Another post about suicide? Yes. This is another post about suicide. Why? Because that’s all I seem to hear about lately. And everyone is talking about suicide. And then there’s the awkward pauses and the stares and the silence and then the “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring that up in front of you.” Like I can’t handle the talk. Like I might burst into tears in front of them. Like I might snap and sink into a PTSD flashback.
So, what if I did? What if I did start crying and make people uncomfortable? What if I froze and hyperventilated and dropped to my knees and screamed? What if images from the night Brian died flash in front of me? My mother-in-law wailing. My dad choking back tears. The words of the note he left me deafening me as I silently read them. What if I shared that with you when you talk about suicide? What would happen? You would probably be uncomfortable. Maybe shift your eyes or your feet. But you know what? We need to be uncomfortable. We need to have to stand there for a second not knowing what to do. You know why? Because THAT’S how we learn. That’s how we figure out what to say the next time this happens. We might gain some insight as to how to save the one person that kills themselves every 12 seconds in the United States.
We don’t like emotion. We don’t like having emotion or dealing with other people’s’ emotion. So we suffer in silence. We stuff feelings and hide the hurt and suck it up. We see someone upset and we turn a blind eye, waiting for someone else to take care of it. Emotions are awkward and not many people know what to say or what to do. So we do nothing. We say nothing. And life moves on and the person who is suffering wanders through life, feeling like they are without a purpose. Feeling invisible. Feeling unloved.
I posted a video to my Facebook page the other day. The video is an ad for online counseling. In the video a woman stands in front of the bathroom mirror, gasping for breath, obviously struggling to breathe and looking anxious and panicked. The top of a zipper is visible in her chest. After struggling a while she reaches up and pulls the zipper down. Words spill out of her chest and she begins to breathe easier. I shared the video along with a message that stated that this video was the best interpretation of PTSD and anxiety that I had ever seen. That is exactly how I feel many days! Unable to breathe. Feeling like I might burst with panic and anxiety. Flashbacks and feelings and emotions. Two people commented. One person agreed with me, commenting that she related to the video also. One person, my sissy, commented love and support and empathy that I would ever feel that way. Four people “liked” the post, I’m assuming indicating some level of either support or understanding. Many people probably didn’t see the post. Some maybe did and felt uncomfortable thoughts and feelings. We don’t do well with emotion. Six total interactions from a friends list of over three hundred and fifty.
I’m fine. Most days I am fine. Some days I’m not. Some days are worse than others. Some days I’m completely falling apart. Think you could know the difference? I don’t think you would. My closest friends and family, perhaps. There are subtle differences between ok me and not ok me. The people that know me best would tell you my face changes. I’m a bit shorter with my interactions. My voice is different. I get quieter. I smile and say I’m fine. But in the typical passing glances and small conversations we might have in the hallways or on the sidewalk, would you even really know?
Would anyone know that today is a day that I am not ok? Did anyone notice me today? See me hanging out a little longer than usual? Passing through the office a few more times? Sitting playing with kids past their speech time? Did anyone notice me missing from kickboxing class? See me in different clothes this evening than I wore to work because I feel like I needed to protect myself in my fat clothes tonight and changed as soon as I got home?
Do we take the time to notice people? Did anyone notice Kate Spade feeling different? Anthony Bourdain? Did anyone see red flags for the 11-year-old belonging to a friend of a friend that chose to kill himself this week? Are we checking in on people? Are we taking a second to make eye contact? Look up from our devices and look at the people around us?
We talk openly of people who have been diagnosed with cancer. We love and support our friends through MS or fibromyalgia or diabetes. We openly post support and fundraisers for people with leukemia or people with fractures or people with head injuries. And we should! Absolutely! People need love and support. People need fundraisers and financial assistance to get through tough times.
So, why do we not extend the same courtesy to the mentally ill? To people suffering from depression or anxiety. To people like me who have been diagnosed with PTSD? Why are people with those illnesses (and they are illnesses) shamed and made to feel like they are crazy or lazy or fat? Why are mental illnesses taboo? I may not have the physical implications of any of those other health maladies, but I suffer just the same. Yes, I suffer. You can’t see my scars. I don’t have a cast or a brace. I don’t have ports or get poked incessantly with needles. But I still suffer.
My joints physically ache when I am in the throes of my PTSD and anxiety. I get headaches. I can’t breathe. It takes all of my focus to stay at work and not want to run far away from everything. I can’t focus or concentrate because my mind fills with thoughts of despair and destruction. My stomach hurts. I begin to worry about my girls and my parents and my sister and her family. I start to think that I’m worthless and mean nothing. I get paranoid and wonder how long it’s going to be before I lose my friends.
And then? I find that single ounce of courage to admit to myself that I am ok. That there is light after the dark. A calm once the storm passes. That there is a message in the mess. And then I pray. And I turn it all over to the One who loves me more than anyone. I fall wrecklessly into His arms and allow His peace and grace and love to wash over me again and again. And the feelings calm and I can move on until the next episode hits.
Kate Spade? Anthony Bourdain? Chester Bennington? Robin Williams? They never found their single ounce of what they needed to see another day. They couldn’t pull themselves up out of the pit they were in enough to unzip even the tiniest part of their zipper. They didn’t have anyone that noticed. Or, if they did, they didn’t have anyone that reached out to them.
Have I contemplated suicide? It’s crossed my mind. When the demons that I dance with get strong enough there are lots of thoughts about ending it. Being at peace. Finally getting rest. Being in a better place. Leaving the burden that I face my family with. Do I buy into those thoughts really? Not always. But I find the ounce that I need to push through and step forward into God’s marvelous presence. I look into the mirror and remind myself that I am a daughter of the Most High King! That there is a grand plan for me and that Father God never intended for me to choose when I exit His world.
Romans 8:28 says, “And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.” All things work together for good. It doesn’t always feel that way, but I promise they do! I wouldn’t never have picked this life. I didn’t want to be assaulted. I didn’t want my husband to kill himself. I didn’t want seizures or PTSD or anxiety. Many days I wish it was all different. I wish I was different. But, that’s not how this works. Things happen. Evil happens. And the wind is knocked out of us. But, we need to fight to find that ounce of strength to pull us through. And if we can’t? We rely on the people around us to bolster us up and walk us through. We also need to realize that this world is becoming more and more egocentric. We can’t rely on anyone to save us. We can’t wait for someone to notice that something is wrong because chances are it won’t happen! We need to turn our hearts and our souls to the One who can save and guard and guide us through each and everyday. Turn our faith and our eyes to the One who understanding pain and suffering. The One who can walk us through. The One who sees us and noticed the subtle differences on the days that are not ok.
In the meantime, notice people! Push through the awkward and help someone! The interactions you have with people, even strangers, could save a life! You saying hello and asking about someone could be the moment they needed to change their minds.
And pray for the people of this world. We are all fighting battles. We all need love and support and compassion. We all need to be checked on. Make it a point to check on someone every day! You never know what their plan and their perception is. Be present. Be kind. Be compassionate.
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