I'm deeply saddened by the death of a local 13 year old boy who is thought to have taken his own life. I'm also angry that another person has succumbed to the pain of depression and believed only death would soothe it.
I know that kind of pain all too well. I, too, have believed that death was the only respite from the deep grief I felt. I've blogged about my own suicide attempt here. It's not something I talk about often, because few people understand. Suicide is still a taboo subject. It's victims are painted too frequently as weak and selfish. It's impossible to find the words to express the kind of pain that makes one consider suicide, so sometimes the only expression becomes the act itself and the promise of sweet relief.
I don't question why a person chooses suicide. I understand why they have come to that decision. What frustrates me, however, is the lack of resources available to those of us battling depression. What frustrates me, is the lack of willingness for others to understand that depression is more than just the blues. What frustrates me is the belief that those of us with depression need to "buck up" or just keep our chin up. Depression is an illness that requires treatment the way any other disease does, and as much as those of us with depression would like to pull ourselves up by the bootstraps and get better, it's often out of our hands entirely.
I've struggled with depression for twenty two years. I didn't seek treatment until I'd had the disease 14 years. I've been in treatment since January 2004, so a solid 8 years, and tonight as I write this I am no closer to being "cured", well, or symptom free than I was in 2004. The only difference between the depressed person I was then and the depressed person I am now is that I no longer hold suicide as an option. That was a very difficult decision to make, and one I made mostly because I won't hurt the people around me and I won't let others with depression see one more person "give in". It doesn't mean that I don't think sometimes that death would be preferable to the pain of depression. It doesn't mean I don't at times passively wish for that permanent reprieve. It simply means I will persist in my attempt to treat my depression and bipolar disorder so that I can live the fullest life possible.
This is a monumental task. I get angry when, as a result of a suicide, people wonder why the victim didn't reach out or ask for help. They make it sound so easy, so innocuous. But sometimes, even after we've asked for help, we end up feeling alone. Why, after 8 years of treatment am I back at square one in seeking treatment? The biggest reason is the lack of resources I have had since moving back to WY. When I first sought treatment in 2004 at my college in Nebraska, and later at the doctor's office, I was fortunate to find people who were monumental in helping me get through the last two years of college. My therapist was amazing and charged me a mere $10 per session instead of her standard $90 based on my student status and inability to pay. I saw a psychiatric nurse practitioner who was also very experienced. Due to a program they had at her clinic I saw her as often as necessary for free. The drug companies accepted me for their patient assistance programs and I had the medications I needed despite my lack of health insurance.
Fast forward two years to my move to Wyoming. Since moving here there has been a mass exodus of physicians. Our doctors, for whatever reasons, have left Wyoming for opportunities in other states. Because of such moves, I have seen three different psychiatrists in Cheyenne, and finally went to Ft. Collins where I'm on my second. Five doctors in eight years makes treatment hard.
Then there's the issue of therapy. It's widely known that the best chance a person has with depression is a combination of medication and therapy. Medication changes our brain chemistry while therapy changes our behaviors and perceptions. Together they can work magnificently. Without both, though, a patient is not fully armed in the battle against a mood disorder. I had a wonderful therapist here who was the fourth therapist I'd seen before finding someone I liked and trusted. I'll write another time about the difficulties in finding quality therapy, but the point I'm getting to is that she, too, left Cheyenne in 2011. Thus began a new search for a therapist. I'm on my third one this year, and I'm very grateful to have his help and wisdom, but therapy is not easy!
The few doctors and therapists that remain, as well as the one mental health treatment facility that serves patients on a sliding scare, are incredibly overwhelmed. Waiting lists are months if not more than a year, long. I waited on such a list for 9 months during a period of time after I was married but had no insurance. Drugs continue to be ridiculously high and more insurance companies are declining to cover certain medications. My own health insurance company has stated it will allow me only half the dosage of my current therapeutic level beginning January 1st 2012. They seem to suggest that the medication is merely for my own pleasure and enjoyment rather than lifesaving. But what the heck if 600mg is what I require - 300mg is what is "allowed".
So here I am, 22 years into living with depression, capable of making rational decisions when it comes to my mental health treatment and providers, and I am no closer to finding relief than I was at 8 years old. How can anyone living with this disease not find that a bit daunting? And if I feel this alone in my fight at 30, knowing what I need to do and who I need to see, how alone must this little boy of 13 felt?
Most people would not deem suicide courageous - and I don't in any way want to say I condone it or glorify it - however, I get it. And when I think about this little boy's situation and I picture him, alone in the dark and taking his last breaths, and knowing what goes through one's mind as one waits to die, I can't help but think him brave. For this little boy chose the uncertainty of death and dying as the preferred path than any longer bearing the pain of his life. And that path was no easier to take than to face the demons themselves.
I'm angry that there are not more resources for those of us with mood disorders. I'm angry that there isn't a magic solution that treats body and mind. I'm angry that there are not enough doctors to go around, not enough therapists and not enough funding for a large number of people to seek what help there is. I'm angry that depression interferes with my life on a daily, and sometimes hourly basis. I'm angry that a precious child had so few resources that he ended a promising life.
Most of us with mood disorders have friends and family who love us, but that doesn't "fix" the illness. I know that personally, I minimize the symptoms so as not to worry others. I smile when I really wish I could cry. And even though my friends have said, "Call me anytime! Even at 2 am", that the reality is that it's impossible for me to make that call. I have a hard enough time asking for help from the people I pay for it, let alone someone else. When anxiety keeps me awake all night and racing thoughts give me little rest, the reality is that I feel very alone. Even if I make that call or go downstairs and wake Kyle, no one can really help alleviate the absolute loneliness I feel. My symptoms don't show the way it might if I had another illness. People forget to check in on me because they can't "see" the toll it's taking on me, and since I don't want to be perceived as feeling sorry for myself, I don't let it show how much I need their support.
Depression is not a rational or reasonable illness, thus those of us with the illness often act irrational and unreasonable. So while it might seem "silly" or unfathomable that this dear child - or anyone - who has killed himself wouldn't just ask a friend or family for help, to me it's understandable. Before we keep encouraging people to "reach out" we need to make sure there are substantial resources to reach out to. Otherwise, it's impossible to feel heard and acknowledged and leads to isolation, withdrawal and deeper depression.
I don't pretend to know what the answer to all this is. I just know that from my own experience, especially in this past year, that the resources we need just aren't available. And until there's attention to this, suicide will continue to be a viable option for some people.
<3
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