There was a guy once, who lived in the Canadian wilderness, who made something of an enemy of a particularly grumpy bear. It used to follow him, usually from a distance, when he was out in the woods. Once or twice it even sat outside his house (one of those log cabin jobs). Allegedly it followed him for something like five years, until one day the guy was heading back to his truck after going fishing. He was pretty exhausted and especially upset; he'd lost sleep and the bear had been (to his mind) more aggressive and adventurous. And on this day, in his somewhat dazed state, he'd left his keys on the jetty. The bear was behind him before he'd even finished searching his pockets. His truck was right in front of him and he knew it'd provide enough of a measure of protection to save his life, but half a ton of fur and teeth and muscle was sat between him and the keys. He knew he could try and run, he reckoned he might be able to get higher than his adversary, he might even make the jetty... but he was tired, and he was upset, and he didn't think his chances were good, and so as the massive predator closed on him, all he did... was put his hands over his face, think about his life, and... ...it ended about how you'd expect. Too vague? How about this: what would you think of a woman who suffered from schizophrenia for 18 years, and then one day while the orderly was in the room but had turned away to clear away a meal, she takes the pen left momentarily in arm's reach and drives it into her right eye, through the back of the socket, and into her brain. What would you say to her family? What would you say to the man's family? What would you say to any person who lived with something haunting them and stalking them for decades who ended up being overcome because they had a momentary lapse or a tiny crack in the shell they'd built for themselves for twenty years? Would you call that person a coward? Seriously: is my hypothetical mental patient a coward because the voice in her head told her it'd be great if she killed herself and one day, after all the fighting, she listened and paid with her life? Feeling suicidal isn't some random urge you get one day and decide "Ah to hell with my friends and family, I'm gonna end it all". Suicidal thoughts are like a virus. They just lodge themselves in your head and infest your daydreaming with some utterly terrible ideas and thoughts. You can end up fantasising and even planning things you'd never ever be able to tell anyone because... well what would people say? "Hey! I'm doing great thanks; this morning I wondered about hanging myself. Shall we get a coffee?" On a good day maybe it's a passing concern, and on a bad day you can't concentrate enough to drive because your brain won't let go of the notion that you'd just benefit everyone by not being there. And if you're lucky, you just might go for ten... twenty... thirty years without anyone realising what's happening in your head. And then one day, no matter how good your life is, no matter who's there for you, no matter what people say you just lose. Depression doesn't care if you're famous. Neither do thoughts of suicide. If you've got this far and none of this resonates and you can't relate at all I so, so envy you. And I'm really happy for you. But I also hope, just a tiny tiny bit, that you might not call Chester Bennington (of Linkin Park), or Kurt Cobain, or Robin Williams, or Marilyn Monroe, or anyone else who has taken their own life, a "coward".
3 Comments
Naomi Sherred
5/8/2017 12:31:37 pm
So so true - very very hard condition to live (and sadly too often die through too 😔). Well written xx
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Maria K
5/8/2017 08:03:59 pm
So, so agreed. Can't begin to count the times I almost lost. But here we are, fighting.
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Author28 year old computer scientist/physicist with major depressive disorder, a need to write, and a deep-rooted mistrust of beetroot. Categories
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