More often than not, I’ve heard survivors say they were blindsided by their loved one’s choice to take their own life. I said the same after my dad’s death. Sure, he seemed to be a little down but we never would have imagined something so extreme was on his mind. He was functioning at full capacity and never mentioned he was feeling suicidal. He had even “warned” us decades earlier as kids that there was nothing so bad in life that we would ever have to resort to it. How could we have missed the signs of suicide?
I think today’s news and social media landscape paints a picture of depression and mental illness that leads society to believe the signs would be as clear as the lights on Broadway. Think about commercials and magazine ads for anti-depressants. They typically show a weeping woman in a windowsill, peering out at the falling rain and grey skies. Upon taking medication, they show her outside gardening in the sunshine and enjoying time with family. This leads us to believe that depression is an obvious, black and white thing. For fear of stigma, embarrassment or other reasons, I believe that many of our loved ones shielded their true struggles, or at least significantly downplayed them. We continued to see them outside gardening in the sunshine and assumed everything was ok.
I was struck recently by two articles on this topic. The first summarized a new public awareness campaign called “Get The Picture.” Launched by an organization called Time to Change, they are encouraging companies to put an end to the use of these weeping, grey photos. Instead, they challenged people who are battling depression, anxiety and other mental illnesses to show “real” pictures of themselves. Click through here to see some of them. Similar to many of our loves ones, they showed no outward or public signs that they were feeling anything other than joy.
Social media makes it particularly easy to filter the way we portray our lives to others. I was nearly brought to tears reading an ESPN feature article on the untimely death of freshman Penn runner, Madison Holleran. (Read it here.) Madison was beautiful both inside and out and appeared to have the world at her fingertips – she illustrated this on her Instagram account. This is one of many reasons why her family, friends and teammates were so stunned when she leapt to her death last year. This article truly captivated me because Madison seems like the girl next door and, after reading about her life in such detail, I felt like I could empathize with her hidden struggles and hoped the story would somehow have an ending different than the one I knew was coming.
I applaud Time to Change for trying to shift the way we depict and look for signs of depression. We probably have no idea how many people we encounter every day who are battling something inside. The smiling barista at Starbucks, a child’s teammate, the neighbor gardening in the sunshine… This actually frightens me. Might I miss signs of suicide from someone else? We have to start looking below the surface and also making it more acceptable for people to voice what they are going through without being judged. I know that none of us would have ever judged our loved ones.
Being Mental Health Month, I’m happy to see how many more conversations and awareness-building campaigns are happening each year. We’re still not quite “there” to make this completely mainstream, but every bit helps.
“This actually frightens me. Might I miss signs of suicide from someone else?” Yes, it should frighten you because we know now how dark a hidden heart can be; but no, this is not your burden. We all need to be more kind, more caring – to take the time to actually see the person serving our coffee or across the table. Yes. But we can only ask this of ourselves: to open our eyes and see, to be open to communication, to open our hearts and not judge. But it is not your burden to feel responsible for suicidal thoughts or actions of another. Remember that none of us can do this thing called life alone; but none of us can save another on our own, either. Maybe if enough of us does our best, together we can be there in large enough numbers.
My daughter was one of those who hid her feelings VERY well. Hours prior to her death she sent a text message to her “therapist” saying that she was having that feeling of killing herself and the response back was to “just breathe and go home and love Bella” (her dog). Real encouraging words coming from a therapist aren’t they?
Wow….iI wish my daughter would’ve sent me the same message. I would have alerted the whole country to stop her..therapists are trained to become souless bc if they take on every persons pain they see themselves would not be able to live on….iI have a close friend who is a conselour for teenagers and she is such a strict and non-feely person I’m suprised they hire her for the job.
My son died by suicide in 2008 and this article meant more to me than anything I’ve read so far. The guilt of being a mother and not knowing your own child was in enough pain to take his own life can be unbearable. Thank you for these words….
I feel your pain. My son died by suicide, June 3rd, 2013. He his his pain from everyone. His family, his friends, even his fiance and fellow firefighters. Outwardly, everything was fine. Inside. ..who knew. God bless our children and those they left behind.
I can feel your pain too my son Justin died from suicide sept. 17 2012 outwardly his friends and Family did not know he kept things inside of him
i know exactly what people are saying when you try to hide it ive been that way scince i was 15 and know 31 still struggle but when you say somthing they dont want to hear it becouse they say your doing so good only if they knew im sceaming inside everyday to fight my own demands. they were willing to help as a kid but at 18 i was on my own my brother to pass at 20 in 2003
I’m sorry to hear you are still struggling. Are you seeking help or you’re doing this alone?
BTW how come some of these comments are left unanswered since August? Do you guys see what roxy wrote?
Hi Adele,
We are glad you found the blog and have resonated with our posts and the comments from other readers – that was our hope and intention when we started the site. We do our best to review and respond to comments, particularly when someone asks us a question. Sometimes, readers will email us separately and we respond that way “offline” instead.
Becky
The depictions in those commercials are geared towards the person suffering from depression. The grey, dark moody skies are showing the feelings that one has with untreated depression and the bright, cheery garden is how one may feel after treatment. It is not a tool by which the public is supposed to draw conclusions about identifying depression in others. If the commercials go to showing everyday people in normal situations, it may lead people with depression confused about their own feelings. Depression is a dark, ugly place and it should continue to be depicted that way.
You are right, Kelly. It’s tough because so many survivors say they feel blindsided by not seeing any signs – yet for the person who is experiencing depression, they do view the world as a very dark place.
I too struggle with the guilt of not seeing the signs, because in all reality, my daughter did display ALL of them! In the beginning ( after her death ) I made myself feel better by saying things like ” I didn’t see the signs, because she didn’t want me to see them ” or ” she hid her pain very well ” when in hind sight she really DID display all the signs!! They were right in front of me the whole time, and I was to blind to see them! I ask myself ” why, how ” all the time, and the only answer I can come up with is, because I love her with every ounce of me, and because of that love, I didn’t want to see the signs for what they were! I didn’t want to believe she couldn’t get through the pain she felt, with the help of all the people in her life that love, and supported her, I also was unaware of what those signs were. It was a very costly mistake on my part, and one I struggle daily to live with!
I choose to never say that on June 11, 2013 my beautiful daughter Brittany Anne committed, or completed suicide. Instead I say on June 11, 2013, my daughter ended her pain.
Dear Anne,
I am so infinitely sorry for your loss. Being a loving mother of a daughter is the pride of my life. I could never live without her.
On June 11, 2016 my soulmate, best friend and love of my life, Trent, ended his pain and ultimately his life. Now I am devastated, shocked, immobilized and saddened beyond belief that I will never gaze into his eyes again, hear him sing to me in that Peter Cetera-esque voice or hold my hand across the dinner table at our favorite Mexican place, Pelayo’s in Vacaville, California.
Trent was everything I ever dreamed of in a partner. Caring, sensitive, big-hearted and full of empathy. Now I am left to pick up the pieces and wonder why he came into my life only to leave again, less than a year after meeting.
Anne, I am here if you need a friend to talk to. The pain lessens a little as time goes on, but the grief is always there. The remembering of their smile, their voice as they walk in the door, or their little nuances and quirks. God, how we love them!! Trent hid his depression from me until two days before he shot himself. He mentioned he was suicidal and i talked him out of it. He said “thank you for saving my life, I am so grateful for you.”
So when he died two days later, I was angry and blindsided.
Forever shattered here…
Dear Anne,
As soon as I started to read your words I started to cry. From the very first sentence I felt your pain and know that you feel mine. My 18 year old daughter took her life on Sept. 3 2015, and every second of every day I would do ANYTHING to have her with me again. I live with the guilt of not doing ENOUGH. I have another daughter and a son who I fear for everyday that they will do the same thing. I put on a smile for the world where in reality a part of my heart has truly died. Sometimes I think that my other kids deserve to have a better mother, one who could have changed things BEFORE…
My kids are all that keep me going and I am so scared sometimes that I will lose them.. that they will see what a horrible fraud I am.
The last words I said to Shannon was I love you, I should have said them every moment of every day. I miss her
He was full of joy and laughter. He planned a romantic get a way and proposed to me. I was ecstatic. That evening was my “Cinderella story”.
Something wasn’t quite right the next morning. He stated we were leaving early and he cancelled our afternoon of horseback riding and a picnic lunch. After packing my things I found him rolled up in a ball on the couch. I was upset about the decision to cut our weekend short that I ignored his odd behavior.
We drove home. Not our typical laughing and great conversation drives. We arrived at his house and he said he wanted to be alone and watch the game.
I didn’t want to nag so I drove home. My three young children were thrilled to see the ring. So many “I can’t waits” then off to bed they went.
He called a few hours later to tuck me in and everything appeared normal.
The next morning I received a call to check on him. I was greeted by the police outside of his home. He had sent his ex an odd email.
Two police officers and I checked the house; typical looking.
I opened the door leading to the garage and was overcome with a fog and an unfamiliar smell. I was confused; then it made sense. I fell to the ground and only remember screaming.
Then, I was placed in an ambulance. I was in an unfamiliar state of mind. I continued to look at my left hand and gaze at the most beautiful ring then look up only to see flashing red lights and people gawking.
I was introduced to man (coroner) three hours passed but to me there was no time span. I recall walking aimlessly but arrived to see my soulmate sleeping on a stretcher. I cried and hugged him. I rested my head on his chest. I asked that he be woken up….. But I knew. I don’t remember much more of the day that changed my life forever. It will be 10 years on November 5th. I have helped suicidal people to choose life and mentored survivors like myself. I still question why I didn’t do this or that. How did I miss the signs? The what ifs still flood my thoughts. I am a different person but unique in my own special way. I cherish the little things. I know things could be completely different tomorrow. I appreciate the time with him and all we shared even that horrible day for it taught me valuable lessons.