the talking heads report a cancer death of a known person, they said it without a bit of hesitation, without a moment of ‘oh wow, I can’t believe I am saying this’ because it is a recognized illness for which you can seek treatment without stigma, without fear of repercussions, without worrying that it will forever be branded upon you in life, work, school….you name it.

I think that our suicide rate would be lower if people felt they could say to someone close to them, a medical professional, a spiritual leader, a family member……I am worried I might kill myself and I need help. I know when I had a cancer scare a few years ago and needed a Level II mammogram the time leading up to that appointment were filled with positive thoughts, affirmations, prayers, offers of help with schlepping kids and most of all, support without exception. I have great friends, a strong and supportive network, but I don’t know how much I would trust the majority to handle my telling them I was considering killing myself because of all the hush-hush that is still present with suicide. That the ability to receive that, process that and be at best neutral if not negative towards my statement would be very lacking for so many. Not that they are bad people. I truthfully don’t know how I’d react, in the moment, to someone sharing the same with me. Would I be able to do anything helpful in that moment and in the moments that come after? And what would that help look like? Our mental health system is ABYSMAL. The limits for mental health care are often ridiculously low for insurance policies. You can eat a horrendous diet and have cardiac issues and get a million dollars, literally, a million dollars of services but suffer from mental illness and you’d best hope that the 25 or 50 thousand cap you have on your policy is enough to see you through. Heaven forbid you need inpatient care.

I read a prepared statement from the family of Robin Williams not to dwell on how he died, but rather how he lived. And yes, let us not forget to celebrate his comedic genius, but let us not dishonor him by acting as though he simply died in his sleep, either. This was a man of vast resources, in both time and finances. A man with what can only be assumed was access to exceptional levels of medical care, the ability to go out of his insurance network, and a name that would open doors to facilities and doctors with long waiting lists and pricey treatment.  But still, he chose suicide as his only option. That he was in so much pain, for so long and unable to battle those demons should be a wake-up call for everyone, everywhere. We need to have mental illness be as easily discussed as cancer. We need to have walks, runs, bike-a-thons and lemonade stands to raise funds for research and care to help with this massive need in our country and in others. This is a worldwide epidemic, but we keep saying euphemistic things and avoiding the word. SUICIDE. It is real. It is here. It is not going away by simply saying someone died after ‘an accident in the home’.

Celebrate his life, yes, but please honor Robin Williams and everyone who has committed suicide, attempted suicide, considered suicide by talking about it in real terms and seeking real solutions and having real conversation with the people you care about and ending the euphemisms and ignoring issues in hope they will simply go away. They will not. I wear my pink triple negative breast cancer shirt in honor of a friend who lost the battle with incredible pride, I would love to see a vast ocean of suicide prevention tees, be inundated with invitations to fundraisers and half marathons for mental health and see kids selling lemonade and homemade cookies to give money to those suffering from mental illness.